Matilda | Harry Styles

TWENTY

The air felt different around us when we left California - it was lighter, and so much freer of tension. I wouldn't have imagined that within a couple of days, everything would have changed; every tiny little thing I'd been avoiding - or at least, most of it - had been confronted. We knew how we felt; we'd laid it out, and we were letting it play out. To just enjoy things, and let things be, rather than insisting on controlling them; it felt exciting.

Just about as soon as we'd landed in Washington D.C, we had to head straight to the arena for soundcheck. Ally must've been on her seventh coffee, and Stella seemed to be running on pure adrenaline as she tapped away furiously on her phone about god knows what. And Harry was... Harry. Never complaining, never ungrateful - he seemed tired, yes, but as we sat in the very back row of the car, behind Stella and Ally who were the row before us, behind the driver, you'd never have known if he was bothered. His baggy hoodie hung off him perfectly, the sleeves pulled almost fully over his hands, but drawn back just enough for his fingertips to peek through - a coffee cup of his own in his left hand, and my hand grasped in his right.

It was only the early afternoon when we arrived at the arena, but I was already thinking about how soon I'd be able to sink into a night of sleep in the next hotel bed. I was exhausted; even the adrenaline provided by Harry's company wasn't entirely working to combat the maximum of three hours of sleep I'd had last night. I had to admit, as blissful as it had been to spend some time in the company of Harry, and Harry alone, I was looking forward to being reunited with the other and getting back to work. I was looking forward to being able to experience tour without this looming weight upon my shoulders of what Harry thought, or wanted - now that I had the answer to both of those things, I could simply be present.

Elin, Sarah, and Pauli had each greeted me with the warmest of hugs when we'd gotten inside of the arena. Mitch had shot me a barely detectable smile, but it was becoming pretty clear that was just who he was; he wasn't overly affectionate or hugely expressive, nor did he need to be - a tiny glance from him felt just like a wide grin from someone else. His eyes seemed pretty fixed on Harry from the moment we'd walked in, as if trying to detect the atmosphere between us. Now I knew that Mitch knew more about Harry and I than I'd originally anticipated, it became a lot clearer that he was intent on seeing how his friend was doing, which was actually rather endearing.

"God," Elin had groaned, drawing back from squeezing me tightly, "I don't know how we ever did this without you. It's been so boring." I laughed, feeling my heart warm at the fact my absence had even really been noticed or acknowledged, when I certainly hadn't expected it to be.

"What about me?" Harry raised his arms in mock exasperation, though I knew he didn't really care. The attention shifted onto him, before everybody moved back onto the stage to get ready for rehearsal - as they did so, he sent me a smile; that smile, that soft, beautiful smile that I was sure I could sit and trace the lines of for hours, without ever growing tired of it. I was sure nobody else would've picked up on it, but I'd never have been able to ignore the warmth it filled me with. His looks in my direction, now; his glances, his smiles, his gestures, didn't feel so achingly complicated - I didn't have to wish I hadn't picked up on them, or that he hadn't done them, even to begin with. Though it was all so new, and I feared it couldn't always feel this easy, everything felt so different now; so much better.

As Harry finally got onto the stage, my phone started to ring. It was a FaceTime call, from Grace, and I blew out a breath. I felt bad - I'd been pretty awful in replying to her texts over the past couple of days, and I hadn't had a chance to call her at all. She knew nothing about what had gone down with Harry since last week - and it wasn't at all that I didn't want to tell her, but rather, I'd needed to wrap my head around it myself, before I could tell her anything.