How It's Going To Be [h.s.]

Chapter 56

{Kate's Point of View}

I spent a week practically living out of the office. We had early mornings and late nights in preparation for the London concerts. London is the epicenter for One Direction fans, which inevitably means bigger shows with higher energy and more media attention. Ruby and Laura were both orchestrating the massive feat of developing promotional strategies and delegating tasks to the rest of us at the office. I sat at my computer for an entire Tuesday working on One Direction's Twitter and Facebook pages uploading and posting content about the London shows, which also happened to be the end of the European leg of the tour.

Ruby showed the office mercy by letting us leave at midday. It was a relief to be out of the office, but the weather was stiflingly hot outside, making staying inside the only desirable activity. I went home and paced around my kitchen for a few minutes before deciding to get more work done.

I had a flood of new emails waiting for me in my inbox as I sat at the desk in my spare bedroom and opened my laptop. A breeze from the open window rustled papers on my desk and condensation dripped down a cold bottle of soda as I typed quick replies to the endless emails. My focus was precise; I ignored sounds of traffic on the street below my window and the techno music coming from the flat directly above me. I was so absorbed in my work that I nearly missed the loud knocking on my front door.

I closed my laptop and smoothed my short-sleeved cotton dress. The skirt of the dress flowed around my thighs as I walked to the door. I didn't bother looking out the small eyehole in the center of my door to see who was knocking. Instead, I pulled open the door to find no one there. In the place where I presumed a person would be standing, there was a single red balloon anchored to a bouquet of white peonies. There was a small note tied to the balloon where it was attached to the string.

Make a wish.

The red balloon was identical to the one I released into the night in Milan when I made my wish with Harry. I could smell the fragrant peonies at my feet and knelt to pick them up. I smiled as I pressed my face against the soft petals and took in their scent deeply. Harry had once again proven his boyfriend superiority by sending me flowers and a balloon. As I crouched on the floor, something occurred to me: Harry had told me over the phone that he only sent peonies when he was present to see my reaction.

A pair of Saint Laurent boots walked up and stopped in my line of sight as I stared at the floor. Slowly, I stood up. He wore familiar tight skinny jeans and a plain grey t-shirt. He had tired eyes from traveling. He had a smile that could cure any ill feeling. He was here two days early. He was Harry.

"Hello, love."

"Harry," I breathed.

Harry wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me gently. I giggled as my feet left the floor. He set me back down and kissed me slowly, methodically. His mouth tasted of spearmint. When he was satisfied that my lips had been given enough attention, Harry began kissing down my neck. "I missed you," he whispered into my neck before carefully nipping at the skin with his teeth.

"Let's take this inside," I whispered hoarsely.

Harry pulled me by my hand into my flat and pushed me up against the closed door. The peonies fell from my hand and landed pitiably on the floor with a dull thud. Harry reattached his lips to my neck and continued his intense display employing his lips, tongue, and teeth.

"I'm really sorry about everything." Harry's breath fanned out over my neck and shoulder, cooling the places still wet from his mouth.

"It's okay," I panted. Truthfully, having Harry in my presence had melted away all resentment I had about our lack of communication.