It's You [H.S.]

8.3 | Only you

7th April 2017

"Shit, I am so not ready for this", Harry throws himself back on the bed, crowding Eloise and whining pitifully into her neck. "I actually feel a bit sick".

"Oh, you big drama queen!", she laughs, hooking her arms over his shoulders, fingers digging soothingly into the tense muscles of his neck. "You're just going to hang out with Grimmy! He'll look after you... And you know he already loves the single".

"I'm more worried about what his millions of listeners will think".

Gripping the nape of his neck gently, she pulls back for a better look at him, "Everyone else will love it too, trust me".

She reaches up to peck his lips, before whispering against them, "Just for the record, your face is too fucking pretty for the radio, baby".

He sniggers and puckers his lips back to hers.

His phone ringing and vibrating in the front pocket of his checked trousers has them both startling apart in laughter. It's close proximity to the apex of her thighs has hers tapering into a groan.

"Fuck it, okay I need to go...", he ignores the call but pulls himself on to his hands and knees above her, still pecking kisses as he begrudgingly starts to pull away.

"Thanks for the pep talk, baby. Wish you could come", he pouts.

"Wish I could too, but I can't miss these meetings. I'm sorry".

"No worries. I'll give you a call when I'm done, okay? You'll be at the fitting from lunchtime, right?". She nods.

He casts a final lingering look over her. Bare shoulders and chest peeking out from the white duvet cover; fingers of her bent arm toying teasingly with the blonde hair pooled in a halo across her pillow.

His angel. His temptress.

She slaps his bum as he swings a leg to climb off the bed and throws him a shit eating grin.

Would Grimmy kill him if he just called in for the interview instead? Abso-fucking-lutely.

"Be brilliant, baby...", he hears her call out as he heads down the hallway to the stairs, "Give him some grief for me!".

He can hear the smile in her voice and barks a laugh, loving that she keeps him on his toes.

>

With only the one song to play - long as it is - there had been a lot of silly chat between Harry and Nick Grimshaw already, and he mentioned he'd prepared some bits to help pad the content for the show.

If it wasn't for the microphones and all the studio paraphernalia, with their easy rapport and close friendship, it would be worryingly easy to forget they're broadcasting live to millions.

They had already covered the questions for him kindly submitted by Chris Martin, Ronnie Wood, Rita, Ed and then his mum.

"She was putting on a bit of a posh accent there", Harry sasses, before softening his voice to imitate her. "'Umm, excuse me, umm, what do you think has inspired your eclectic taste in music?'... Err, you don't talk like that!".

They fall about laughing, parodying her real accent.

"I don't even remember what the question was. I was too distracted", Harry chuckles, totally having lost his train of thought.

Nick takes no prisoners and pounces on the opportunity to rib him a bit. He barks a laugh, "Ha! I'm not surprised... All posh, she sounded a bit like your girlfr-".

"-Aaaarrggh!", Harry cuts him off with a shout, mouth agape and hands waving in rebuttal before he remembers the cameras on them, filming this for the BBC Radio 1 YouTube channel.