Break the Unbreakable

Chapter Thirty Eight

Harry and I were practicing the song we were going to sing together on Friday afternoon. It was the day before my interview for the New York Times.

And I was battling with the choice to cancel it or to go. It was so close, and yet, I knew I didn't deserve it. I really didn't.

Harry and I were growing so close, ever since he told me about his problem with change.

We were at my house, and I was playing the piano as he was singing his solo. I couldn't stop staring at him - he had the most beautiful voice in the world. At least, that's what I thought.

Niall had an amazing voice as well, and I still couldn't tell which one I preferred.

I began to harmonize with Harry in the chorus of Good To You, and it sounded so good. Our voices matched one another, and they blended together until you could no longer tell they were ever apart.

After we finished, I grinned.

"It sounds beautiful," I said.

"It does, doesn't it?" He smiled at me and sat down at the piano with me. I scooted over so we could both fit on the bench.

"You have a really good voice. Ever thought of doing it professionally?"

"Sometimes," he shrugged. "You know, Louis and Zayn can sing. So can Liam."

"Niall can too," I added in, quietly.

He nodded. "Yeah, I know."

I smile shyly. He didn't want to bring up Niall because he knew it was a sore spot. I went to grab his hand, and he doesn't shy away. He holds it gratefully.

"Almost makes you want to start an all-boyband, huh?" I asked laughing. He chuckled.

"Sometimes," he replied. "That would be funny, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know, you're all pretty hot," I commented. He shook his head, laughing. "I feel like you'd make it out there."

"Oh do you? Or are you just pulling my leg?" he wondered, smiling. I shook my head.

"You are all attractive!" I convinced him.

"Ah, but if we do make it out 'there'," he said, putting air quotes around the word 'there.' "Then, I'd have to leave you."

Okay, I know I was blushing. I felt my face go warm, and I refrained from turning away even though all I wanted to do was see just how red I was.

"Oh, Harry," I said, more softly. "I'm just one girl. Imagine just how many girls would want you and be shouting for you."

His stare was becoming more and more intense. I almost felt self-conscious, but I didn't want to look anywhere else but his blue-green eyes. They were captivating, understanding, gentle. A side of Harry that I craved.

"Come on, Blake," he told me. "You know you're more than just 'a girl' to me."

I didn't know how to respond to this. Of course I would like to think that I'm more than just some girl that hung around him, but with his previous reputation and what he's known for, how could I not second guess the situation? How could I not have the fact that Harry might get bored and forget about me in a week's time?

"You didn't know, did you?" he asked, after we sat in silence.

"I wanted to think that you thought I was more than just some girl who was just there -" I started.

"Because you are."

"But, Harry, all this talk about you not wanting to change, and how you'll always be a player, getting with girls and not giving a second thought about it...I didn't think I was any different."

He sat there, trying to form words to express his thoughts and I waited. Because I wanted to hear what was on his mind, and for the first time, I knew he was going to tell me.

"I thought, for the longest time, that was who I was. That was who I was always going to be."

He was talking so quietly that I had to lean forward to hear him.

"But," he said, "lately...I've been battling with these feelings I've never had for anyone. No one's ever struck me this way, where I don't know what their next move is going to be, or if they'll talk to me the next time I see them. Where I couldn't stop thinking about this one person."

I waited for him to continue.

"And suddenly," he told me, "I started to think about this person as more than just a one-time thing. More than just a casual situation. And it...it scared me."

He takes in a deep breath.

"And this person who has made me feel all this, made me start to think differently...is you," he finished.

"Don't be scared, Harry," I said, gripping onto his hand tightly, trying to make him feel secure.

"My dad changed his mind," he kept going. "And he left my mom. And I saw what that did to my mom. I just don't want to be hurt or hurt someone like that."

"I know, some people just...fall out of love," I said, gently. "But you can't let that stop you from experiencing love. Because, as much as it can be miserable and difficult and heartbreaking, it can also be magical. It can be so many things - good, beautiful, intense."

"Since we've started practicing for this show, I haven't thought about any other girl. I haven't done anything with any girl."

This shocked me. He hadn't? From the way he said this, I knew it was the truth. I knew he wholeheartedly couldn't shake his thoughts.

"Harry, you're so different from what I thought were going to be," I whispered. "And I like you a lot."

Guilt was nagging at my heart. The only reason why he liked me was because I was doing everything for my assignment. It wasn't what I really would've done, was it? It wasn't honest or truthful.

But, right now, I did honestly like him a lot. I have grown to care for him, to want to see him happy.

"Do you really think I could change?" he asked, his eyes wide. "Really be a different, better person?"

"Harry, you wanted to be that better person all along. It was always there," I said. "You just have to overcome your fear and allow that side of you to show."

"Will you help me?"

Those four words honestly made my whole heart melt. It warmed every inch of me, and I wanted to cry. Cry of happiness that he finally wanted to be that better person. That he finally was sick of his games and his mask that he wore all the time.

He was allowing himself to be vulnerable to the rest of the world. And that's what he needed.

"Yes, of course," I replied, breathlessly.

I leaned forward, and he did as well.

Our lips touched, and he and I were kissing with a softness, as if he or I were going to break at any moment. It was soft and sweet, along with a subtle intensity. As if he yearned to finally feel something he didn't know he could.

I pulled away, and his eyes stared into mine.

"Harry, I'll be right back," I told him, getting up and walking out to another room.

Shutting the door behind me, I pulled out my phone. I dialed a number that had been stored in my contacts.

The lady picked up:

"Hello, New York Times office, how may I help you?"

"Hi," I said, in a hushed voice. "This is Blake Davis."

"Yes, Blake, you have an interview scheduled for tomorrow. Correct?"

I took in a deep breath and said:

"Yeah, about that...I would like to cancel my interview. I am no longer interested in an internship."