Just keep breathing

Chapter 12

As Elphaba soars up into the sky for the climax of 'Defying Gravity', I have to bite my lip to stop myself from joining in with the song, I can sense Harry watching me, and I want to look over at him, but this is my favourite part of the show.

The interval is coming up straight after, so I decide he'll have to wait for a moment.

I've not seen this cast before, and I am mesmerized by the actress who is playing Elphaba, her voice is like nothing I've ever heard before, and she hits all the high notes with ease.

As she belts out the final note, a tear comes to my eye, and I quickly brush it away, hoping Harry hasn't noticed. I applaud enthusiastically as the curtain drops signalling the end of the first act.

Harry claps politely next to me, his eyes still on me, has he been watching me the whole time? I wonder.

"You're really supposed to watch the people ON the stage," I say to him, finally turning my head in his direction.

"I was, it's just.. you were so engrossed. Watching you watching them... I felt like I could see it through your eyes, feel what it was making you feel. You really love it, don't you?"

Our heads have moved closer together during this exchange, trying to keep our voices low to not draw unwanted attention to ourselves. At such close proximity, I can see all the different shades of green in his eyes and the tiny flecks of brown in them, the slight creases that appear underneath them as he smiles over again me. I return his smile shyly, self-consciously.

"Yes, I really do. I reply. It's my favourite place to be, and these seats are amazing, Harry I really can't thank you enough for this. It's... well, it's magical."

I reach over and place my hand on top of his where it rests on his thigh, gently squeezing it in gratitude.

Less than a second has passed when I see the flash go off somewhere behind us. I whip my hand away as quickly as possible, but I already know its too late.

Harry wheels around trying to see where the flash came from, and my eyes follow his, I spot one of the girls we saw in the foyer earlier, rushing off back to her seat a few rows behind ours, her phone held out in front of her as she stretches to show her friends the picture she has just taken.

"Shit." Harry mumbles. Quickly pulling his own phone from his pocket. I try not to pry as he types out a hurried text.

A minute passes, then another. Harry is still staring at his phone as if willing, whoever it was he text reply. I decide staying quiet is probably best for now, and being honest, I have no idea what I would say anyway.

Harry's phone lights up with a response just as the curtain rises for act two. As we can't really speak about it now, Harry shows me the text message he's received from someone called Jeff.

Jeff:
It's on Twitter. I'll arrange an alternative exit for you and do damage control. Try and keep your head down until then.

As I am reading the message, a screenshot pops up below it of a tweet;

Look who's on a date at #WickedLondon tonight! @Harry_Styles you can do better baby!

Below the tweet is the photo taken of us just moments ago. It's slightly blurry, but Harry's face is perfectly visible. As is my hand on his thigh, our heads are leaning towards one and other, and it looks... intimate.

Thankfully the angle of the photo means all that can be seen of me is my wayward hand and my long brown hair against the back of my chair.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I give Harry my most apologetic look, and he quickly types out a message for me to read