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Saturday

I woke up feeling quite good. The whole week had gone by very well. Harry and I were great, are great, and Clary has stayed out of my way. I've barely seen her at all this whole week. Harry and I had a little movie date out at the movies for the first time and it was a little weird. We saw the Conjuring and bought popcorn, sodas, candy, the basics and yet it wasn't as good as watching it on one of our couches with a fuzzy blanket and all the lights off. The movie did get me a tad jumpy at times and I almost ended up in his lap at one point. I thought that the movie was very good but like I said, it wasn't the same. We did that Thursday because Friday he and his mom were going to his grandmas for her birthday, she was turning 81. I had met her once a couple of years ago when she came over for his birthday. She was a very kind, very wealthy woman. But she wasn't the type of person to flaunt her money around. She did, however, give me $50 for having a birthday the same week as her.

When I woke up today I hoped in the shower then dried my hair and did it in light curls. I put on some jeans and a hoodie and headed to Harry's. Mostly because I wanted to see him but also because I wanted to invite him to the birthday dinner my dad's having for me tonight. I completely forgot to tell him about it on Thursday.

I get out of my car—learning from the incident of the red car, that it's probably safer if I use my car to take me to his house from now on instead of walking—and stroll up to the front door but before I can knock his mom opens the door and puts a finger to her lips, telling me to be quite.

My eyes go wide and I walk in trying to figure out why she wants me to keep quite. That's when she points up the stairs and we listen to hear Harry playing his guitar. The sound is faint but you could hear it. "Is he...?" My voice trails off as we listen and Jessica nods.

"I don't think he knows we're here." She says. He obviously doesn't realize it because he would never get caught playing his guitar in front of me or his mom.

I begin sneaking up the stairs in an attempt to hear him better and I begin to hear his voice, singing. Actually singing. I laid down on the floor so it'd be harder for him to see me and I peeked through his cracked door and listened a little. His voice was quite and he stopped a few times, writing some things down and then starting again before he did a little run though.

There will never come a moment
When I'd ever give you up
You've been falling slowly lately
You can fall into–

"Alex!" He calls out standing up and turning around. I realized he could see me from the mirror and I groaned at my carelessness.

"What?!" I yell, acting like I didn't just peep on him singing. I jump up from the floor and pull my hoodie down. "Hey, what's up man?" I try to ease the tension but I know he's giving me the death stare.

I make eye contact and I have a worried look on my face. "Alex." He says sternly, placing his guitar back in the corner of his room.

"What?" I whine and he closes his eyes.

"You know what."

"I know... but you sounded so good. And I didn't want to I interrupt." I defend knowing my defense is weak and pointless. He doesn't reply, he just lays on his bed and I walk over and sit down at the end. "Did you write that?"

He has a straight face and looks over at me before nodding. I nod and give a weak smile before scooting over to lay with him. I place my head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest, his black t-shirt hiding away his toned torso. He wraps his arm around me even though I know he's upset and sighs. "It sounded good... but I'm sorry. It wasn't my place to listen."

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