Chances || H.S.

10 | Hi, Baby.

Easton:

I'm alone in my apartment and for the first time in two days, I feel like I can catch my breath. Harry is gone to New York and today honestly was the best day. I wasn't expecting him to open up to me and show me such an intimate part of him by inviting me to his own house. It was a beautiful two-story house that was nestled into an area of town that I consider to be the "Hollywood Hills" of Nashville. I am not sure if anyone else calls it that, but I do so it sticks.

The past few days have felt like some sort of fever dream, and I have never been more thankful that I pushed myself to speak to him in the bar. He looked so sad. I couldn't get over the fact that I had just watched him perform a sold-out show at the Bridgestone only for him to look like this directly after. I just wanted to help him out. Make him not so woe-is-me.

Don't get me wrong, I know that being famous isn't always what it seems. I have worked with a few clients on T.V. sets and photoshoots where they always talk about the negative side of being famous, but that doesn't make all of them unappreciative. Harry, as far as I can tell, seems to be extremely grateful. And it makes him all the more genuine.

When we were curled up on his couch today, he spent an hour explaining to me how a tour works. I was fascinated by his knowledge and the fact that he knew almost every crew member's name. He made the point to let me know that he treats them like family because they often spend months away from their own family in order to help him put on his show. He is very endearing and it makes my heart swell.

When I went to leave his home, I could tell he was struggling with words which I found to be funny.

"So I guess I'll see you later? Maybe?" He scratches the back of his head as he walks me to the door.

"Harry, it's gonna be fine. We'll figure it out." I pause and turn towards him. He sighs and motions for me to step into his arms. He smoothes his hands out over my back and I inhaled his scent for the last time today. I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head.

"The last two days, I have felt more alive than I have in a while," He pulls away slightly to look down at me. "So thank you." I blush at his words, and I couldn't help but to raise up onto my tip-toes and place a kiss on his lips. His right-hand goes to my cheek and he holds me there against his lips.

"It's no problem, H," I mumble against the corner of his mouth when I finally pull away from the kiss and look at him again. His eyes light up at the slip of the nickname. I know he signs his tweets like that and he calls me E, so it only seems right.

"I like hearing you call me that."

"Yeah?"

"Sure do."

And that was that. He kissed me once more and he watched me walk to my Uber, which he insisted that he paid for.

Now I am standing here in my kitchen, a glass of Meiomi, my favorite pinot noir, in my hand as I lean over my counter. The sun is setting over the city and I watch as the buildings begin to look as though they are painted in watercolor.

I start to aimlessly scroll through my phone and decide that I should probably call my best friend and tell her that I am not dead. She has been blowing up my phone all weekend, but I felt the need to keep my whereabouts private. Which for the two of us, is a big no.

I hit her contact as I start to move across my space and fall down onto my couch that I thought was the epitome of comfy until I sat on Harry's. The phone only rings twice before I hear her shrill through the phone.

"Easton? What in the fuck!" I have to pull the phone away from my ear due to her volume.

"Han, calm down." I try to reason with her but it's not getting me anywhere.