Matilda | Harry Styles

TWENTY-ONE

I spent most of the following day on my own. It felt like the first time in a while that I got to sit alone, quietly; comfortably in my own head. I sat out on the balcony of my hotel room, my laptop resting on my knees as I clicked through my recent show photos, my eyes narrowed in concentration as I toyed with a couple of them, adjusting some settings on the shots. I felt so peaceful, even with the sound of the busy street below; just to sit here, editing photos that I'd loved taking, at my own pace, of somebody who I was sure I could never grow tired of photographing. 

Just then, my phone rang from the table beside me, jolting me from the fixation I'd had on a particular photo of Harry prancing about on stage. I reached over, instantly warmed by the caller ID as I picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, you. What are you doing?" Just the sound of his voice was enough to bring a smile onto my lips.

"Working, technically," I returned, mindlessly tapping my fingertips against the surface of my laptop. "What about you?"

He sounded like he was walking around. "I haven't been awake for very long," he confessed, and I raised my eyebrows, glancing at the corner of my computer screen to read the time - it was just after two in the afternoon. "I hate oversleeping," he added, then.

"You probably needed it," I told him. It was after midnight when we'd all arrived back at the hotel, and he'd barely even been able to keep his eyes open. Somehow, his room had ended up being on the opposite end of the building to the rest of us, sparing his security, but he'd seemed too tired to even dispute it. He'd simply dragged his bag into the elevator at the soonest opportunity, gently raising his hand to blow me a discreet kiss as the doors had drawn shut, leaving the rest of us in the lobby. My room had turned out to be right beside Elin's, and Pauli was just a little further down the hall, next door to Mitch and Sarah. I wasn't sure where Stella, or Ally, or the rest of the crew had ended up, for I'd admittedly been exhausted myself, falling asleep practically the second my head had hit the pillow. But I'd woken up at a decent hour, feeling better, and feeling rested. I felt good.

"Are you in your room?" I heard the ding of the elevator in the background as he asked his question. A knock suddenly sounded on my hotel room door, and I looked over my shoulder, back toward the inside of my room. I set down my computer, going to stand up.

"I am, where are you?"

"Waiting for you to answer your door."

I paused, feeling a grin overtake my face, just like that. I set my phone down on the couch I'd been sitting on, trying not to practically skip to my hotel room door to pull it open, and sure enough, there he was, pulling his phone away from his ear to set it in his pocket. 

My eyes immediately landed on his face - of course they did - how could they not, when he looked the way he did? I could've stood there for ages, just taking in the bright grin upon his features; the way he towered above me from where we stood; but my eyes then fell to his hands, and what was grasped between his fingers.

"Stop it," I almost whined, a breathy laugh leaving his lips as he stepped into my room, my hands raising to capture his face in them. I pressed my lips to his, repeatedly, slowly moving backward to enable him to kick the door shut, his face remaining in my grip. "Those are for me?"

"Of course they are," he grinned, as if it were obvious, one of his hands shifting to rest upon my hip, as the other brought what he was holding between us - a bouquet of tulips, each appearing to be a different shade of pink. I almost pouted up at him, having not expected him to come bearing flowers, in the slightest.