Salvation {h.s}

thirteen

The next day

"So, how are you feeling today?" I breathe out, my glance switching over from Harry to my documents. It's been only one day since my dad's hospitalization, and I'm already back in game, trying to catch up on the mountains of paperwork that has accumulated in my absence. And I still haven't seen my boss.

Harry is seated across from me, a cup of tea cradled in his right hand. When I came in, he informed me that he just finished working out, so he still had his hair in a claw clip to keep it out of his face and his work-out clothes on. A pair of pastel pink and yellow sweatpants together with a white shirt. He seemed pretty worn out, so I told him that he could go change or shower. He insisted on staying and didn't want me to wait. The thing is that he looks like doesn't sweat. Ever. I have no clue how celebrities do it but sometimes I think of them as magicians.

I might be too influenced by media and my best friend, but pulling off perfect make-up, hair and outfit all at the same time seems almost impossible and unreal to me.

"Like a total crap. I'm starting to feel like this will never stop." He admits, his eyes dropping to his lap. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, a gesture that seems to suggest he's not entirely sure what to make of his own words.

I set down the papers, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. "Honestly, Harry, it sounds like you really need some time off. I mean a break break. Before your Europe leg of tour starts." I'm aware that I'm revealing much more of my true feelings than I intended. But I do feel an odd surge of protectiveness towards him.

"It's pretty hard to justify. Not sure my management would allow it. I need to finish the album first." He explains while nervously toying with his rings.

"I understand that you have commitments and responsibilities, but your health has to come first. You can't pour from an empty cup, and right now, it seems like you're running on fumes."

"And talking about health. I'd like to speak to your doctor and get your medical records so we can talk about the prescriptions."

"They already gave me pills. I sure don't need more." He coughs and grips the tea cup tighter in his hand. It's clear that he doesn't like this topic at all but I feel like it's still neccesary.

"I'm sure you don't. I have a bad feeling about your prescriptions, though. I'd like to look into it so there are no harmful combinations going on that could hurt you."

Harry's eyebrows furrow as he considers my words. His gaze flickers between the papers on my desk and me. Then he sits back, his fingers slowly rubbing his eyes.

"I... appreciate your concern," he finally says. "But I've been through this before. I'm just so tired of all of that fucking crap. It fucked me up."

"I know. That's why I want to help you so you can take your medication right." I look into his eyes to show him that I really mean it, and there's nothing behind it. His eyes stay on mine for a second, then he sighs, his hand waving in the air.

"Guess it wouldn't hurt to get a second opinion," he mumbles reluctantly. "But promise me you won't let them make this into a big deal."

"Of course. I promise. This stays between us." I assure him, grateful that he's willing to consider my advice. "I'll handle everything discreetly. Your health and well-being are my priority."

One of the corners of his mouth lift which makes his left dimple pop out. As I line up my papers, I notice my phone start to vibrate. I quickly turn it off even though there's a possibility it's the hospital calling again. I'm having a session.

I cough. "So, I noticed you've been doing some yoga." I look up at him again, pointing to the blue yoga mat by the pool. "You can pick that up. It's fine." He chuckles as my phone vibrates again. I attempt to not freak out when I look at the contact.