I couldn't sleep - here's an update lol
...
Harry
"So how're things going over there?" Mitch asks me through the bluetooth speaker in my car.
I shrug as I drive through the city, on my way to pick Amelia up. We have our MET Gala fittings today so I offered to drive us to the hotel Alessandro and his team is at as soon as Amelia got off work - she was just recently cleared to go back from her doctor. We were supposed to get fitted this past weekend, but unfortunately Alessandro had an issue and couldn't make it. Now we're on a time crunch to get everything put together and of course I'm running late because of this goddamn New York City traffic.
"They're going well, I think, considering everything going on. I told you our last therapy session wasn't the best but honestly things have been going better than expected," I say. I suddenly slam on the breaks when a balding man practically jumps out in front of my car, jaywalking across the street. "Hey, ya fucking twat!"
"Whoah there, what did I do?" Mitch chuckles.
I shake my head and huff dramatically.
"Sorry," I mutter. "Driving in New York City is a nightmare and it's pissing me off."
"Traffic?"
"Yes, a bloody fuck ton, and some folically-challenged ass wipe just walked in front of me," I complain just as I swerve my car, this time narrowly missing someone trying to merge into my lane.
"Say, where exactly is 'fuck ton' on the metric scale?" Mitch asks, causing me to roll my eyes.
"It's right between 'fuck' and 'off'," I respond.
"It's valid question, though, you have to admit. At what point is something considered a fuck ton instead of just a ton? When is the line crossed?"
I sigh and tighten my grip on the steering wheel, my knuckles practically turning white.
Fuck, I'm going to be so late.
"Do I seem like a bloody scientist to you?" I ask. "Go Google it or something, I don't know. But what I do know is that Amelia is going to murder me if I'm not there to pick her up within the next five minutes! Why is everyone in this damned city out right now?"
It's a random Tuesday in April, it's not like it's a holiday weekend or some shit like that. There's no reason why there should be this much traffic. Maybe because it's rush hour, or just the city in general, but I accounted for all of that and I'm still running late. Plus it's not even like we live that far away. Amelia usually takes the subway in every day no problem.
"Don't worry, Harry. Amelia won't 'murder' you. She's pretty laid back. Just give her a call or something," Mitch tells me in a weak attempt to soothe my rage.
"You know as well as I do that as soon as I go to call her, I'm going to get pulled over by an undercover cop or something for being on my phone. Can't take that risk," I tell Mitch.
"Okay, then I'll do it, alright? I'll send her a quick message saying you're on your way."
"Okay," I say. I pause for a second while Mitch writes up his message, thinking to myself while I drive a little further. "Does it make me a dick to not message her myself?" I suddenly ask, feeling a little panicked. I've been trying overly hard to be a good boyfriend, not that I wasn't earlier but ever since our therapy session, it's all I've been thinking about. It consumes all of my thoughts, even those not relevant to Amelia.
"No, why would it?" Mitch responds.
I shrug as I come to a red light.
"I don't know," I admit. "I'm just...questioning everything, I guess."
"Nah, don't worry. You're just paranoid. Hell, I'd be too if I were in your position, but you said things are going good, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"So there's nothing to worry about. Besides this is Amelia, we're talking about. She's understanding. Getting a text from me instead of you while you're driving isn't going to make her think any differently of you."
I bite the inside of my cheek. I know he's right. I've just been I this weird headspace lately where I'm nervous to do anything.
Well, perhaps nervous is the wrong word, actually. Timid is more like it, or apprehensive.
"I know," I say. I take my foot of the brake and accelerate the car once the light turns green again. "I'm just trying to speak her love language."
"Love language?" Mitch asks, his voice laced with confusion.
"Yeah. There's five of them. It's how someone likes to experience love. Her's is words of affirmation, which means she likes when I talk to her and listen and communicate. All that stuff - oh bugger off, you fucking wanker!"
A middle aged man, wearing only a metallic purple speedo that accentuates his manhood, flips me off as I nearly run into him. It's not my fault he stumbled out in front of my car and I almost hit him. Who would have thought that there would be moving cars on a road? It's wild concept, really.
"Harry, I'm going to go. I love you, but your road rage is a bit extreme and I think you need to concentrate on driving more than you need to talk to me," Mitch says with a laugh. "Call me later, okay? Or text me. I just want to know how the dress fitting goes."
"Okay," I respond. I slam on my breaks again when the person in front of me stops short. It takes everything in me to not scream bloody murder, but I try to compose myself while I'm on the phone. "I'll keep you posted, if I ever get there that is."
Mitch chuckles.
"You will. Just take your time and try not to do anything stupid. You're a shit driver, you know."
"No promises, but I'll try."
We exchange brief goodbyes before he hangs up and the sound of my music replaces his voice. Stevie Nicks, thank God. Something to calm me down.
It takes me another fifteen minutes to get to Amelia's place of work. I'm jittery with nerves and anger by the time I get there, but luckily I manage to find a parking spot not too far away, which helps calm me down a little.
After parking, pretty poorly might I add, I quickly hop out of the car and rush down the block. I can just see the building up ahead when a familiar face walks out of it, lighting up when she sees me.
Amelia breaks out into a run and meets me halfway, throwing her arms around my neck while I pick her up and spin her around. Immediately I soften up, seeing how unbelievably happy she is. I was a little worried this morning when I brought her in to work because she was in a terrible mood due to a headache. I was worried she was cleared to go back too soon, but she seems fine right now - ecstatic, even.
