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"Only Angel" - Harry Styles

Harry's POV

"I NEED SINGING ANGELS!" I shout dramatically when I enter the studio.

"What now?" Adam laughs.

"Angels, man. Get with the program." Mitch says to Adam then turns to me. "Sarah McLachlan is your woman."

"What." I say with an unimpressed tone. I'm not even sure how he can hear us since he's wearing headphones playing along to a track he's listening to.

"We call her up! She's bound to know where we can find some angels, bruh!"  He seems far too serious.

"We call her up! She's bound to know where we can find some angels, bruh!"  He seems far too serious

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"Mitch, are you high?" I snicker and put my sunglasses on him.

"Only a little." He shuts his eyes tightly, afraid I'll poke him.

I turn to the others who are eagerly awaiting for my first piece of inspiration in over a week. Two of my producers, Jeff Bhasker and Alex Salibain are also here today. I needed to bring something to the table before they fucking bail on me.

It's just my anxiety talking.

At least that's what I tell myself in order to deal with the possible impending failure that is my solo album.

"In all seriousness, I want the intro to be slow and deliberate with dreamy chords and voices. This song is about someone special and I want the beginning to sound like how it sounded in my head when I first met her. You all following me?" I tapped my chin in deep thought and looked around the room.

"We know who the song is about, my dude." Mitch smirks.

I had a goofy smile plastered on my face as I got lost in my thoughts. Alex clapped his hands together. Anytime he did that I knew it meant that he had some genius idea.

"I know what you mean, Styles. A slow, dreamy intro is exactly what this track needs. All we need are the keyboards and some voice manipulation. I gotchu." Alex saluted me.

"Let's get to work, people!" I do a sassy pose with my hands on my hips.

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Nikki's POV

After a few work calls and a phone/radio interview, I slumped back into the poolside lounger I was laying out on. The sun was not the reason I was hot and bothered. Waking up to Harry in just a towel this morning had me practically drooling. It's also the way he keeps staring at me when he thinks I don't notice. I've never been this turned on from my peripheral vision before.

I swear, I wasn't this bad when I was a teenager. At least, I don't I was.

Harry had been at the studio for several hours now. He texted me that he would be done around 6:00pm and asked me to marinate the steaks that he was grilling for us tonight. I, being the queen of multitasking, did a radio interview on the phone, went over some arrangements with my manager for next week and followed Harry's scribbled instructions for his marinade that he had left on the fridge on a pink Post-It note.

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