Until the sun shines [h.s.]

Chapter 7- You bring me home

And all my walls stood tall, painted blue
And I'll take 'em down, take 'em down
And open up the door for you
And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies
The beautiful kind, making up for lost time
Taking flight, making me feel right

- Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran, Everything Has Changed.

_______________________________
Sumire

"I couldn't possibly impose that on you." I apologetically looked up from holding my head that was hanging in my hands. "Oh, you silly girl! I always love the company. And did I mention I bake amazing Stroopwafels?" -(stroopwafel is a Dutch sweet dish)- Charlie shrugged like it was a no big deal. With my luggage lost, there was nothing much I could do. Sure I had some bucks on my credit card, but I had recently reduced the limit so the most I could do was rent a motel room- but for how long? Warm streams of tear raced down my face and I consequently hugged Charlie for offering me a home. Lila jumped up and down excitedly, leading me towards the nearest taxi drivers.

The crisp autumn leaves, although all orange, made the enigmatic Amsterdam look even colorful and lively. The fresh scent of breeze was so calming that my temples had rested way quicker than I got worked up due to the incident. Also, the fact that I wasn't homeless (even though I knew I should have planned earlier or booked a hotel) relaxed me. It was a definitely true psychological fact that people get tired easily when they are stressed- and so was I, now slowly beginning to doze off while tousling Lila's curls.

The afternoon was just like any other- except my boyfriend had finally got a break from interviews, media, and haters. But the break was at the cost of a 103 degree Celsius fever, that wasn't exactly 'happening' for Haz because he was extremely sensitive. And now, he was lying unconsciously in the bed, his forehead heating up faster while I sat on the couch beside the bed. I had called my mom back in LA asking her for anything that could possibly be done- she suggested wetting the cloth with cold water and placing it on to Harry's forehead, replacing it at regular intervals while Anne made her homemade cooling recipe. The boys were still on tour but due to the dynamic rise in Haz's fever, Anne rushed to Amsterdam and though I was initially here for a seminar, I was now holding Harry's warm hand into my comparatively tiny ones.

"If I die today, would you still kiss my corpse?" Harry fluttered his eyes slightly open, seeming as joking but the look in the boy's eye was dead serious. I gulped trying to come up with something sassy but all I managed was "haha. Why not?" Seriously wasn't the best I could, looking at the otherwise bouncy and eclectic sweetheart, helplessly spasming with the unbearable body heat. I still was going to be there, replacing the wet cotton on his forehead until he was capable enough to retaliate my humor. "Sumire, could you please sing that song for me you keep humming?"
"Which one? I don't hum any songs" except for when I'm around you.
"'Make you feel my love'. I love it when you sing."
Oh, Harry, I will always hum the one for you.
"So I'm not as well vocalized as you are, but if you really want to torture yourself with my voice, here's anything and everything you ask for...
When the rain is blowing in your face,
When the whole world is on your case,
I could offer you a warm embrace,
To make you feel my love...
When the evening shadows and stars appear,
When there's no one there to dry your tears,
I could hold you for a million years,
To make you feel my love...