Sweet | h.s.

twenty six

Harry

"Kiss in the kitchen, like it's a dance floor..." I strum the guitar lightly, singing softly to the lyrics of the song I've been working on. Ever since that night after the whole paparazzi fiasco at Beverly's apartment, I've been adding a few things here and there that seem to fit perfectly, and related very strongly to our relationship. It was coming together nicely, and this lyric was perfect in describing our small dance in her kitchen that night.

"Harry, mate. Do you have any other songs you are developing right now?" Jeff asks urgently, interrupting my humming. He sounds slightly annoyed.

"Erm - kinda. Nothing I can start recording, but I have a melody." I tell him, thinking about the piano piece I played for her. 

"Fine, please start brainstorming." He sighs, scribbling something on a piece of paper and leaving me to return to my guitar. 

I was in the studio today, trying to get some recording done of this new song, Sunflower. It was an upbeat, bright song that matched the name of the title, and it reminded me of her. Everything did nowadays. 

Beverly and I have continued to spend time together, often going back and forth between each other's places for several weeks, but last night we didn't. She had an early morning preparing for the Gucci event in Milan, and I also had to get to the studio earlier. 

The Gucci event was approaching quickly. It seemed like just yesterday that she asked me about it, but now it was in a week. I admit, I was a bit disappointed to see her go, especially when I was also supposed to be there. Selfishly, I was going to miss her and it annoyed me that I wouldn't be able to celebrate this success with her. But at the same time, I knew she'd do well and I was excited to hear about it later. 

I was missing the event because I was going to be discussing a new movie deal, one that would be a great advance towards my acting career. I have been nervous about it for weeks, and Beverly has noticed on a few occasions, often asking me if I'm okay after I've spaced out for a few seconds. 

Tonight, she had a work dinner celebrating the hard work they've all accomplished in a month, and she asked me to accompany her. Of course, I was happy to do so. As if on cue, my phone buzzed with a text message from her. 

See you in approximately one hour. Can't wait! B.

I smile to myself, tucking the guitar under my arm as I bring my hand from the strings to my phone. 

Same here. Going home to get ready soon, then I'll pick you up. You're amazing. 

I decide to wrap up, knowing no progress was going to be made anyways, and pack up the guitar back into its case. I grab my belongings, and head out, bumping into Jeff as I make my way out of the building. 

"I'm headed home." I tell him, and he nods. 

"Alright, you ready for your audition?" He asks, and I sigh, running my hand back through my hair. 

"Yeah. Nervous, though." I force a chuckle. 

"You'll be great, Styles. Anyways, get to work on those songs, for god's sake." Jeff lectures, and I agree, and head to my car. I place the guitar case into the trunk, and close it, backing out of the lot and driving out of the parking garage while sliding a pair of my sunglasses on. The drive home is smooth with the sound of Fleetwood Mac filling my ears as I hum along. I pull into the garage, and turn off the ignition, heading up to my bedroom. 

I go straight into the bathroom, and start the shower, allowing the water to warm before climbing in. The water hits my skin nicely, the temperature perfect for my liking. I let the water stream down my face as I tilt my head backwards, liking the feeling of it gliding through my hair. My eyes flutter shut in reflex, and my hands move to wipe the water away from my face, as my thoughts begin to consume me.