"What's got my love bug so happy?" I ask her, my own grin beginning to form.
I set her down on the floor, leaving my hands on her waist while hers rest on my shoulders. She beams up at me, her pretty eyes wide with excitement and a bright smile on her face.
"My boss approved my novel for publishing," she tells me, her voice slightly shaky. "He's going to work with me as my agent during this process and wants a final copy of my novel soon so we can start the actual publication process."
My nearly bursts from joy. I physically feel it swelling in my chest, pounding against my ribcage.
I lean down, hugging Amelia and picking her up again.
"That's so great, Amelia," I tell her, causing her to giggle as I spin her around again. "I'm so, so, so proud of you, darling."
I place her down on the ground and then press my lips to hers in a somewhat feverish and desperate kiss. However, before things can become too heated, she pulls away.
"Thank you," she shyly responds. "I still have to figure out the title and the cover, and then re-read the entire thing, but I'm just so excited. I'm so happy, Harry."
I can't help it. I cup Amelia's face in my hands and pepper her with small kisses, all over her cheeks and lips. I don't even care if we are in public right now. I know I should, but I just don't. I just want to celebrate this huge milestone with her, no matter where we are.
God, I'm so excited for her. I know how much she's always wanted to become a published author, and now it's finally happening - officially.
"I love you," I tell her. "I knew you'd always be a bloody brilliant writer, from the moment I read your senior project. You're gifted, love, and I'm so happy that you're being recognized. Hopefully one day you'll let me read what you've written."
Amelia smiles at me, a light pink dusting over her cheeks.
"Thank you. I love you, too," she says. "And I will, I promise. I just want you to read the final product, but it's important to me I get your feedback before I publish it. Just let me finish and you'll be the first to see it."
I grin.
"Deal," I say. I cup her uninjured cheek lightly in my hand, her head leaning into my touch. "Let's celebrate tonight. We'll do anything you'd like."
Amelia's lips purse as she ponders over my suggestion. I was going to recommend either going out or her picking out a gift for me to buy her, but before the words could come out I remembered that she doesn't like me spoiling her too much. So I managed to swallow them down and put the ball in her court.
"Don't we have our MET Gala fittings tonight?" she asks.
I nod.
"We do, but they shouldn't take terribly long - maybe an hour at most, assuming everything goes well. But even if they run longer than that, the night won't be over. We'll make time for whatever it is you want," I assure her.
She bites her lip, her pupils dilating the smallest amount. It was practically microscopic but I somehow managed to catch it.
"Do you remember that one night when you drew us a bath? It was right before Christmas - not the last one but the one before last," she slowly says.
My heart starts thumping erratically in my chest. Of course I remember. The intimate memory lives in my mind all the time. It was probably one of my favorite nights with Amelia, although any night with her is a gift.
I was particularly nervous that day because I'm terrible with surprises, and also because I wanted it to be romantic and special. I had gone out and bought roses, only to scatter the petals throughout the apartment. Then I lit as many candles as I could find and scattered them in our bathroom, where I drew us a bubble bath. It was perfect, and even more so because she was right there with me.
It was also the night we talked about children and marriage. I had already known at that point that I wanted to propose to her, but us talking about a life together really solidified all of those thoughts.
"I do," I reply, feeling that same jittery feeling I felt that night.
"Well, I want that," Amelia says. "That's how I want to celebrate."
Oh.
I don't know what I was expecting, but I'm fucking thrilled to hear it's this. This is better than anything else we could do. It's soft and romantic and intimate - my favorite things.
It's also a huge milestone in our relationship. We haven't bared all in front of each other since well before our break. Although I'm not anticipating it turning sexual, and I certainly won't push for it if she's not ready, it's still exciting knowing we're going to be engaging in something more personal than usual. It's a step forward, and it'll be nice to just spend time together in our own little secluded world without any outside stressors or grief.
"Okay," I respond, a stupid smile forming on my face. "We still have candles and bath soap somewhere. I can also run out and get flowers - "
"Don't worry about the flowers," Amelia cuts me off. "I loved it, believe me, but I don't need it this time, okay?"
I nod, although maybe I'll sneak out while Amelia is getting fitted, if I've finished early. I'll have to play it by ear, and also account for travel time which will probably take three times as long as usual.
"Okay, baby," I say. I lean down again, this time kissing the top of Amelia's head. "Let's head out of here and to our fitting. I can't wait to go home so I can shower you with compliments and as many kisses as I want."
Amelia giggles.
"Good, let's go then. Now I'm excited for our celebration. I'll probably be distracted the entirety of this dress fitting," she says.
Probably, I think. At least I know I will.
..
I recorded Harry's Grammy performance! It's not the best quality but it's on my Instagram for those who are interested (zoechristinaxx). I also recorded his acceptance speech but Instagram kept taking it down for copyright so if you'd like it, dm me :)
I'm very proud of Harry and I think it was a well deserved win! It was an honor just to have been nominated.
Also here are some of my Grammy thoughts lol please enjoy, and maybe you can relate: 1) Harry's dance made me scream (you know the one) 2) FATHER MITCH IS LITERALLY A FATHER I'M SO HAPPY FOR HIM AND SARAH 3) I'm glad Lionel Richie is alive because for some reason I thought he died LMAO 4) Harry is fucking TINY. I need his workout routine asap 5) Him and Taylor talking at the Grammys? Adorable. I love her as a person and artist and it made my heart so happy (also him and Lizzo. 11/10)