Dream On [HS.AU]

Chapter Forty One

Halle Henry

"Harry?" I spoke out, confused by his sudden appearance at my door, with his Grammy a bottle of champagne and a flower.

"Halle." He smiled, pulling the flower out of his mouth.

"What are you doing here?" I shook my head, so unbelievably confused.

"Can I come in?" Harry asked, so I stepped to the side to let him squeeze past me.

Harry placed his flower down on my kitchen counter, right next to his Grammy, and then he popped his champagne into the fridge. He took his blazer off to hang it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, meaning now he was just standing in my living room post Grammys in his red high waisted trousers, and topless.

He isn't at an afterparty. He isn't celebrating with all the people he should be. He's here, in my living room and staring at me with a smile on his face. He must have come straight here from the Grammys, and that is just so bizarre to me.

Harry sat down on my couch and I grabbed a glass of water, for both him and I because I'm actually still contemplating whether I'm dreaming or not. I put two glasses down on the coffee table, and sat at the other end of the couch, conscious of how we ended things before he left to go to the Grammys.

"Congratulations. You deserve it and I'm so-"

"Thanks Halle." He cut me off, sliding along the couch next to me and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I erm, came straight here from the awards, Sam doesn't know. I couldn't stop thinking about you, did you watch the show?"

I nod, "Yeah. You look great by the way, and I'm proud of you."

Harry smiled then, leaning forward to take a sip of water and then pull my scarf from off of his neck to tuck it into his pocket as if it belonged to him. To be honest, he can keep it, it looks better on him anyway. He pulls off red better than I do too, and that's supposed to be my colour.

Harry sat himself up, turning so he was looking directly at me and then taking both of my hands into his. It made it hard to break eye contact, but when he lifted my hands to kiss the backs of my palms, everything started to hurt, because knowing we can't be together in the way I'd like is painful. Contracts always fucking ruin everything.

"I didn't sleep with her." He tells me, looking me right in the eye. "Sam staged it for the photo."

I let out a sigh of relief and my shoulders dropped. It isn't that he isn't allowed to sleep with anyone else, because we're not even officially together and we never will be, it's just that I wish things were different. Hearing it was staged makes me relieved, as it gives me that sense of reassurance that maybe those things Harry said to me, he meant.

"These past few days I've been in the studio from the morning until after midnight, I didn't want to bother you but now I wish I did." He tells me, squeezing my hand. "How have you been? Have you been alright?"

"I've been okay." I smile. "You don't have to explain yourself Harry, not to me. Earlier I was just shocked. I had a bad day yesterday and I saw that this morning and panicked. I'm sorry, I overreacted and-"

"Ssh." He cuts me off, pressing a finger over my lips and then starting to chuckle. "Shut up."

I laughed back at him, confused by whatever the fuck he was on about right now, but my heart is really over powering any thought in my mind right now. He squeezes my hands and then wraps one arm around me, leaning back on the couch and pulling my legs over the top of his own.

"Why on earth are you here?" I ask him, looking over at that Grammy on my kitchen counter. "You just won a fucking Grammy you idiot! Go fucking celebrate!"