twenty-five

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HARRY'S POV

My fingers drummed nervously along my steering wheel as I tapped my foot impatiently. I glance at the clock, checking the time for the tenth time in the past five minutes. She was only seven minutes late. She hadn't responded to my earlier text, but it's not like she would stand me up. I would deserve that, though, after the stunt I pulled earlier this week. As I anxiously twist my thick H ring, I rack my brain for how to act when she gets into my car. Should I apologize? Should I act like nothing happened?

As two more minutes pass, I thought about honking but didn't want to bring any attention to myself. Should I call her? What if she is standing me up?

I pick up my phone and click on her contact before staring at it. Just as I'm about to call her, I hear her front door swing open abruptly. I turn my head to see a flustered Janie quickly exiting

"I'm here! I'm sorry, I'm here!" She hurries down the sidewalk before practically catapulting herself into my car. "I'm so sorry," she sighs, out of breath, as she clicks her seatbelt into place.

"Don't worry about it," I assure her. Making me wait is the least I deserve.

"There was some issue with my siblings and their school," she explains, giving me the most condensed version of whatever issue she was dealing with. I want to ask her what happened, ask more about her family. She mentioned she had siblings, but not how many or how old. I want her to open up, but I also know that's the last thing I can request from her right now. So, instead, I settle with asking: "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," she sighs and rests her head against her seat. "Yeah, it's all good now." I nod, pretending to be satisfied with her short comment, and begin to drive.

The energy in the car was off. It wasn't as tense as it was in the studio but it definitely was not comfortable. I didn't know what to say, or if she even wanted me to speak. I had hurt her; she made that clear when she called me last night.

I hadn't meant to make her upset or think she did anything wrong. In fact, I was trying to do the opposite. I thought putting space between us would be good. I thought stepping back was the right thing to do. I thought if I acted cold towards her she would feel relieved; relieved that I was stepping out of the way so she could focus on Charlie. I also thought that if I pulled back from her I could figure out why I was feeling the way I was. I thought if I didn't look at her I could pretend that my heart didn't skip a beat when she walked in a room. I didn't mean to be an asshole, I really didn't. I was just acting out because I can't figure out what is going on in my own brain.

I couldn't get her out of my head. It was hard to forget the way her hair smelled when it was wet. The way she asked me to stay. The way her breathing sounded as she fell asleep in my arms. Her smile, the way her hair moves when she talks, how she twists that gold ring until her finger damn near falls off. The way she scrunches her entire face when she's concentrating on getting a chord exactly right or how she hums when she takes a bite of food she really enjoys. How her eyes light up when Mitch or Tom likes an idea she pitches and the way her nose crinkles when I tease her.

I know I messed up. It wasn't fair to her for me to take my confused frustration out on her. She didn't do anything wrong, she never does. She's utterly, and sometimes frustratingly, perfect.

She had sounded so sad on the phone and that was when I truly regretted my actions. As I fell asleep last night, tossing and turning, all I could think was "please, don't let this have ruined our relationship."

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