The Long Road Home || h.s. au

Chapter Twelve

The next day was a long recording day. No one seemed to be able to agree on anything, and it wasn't because everyone had opposing views; it was because nothing sounded right, and only three weeks in, it seemed like everyone was experiencing some sort of creative fatigue. Everyone seemed to be dragging their feet, and Harry complained once or twice about not being able to write songs. They were pretty much stumped on the songs they were already mid-production on, so they'd suggested Harry take some time to try to complete some songs he had in the works. That wasn't working out so well either, evidently.

Everyone straggled around the studio until nearly ten that night, everyone finally just giving up and calling it a night, citing that a good night's rest would help them replenish their creative flow. While everyone that was set up in nearby hotels got cabs to take them back into the city, Sia wandered to the kitchen, hoping to find a snack that would help her settle down for the night. But after a few minutes of searching and pondering, Sia realised that she was too frustrated with how the session had gone to let her mind settle. She shut the refrigerator door once more with a heavy sigh and glanced over her shoulder.

The moon was full that night, shining in all its splendour on the rippling waves of the water and sparkled on the fine sands of the beach. It looked so inviting that Sia was already opening the back sliding door before she had even made the conscious decision to go outside and down to the beach.

All the doors and windows in the house were set with security sensors, and it beeped when any of them were opened. When the three little chirps sounded out, Harry looked over the back of the couch from where he'd been playing a game on his phone. He saw Sia standing in the open doorway, moonlight washing over her face, illuminating her profile. It'd been a long time since he'd taken just a few moments to really admire how beautiful she was. Sure, he knew she was beautiful. They'd been in a relationship for years and friends for even longer, so he was always aware of her good looks. However, in that moment with the natural lighting grazing the high points of her face, she looked like a goddess. It felt like a punch in the chest when he felt those familiar butterflies take flight in his stomach.

"Goin' for a walk?" Harry asked her, making her quickly turn to look at him. She hadn't realised he was sitting there.

"Yeah. Need to let myself calm down from all this stress today. Beach looked good."

"Mind if I join yeh? Need a few minutes myself, I reckon," Harry told her, already standing. He'd changed since they'd been in the studio. He'd been wearing loose-fit jeans and an Eagles t-shirt, but now he was in a very old, very hole-y, Rolling Stones tee that Sia was pretty sure he'd owned since he was seventeen, and a pair of athletic shorts that were a bit too short by American standards, but no one looked twice at in the UK. He looked comfortable and snuggly, and Sia had a sudden urge to plop herself on the couch and pull him beside her and just cuddle. While the thoughts were no longer unpleasant, they were still a bit jarring, and she blinked a few times to dispel the feeling.

"Sure. Could use the company, I guess. Plus Mitch would probably pitch a fit if he knew I went out alone this late," Sia said with an affectionate roll of her eyes.

Harry motioned for Sia to exit the house before him, closing the slider behind himself once he stepped out.

"You and Mitch have gotten close, I take it," Harry commented as they made their way across the bridge that connected the property to the beach. Sia kicked off her sandals as soon as her feet touched the sand.

"Yeah. He's like my American Ellen," Sia joked. "Let's me vent to him and just offers advice. No judgement, no harsh words. I mean, Ellen can be a bitch, but it's out of love. Mitch is like Ellen, but without the harsh reality side. Give him a few months, though. He might start puttin' me in my place." Sia chuckled, just imagining Mitch actually saying something unkind. It wasn't easy to picture. "Is always lookin' after me, checkin' in whenever I've wandered off. He's been a good friend."