It's You [H.S.]

8.14 | Only you

>

Shocked when director Harry's First Assistant calls "Wrap" for the day, Eloise can't believe it's almost 5pm already.

Contending with rush hour and wanting some time to speak with Harry properly, she won't have long to get ready before they need to head out again for Liam's early birthday drinks tonight.

He'd ordinarily be partying it up at his beloved Funky Buddha, but fatherhood might have already calmed him down a bit as he'd decided on Shoreditch House instead.

Back in her trailer, checking her phone, she feels a flash of indignation that Harry hasn't been in touch. Her hackles rise all too quickly again.

Well, fuck it and fuck him! If he's so intent on stewing a little longer, she'll bloody let him. She will go tonight, but she won't reach out to let him know, and will just see him there, presumably.

Rummaging through a chair piled with clothes in the corner, she finds a dress and decides to head straight to her old flat to get ready with Malin instead.

>

Surprised that she isn't back already when he arrives home, Harry checks his phone and realises he hasn't heard from her.

Hmm, that'll be her legendary stubborn streak in action.

Oh well, he shakes it off. He's been working like a demon, so may as well blow off some steam and catch-up with the boys before he flies back to California and then heads out on tour.

Tom has plans of his own with some old mates. Mitch blows it off, keen for a quiet night in alone to decompress. Jeff already headed back to LA last weekend.

He figures she won't go and hopes the extra few hours will help her cool off before he has to face her. Maybe Mitch can do him a solid and help talk her down for him?

>

Keeping his head bowed on his way back to the main bar from the toilets, Harry sings the new lyrics from this afternoon under his breath. "I don't know what I'd tell you, if you asked me for the truth". He can't get them out of his head, which he always takes to be a good sign.

As he looks up quickly to orient himself towards their back corner, he stops in his tracks, surprised to see her - from behind, but he'd recognise her anywhere, from any angle. Hanging back surreptitiously, he tries to suss out her mood.

Seeing her laugh freely with Liam and Niall - Louis is out in LA - only makes him feel more wretched that it's evidently just him pulling her down. He can't help but move on to the chorus. "I don't want your sympathy / But you don't know what you do to me / Oh, Baby".

With a deep breath, he heads tentatively back towards them and can't help but eye her legs appreciatively in her flippy red floral wrap minidress. They're lengthened further by her Swedish Hasbeen's heeled tan clog sandals, and he's big enough to admit the training is evidently paying off. She's in incredible shape already; lean, toned and tanned.

George Michael's Faith is playing and he can't help but smile wryly as he sings that under his breath too. "Well I guess it would be nice / If I could touch your body". He tails off with a groan as he catches an inviting glimpse of her cleavage as she turns and laughs at something Niall said, playfully swatting him.

She must catch him in her peripheral vision as she turns, because he spots the moment she stills and her whole demeanour shifts.

Taking a steady sip from her champagne flute, she locks eyes with him. Her expression, for once, is fairly unreadable; or maybe he just doesn't want to read what it's telling him?