Golden [h.s.]

35. what are the odds?

🎵Family Tree — Matthew West

I wake up to the soft sound of a guitar being strummed faintly through the villa. I stretch out on the large bed before I set my feet down on the wood floor, going to brush my teeth quickly in the bathroom.

When I'm finished, I follow the sound of the guitar and see Harry in the living room, a pen in mouth as he strums the strings. He looks adorable; he's shirtless, wearing a pair of salmon shorts and his hair is pushed back. He catches my eye and smiles.

"Sorry you didn't wake up to me," Harry apologizes, gesturing for me to come over. I shake my head, walking over to him and giving him a soft kiss.

"Don't apologize," I say, walking around him and placing my arms around his shoulder. "What's that you're playing?" Harry leans his head to the side, kissing my hand before turning back to the guitar.

"Wouldn't you like to know, my little muse?" Harry teases me. "I had this one melody I couldn't get out my head, so I figured I'd come grab the guitar and just play it out." I smile, listening to him tug on the strings. The sound is beautiful.

"Did you eat?" I ask, remembering that the refrigerator hasn't been stocked since we got here, except for yesterday morning when Harry got us breakfast.

He shakes his head. "Not as yet, I was waiting on you to wake up and figured I'd go get what you'd like," he replies. I smile at him.

"I'll go," I reply, bending down to kiss his cheek. "Unless you don't trust me with the car," I tease.

Harry laughs loudly, a beautiful sound, like music to my ears. He never fails to give me butterflies. "On second thought...." He laughs again. "Are you sure, I can go with you..."

I shake my head again. I love when he gets like this, when he springs up and begins to hum and write the melodies that are in his head. I wouldn't ever want to tear him away from that. "I'm sure, baby. I just have to grab my phone and put on some pants."

Harry tells me of a little market that's 15 minutes away from the villa. He makes sure to repeat the address so that I can input it in my phone's GPS. I run to the room, grabbing my phone to see a missed call from Lydia. I dial her back quickly as I pull on some shorts and one of Harry's tshirts.

"Hello?" Lydia answer.

"Coucou!" I chime out and I hear Lydia laugh; my mother and I taught her some French when we were in high school back in Arizona.

"Talking in French, hm? La France déteint sur toi," Lydia teases. She yawns. I'm suddenly reminded of the time difference and I immediately feel guilty. I walk back into the living room, looking for the keys to the rental car.

"Tu dors? Oh, j'suis désolée..."

"Non, non!" Lydia replies. I smile a bit to hear her speaking French back at me; I'm surprised she's remembered after all these years. It makes me smile that she plays along with me.

"Je viens de me réveiller, j'ai passé une longue nuit..Est-ce qu'il s'est passé quelque chose?"

I shake my head. "Bah non.. non, ce n'est pas important," I reply. "I saw a missed call from you!" I add in English.

"I wanted to ask how your birthday was! I didn't wanna bother you yesterday," Lydia speaks; I hear her rustling over the phone. "Did you have a good time, tell me everything!" I motion to Harry about the keys and he points to the kitchen. A small smile creeps onto his face as I continue to speak.

"Ouais, on a été à la plage, et maintenant on—"

Lydia suddenly cuts me off in English. "Did you have birthday sex? I don't know how to say sex in French, Estelle wouldn't teach me when I asked..."