The Real Reed

Chapter 40

I'm thinking you and I
Better just go with the flow
Last thing that we should do is go slow

                         -The Neighbourhood

Harry's POV.

"Thank you."

It was a long shot, but by the time I get to her door, it's not locked and I couldn't have been more relieved.

"For what?"

"For not locking your door." I give her a shy grin and she looks away immediately, making my heart drop a little.

I sit at the edge of her bed, a horrible pit beginning to brew in my stomach as I try to keep my emotions at bay.

I didn't think I'd get this far. I barely expected the semi decent conversation we had in the kitchen; so this was just me pushing my luck.

I haven't seen her since she practically sprinted out of the backyard the day I found her there humming Big Yellow Taxi to herself, and that was days ago.

It feels like much longer.

Leaving was the best thing I could have done. I seem to have been doing that a lot recently; Lara never said anything about my impromptu departures as she booked my flights, but I'm pretty sure she was fully over my shit.

In my defence, it was a good decision on my part this time around.

I needed time to think.

I mean actually think for once, process everything that was going on and how I was feeling; I couldn't do that if I was around her. So when a friend of mine, Jeff Azoff, asked if I'd want to meet up, I hopped on the first plane back to LA.

But it doesn't mean the trip didn't give me other things to think about......

Reed looks around me subtly, probably searching for what I told her I needed to get.

"My confidence." I answer her silent question solemnly, trying to gauge her reaction. She spares me a quick glance, but her expression remains unreadable, before she looks away.

She looks pale, her skin is a little flushed.

I watch as she shifts a bit on her feet like she's uncomfortable, and the window light peeking into the room from her side shines right on her left iris.

As it shines on her one eye, the dark forest color turns to a light glistening emerald. The simple crack of sunlight runs vertically down her face- only on her eye, eyebrow and a small portion of her plump lips, before cascading down the side of her arm.

The silence is deafening, it's making me even more on edge. But I can't say I was expecting anything different.

I let my eyes wonder across her room, randomly eyeing parts of the space like it could have changed since the last time I was here.

"Play something for me?" I ask sheepishly as my eyes land on her guitar perched up on the wall a few feet away from her.

I start pondering over how stupid my request was as the seconds of silence tick by, and I'm about to take it back when she surprisingly reaches for the guitar before crouching to her soft carpet, curling her legs underneath herself and balancing the guitar on her thighs.

Her initial strums have me hypnotically dropping from the bed to mimick her position on the floor, keeping the cautious distance between us.
My breath hitches when I realize what she's playing; Edge of seventeen.

Of course my girl listens to Stevie Nicks. She's definitely a fellow old soul, with impeccable taste if I might add.

I know I'm fully in a trance, watching her manicured fingers work skillfully against the strings, careful not to strike the gentle length of her nails against the strings as the sound of her soft strums feel the room. She keeps her eyes focussed on her fingering; I know she doesn't need to, but I also know she doesn't fancy looking at me right now, so I try to pretend it doesn't sting.