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HARRY'S POV

"So, how are you since I saw you last? It's been ages," she jokes as we walked towards the studio. It wasn't too far from the club and it was a beautiful night. Plus, this allowed for more time for her to get comfortable with me. 

When I first greeted her in the club, I could tell she was nervous from her body language. Then, just minutes ago, with her arms crossed, she couldn't have seemed more closed off from me. She told me the night before how she could be a nervous person, so I wanted to give her as much time to feel comfortable with me as possible. Her making jokes was a good start. 

"Oh, the usual. Just basically stalked a girl from a bar via her friend and a friendly bartender. Then kidnapped her from her friends. Nothing too major," I shrug jokingly. 

"You know, you're lucky you're some famous rockstar. Otherwise, this whole interaction tonight would have gone very differently," she teases me and I let out a laugh. 

"Yeah, I guess I am pretty lucky." I look down at her, her arms still crossed, and hold back a smile. I admired her for a moment, just a fleeting moment. 

"What?" She asks, and I realize I'm staring. 

"Nothing," I shake my head and snap my focus back to the sidewalk in front of us. There was no denying that I was attracted to her. She was beautiful and smart, a combination I hadn't been able to find often. On top of that, talent practically oozed from her pores. It's hard to find a girl like Janie – a girl who was completely unaware of how amazing she was. I barely knew her, our drunken conversation revolving around our song. But I wanted to know her. 

She was the total package. She also was totally unavailable, as her friend reminded me last night. If she didn't have a boyfriend, last night would have gone completely different. 

"Did your boyfriend apologize?" I ask and I see her breath hitch. 

"Kind of," she starts before making a face. "Actually, no. He didn't."

"He didn't?" 

"I uh...I sorta did the apologizing," she says quietly and I sigh. "I have a bad habit of doing that. He was mean again, but I don't know, I hate confrontation, so I always apologize, even when I'm right. I need to work on it," she explains, keeping her eyes on the sidewalk. 

"I know we just met and all but he sounds like a dick," I state bluntly and it's her turn to laugh loudly. 

"Wow, you just cut straight to the chase, huh?" A glint of amusement is in her eyes. 

"It's been known," I grin. "But seriously. Does he know he made you cry?" She's quiet for a minute, and I worry that I overstepped. "We don't have to talk about it," I add, scolding myself for possibly making her uncomfortable.

"No, it's okay. And yeah, he probably does. I always cry when I'm yelled at, it's my fatal flaw. Never bring me as backup to a verbal altercation, I'll just burst into tears in the middle of it." I chuckle, glad that she's opening up more. I practically told her my entire life story the night before and I barely know anything about her. I mentally log everything she says. 

"Well, then he's really a dick if he keeps yelling at you," I say and she nods as she bites her lip. "Especially if he knows that it makes you cry. And doesn't apologize." 

"He definitely can be a dick. But I don't know, it's hard," she says. 

"What is?" 

"I mean, we've been dating for six years. Six years," she says before shaking her head in disbelief. "Jesus Christ, that's long. Our relationship could go to kindergarten. And read!" She exclaims, making me laugh before she continues. "And it's been six years of my best years. High school, college. How do you just throw all of that away?" She asks rhetorically and looks up at me. "I mean, it would feel like I'm throwing away a piece of myself," she adds and we're quiet for a moment. 

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