Issues // H.S. // A.U.

Chapter Twenty-Five

His smile that day, the way I opened up to him on the porch about my family... All of it was leading to this. To be able to speak my truth, however painful it was.

And just like that, all that worry evaporated.

It wasn't even tucked away in the far reaches of my subconscious. It lifted off of me, floating away and out of sight, as the boy who held my heart softly strummed his guitar. I felt so light, so airy. A smile started to form across my face, feeling slightly foreign after the week of misery I had put myself through. How could I ever have thought to stay away from him? I was addicted to him in the best possible way.

He was my medicine.

I shuffle on my knees to his side, cozying up against him, chin on his shoulder. I watched the way his fingers danced effortlessly on the strings, a melody filling the room. I hadn't heard it before, and I wondered if he had made it himself. How many songs had he actually written? I was so curious, and I realized just how much more I had to learn about him. I knew him so well, yet had a treasure trove to unfold.

He turned his head and pecked a kiss into my temple, keeping his lips there for a few seconds longer than usual. I hum quietly, feeling more content and at peace than I thought was possible after what had happened last night.

"Can you teach me?" I ask.

"Hm?" He stops playing, turning his head as I lift mine up. "Teach you how to play?"

I nod, "Yeah, just this melody. I like it a lot."

A soft smile plays on his lips, "You do?"

I breathe out a laugh, "I do. Did you come up with it?"

"I did... I call it Sweet Creature." He tells me.

My eyes flicker up from the guitar to meet his, a short silence following his words. "I don't remember reading that one."

"Just wrote it." He says quietly, handing me his guitar and walking over to his desk. He pushes away some loose papers and then grabs his newest notebook. I notice that he just started it, the cover pristine, and only a few pages turned in. He settles in behind me on the bed, setting the notebook down beside us. I let him wrap his arms around me and the guitar, showing me the beginning of the song again.

Harry moves my fingers in place, explaining things to me slowly, so I understand what's going on. I mess up a lot, never having even attempted playing an instrument before. I could barely sing on pitch and rhythm didn't come to me easily.

I hear him laugh behind my ear, so I pout, "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not, baby girl. I just remembered our first night together, and how terrible of a dancer you were." Her teases.

My jaw drops, and I look back at him to see an amused grin on his face. I smack his arm, and huff, "Didn't fail to get you hard."

"Oh, you could never. You're like Viagra to me."

I burst out laughing, feeling my face heat up. I feel his lips against my skin, kissing my temple and hairline. I could feel the curve of them, smiling against me. He peppers them down to my jaw and neck, and then surprises me with a big raspberry. I squeal, trying to squirm away, but he keeps me locked into place until he's laughing along with me.

"Harry..." I whine, "stop..."

"I'm sorry, baby girl. Just had to." He says.

"Can you play it for me, with the words and all?" I ask him, switching around positions, so he was holding the guitar again.

"If you want. I'll need you to hold up my journal, though. Don't have it memorized just yet."

So I hold up his journal wide open, so he can see both pages. He starts playing again, the music sounding like it's supposed to now. After a few seconds he starts singing.