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Harry's hair is long again, tickling his exposed collar bones, and there's a thin mustache growing above his top lip. My mind blanks as our eyes meet, and I can't breathe. He looks radiant. I open my mouth and suck in air, attempting to say something, anything to break the silence. But he beats me to it.

"Hi."

One word. One breathy exhale of a greeting and I melt into a puddle. I haven't heard his satin-like voice in nearly two years and that's all it takes to make my eyes water. His voice is deeper, aging like fine wine along with the rest of him. He's more perfect than he's ever been.

I glance down and take note of my ratty clothes, my unkempt hair and dirty finger nails. It's not fair that he's standing there looking like a full course meal, and I'm the scraps thrown out at the end of the night or fed to a stray dog.

"How are you?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

A humorless laugh passes through my lips, "Aces. You?"

"You can be honest with me; you know that." His eyes are piercing straight through the front of my skull and into my brain. Over 600 days have passed, the space laid out between us, and he still knows me better than anyone.

A gust of wind nips at my cheeks and I wrap my arms around my chest, "Do you want to come in?"

"Would love that, yeah. I can put on a pot of tea if you'd like." He steps across the threshold of my front door and sheds his coat and boots.

"That's my line, I believe," I say over my shoulder as I move toward the kitchen.

He stands silently behind me as I fill the kettle with water and set it on the stove top to boil. While it's heating up, I open the fridge and retrieve the half-drunk bottle of wine, gesturing to him in question. He nods, and I fill two glasses: his moderately, mine generously.

"Thank you." His fingers brush mine as he takes the drink from my hands, and I nearly drop the glass. My heart is in my throat and my stomach is doing flips.

Breathe, I remind myself.

"So how are you?" I find myself asking before taking a gulp of the sweet red wine.

A smile tugs at the corners of Harry's mouth, "I've been good. Toured my new album this last year and a half, and I've quite enjoyed that."

"Oh yes, the solo career. Are you loving it?"

He shrugs, "It is rather freeing to be completely in charge of my music and to take control of my path, but I miss the lads. At first, I was worried I'd be isolated and lonely, but my band is great. It's the best of both worlds, really."

I'm bubbling over with pride as I squeeze his wrist, "That is so wonderful to hear."

His eyes drop to where our skin is touching and I can feel his pulse quicken. Soon he clears his throat, "So have you heard my album?"

I nod.

"And what did you think? Be honest. I'm kind of a narcissist, praise fuels me."

I burst out laughing as I'm taking a drink of wine and nearly choke. After several coughs, I wipe a stray tear from my cheek, "It is truly amazing! I mean it."

Harry smiles that dazzling, dimpled smile that still makes my heart flutter, "Honestly?"

"I swear on my life."

"What's your favorite track?"

I ponder that for a second, "I love Sweet Creature and Kiwi, although the whole thing is pure magic."