Peligro (A Harry Styles Fanfiction) INTENSE EDITING IN PROGRESS

Chapter 41

I sat back and listened. He wasn't really playing anything. Just random chords. Somehow even that small amount of sound still soothed me. He kept his back to me, but I secretly hoped he would turn around. Even though I was still a little overwhelmed with the information he had literally just pored out me, I still wanted to see him. Almost as if that by seeing him, I would be able to forget about all the horrible things he had done in his past.

"Dammit." He mumbled.

"What's wrong?" I finally spoke. I had remained silent while he had been playing. I didn't want to disturb him.

He turned around, and my heart leaped. Even just seeing him still managed to form butterflies in my stomach.

"Nothing, this thing is just really fucked up. The wood must have warped from being up in the cold too long. It's completely out of tune, and I don't have a tuner." He explained.

"I can tune it for you? Even though I don't play, I had to memorize the sound of each note for orchestra."

He looked up at me and gave me a unsure look. He looked down at the instrument and back at me, thinking things over.

"Ok, fine. But if you break it, I'm gonna be really fucking pissed." He agreed. Even though his tone was light, there was still a hint of seriousness in his voice so I knew I had to be careful.

I walked over to him and took a spot on the floor next to the chair he was sitting on. He set it in my lap, and crossed his arms. He looked completely unsure in his decision to allow me to do this for him.

I gulped, and then ran my finger across the first string. I cringed at the note that came out.

I naturally had perfect pitch, so I already knew exactly how each note was supposed to sound like. It was a blessing to have as a musician because I was always in tune. But as a regular human being living in a non-musical world, it was torture. I would always hear random notes, and when they were out of tune, I would cringe. It was like nails on a chalkboard.

I hummed the correct note and tuned the string to it. I repeated this with each string. I handed it back to Harry, and he looked awestruck.

"Wow, how did you do that? Without a tuner? Dammit."

I blushed and looked down.

"I don't know, I just kind of did."

He shrugged and placed the instrument back on his lap. He started strumming the open strings and nodded his head.

"Perfect." He smiled.

He started strumming again, but this time to an actual song. I recognized it instantly. It was a song by another one of my favorite bands. I sat back and closed my eyes.

"It's the way that you blush when you're nervous.

It's the your ability to make me earn this.

I know that your tired, just let me sing you to sleep.

It's about how you laugh out of pity.

Cause lets be honest, I'm not really that funny.

I know that you're shot, just let me sing you to sleep."

I watched as he continued to sing. He closed his eyes, sinking into the lyrics. He looked as if he meant every word.

I watched as his curls would fall slightly and go back into place as he strummed up and down with the song. His large fingers extended to reach new chords and his other hand ran softly across the metal strings.