The second day of the Berlin trip was for interviews and promotions. The arrangement was routine; the boys stayed in single location and different interviewers from radio stations, television stations, magazines, and newspapers would each be entitled to a maximum of twenty-five minutes with the boys.
Ruby and I were responsible for approving the questions for any interviews that were to be live streamed on social media sites like YouTube or Twitter. Management was very strict about the sorts of questions the boys could be asked and we had to make sure no inappropriate questions would be brought up during a live stream. Additionally, we supervised the interviews.
Harry was still ill, but was in much better spirits. Singing had made his voice even raspier than usual and he strained to be able to speak for a long period of time. Henry asked Harry countless times if he would prefer to rest instead of do the interviews, but Harry insisted. He didn't want to let the fans down.
____________
Our flight back to London was scheduled for that evening. After the interviews were over, we went back to the hotel to gather our belongings before we could drive to the airport. By the time we were ready to leave, an impenetrable force of fans had gathered outside the hotel. The screaming was perfectly audible even within the confines of the hotel lobby.
"Security is establishing a barrier," Henry explained. "Boys, you'll leave first. We don't have much time, but walk nice and slow and wave hello to fans. No time for photos. The rest of us will follow. There are three SUVs ready for everyone. We're just waiting for security."
I leaned against Harry as he took my hand. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and whispered, "You okay?"
"I'm fine," I nodded. It wasn't the whole truth; I had an uneasy feeling I couldn't quite explain, but I didn't want to bring it up. "Are you feeling any better?"
Harry cleared his throat, "Getting there."
A security guard opened the doors and nodded to the group, indicating we were able to walk to the cars now. Harry gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. We wouldn't be able to walk in front of the fans together. The walkway security had established was very narrow. There wasn't much room for two people to walk side by side. I followed after Harry as he walked slowly. He greeted fans kindly with a smile and a wave. Liam, Louis, and Niall preceded him down the path each doing the same.
I couldn't get rid of the nervous feeling I had. Fans and photographers were still a source of anxiety for me. It was strange to me that the boys could be so immune to the invasive crowds. It was the hardest thing for me to try to get used to. I hoped one day I wouldn't be so shaken by the attention.
Outstretched arms attempted to touch the boys as they passed by. My eye caught a sign that was being held by a girl in the distance. The sign had the faces of the band and was decorated with hearts and glitter. I walked without really paying attention to anything but the sign.
It all happened quickly. I felt something close around my upper arm. It was painfully tight and forceful. I turned to look and saw a hand was gripping me. The hand pulled me and I stumbled backward, narrowly keeping my balance. I couldn't even bring myself to call out to anyone. The hand tightened around me and fingers were digging into my arm. Suddenly, I heard a voice speaking in my ear. It was harsh and heavily accented, but the words were clear, "You are pathetic if you think you belong with someone like Harry."
Panic set in as I was being pulled against the buzzing crowd. My hips met the temporary metal barriers that had been placed to protect the band and separate them from the crowd. The person was still holding onto me. The grasp was powerful and I could feel my pulse increase as I grew more afraid.
"Harry!" I finally screamed when I realized the person was not letting go.
The yelling of the crowd was so loud I couldn't believe he heard me. Harry turned on his heel and the smile that had been on his face disappeared as he saw me pulled against the barrier with a hand on me. His face hardened and he stormed toward me with his eyes, now an unfamiliar darkened shade, fixated on the hand that was hurting me.
Before Harry reached me, I felt the hand being pried away. A bodyguard helped me to an upright position and ran his hand down the expanse of my arm that had just been imprisoned by the stranger. I winced at his touch. "Alright?"
"Yeah," I breathed.
"Are you okay, Kate?" Harry was right in front of me.
"Fine," I waved him off. "It's okay."
The bodyguard put an arm around my back protectively. He stood up tall and looked to the other bodyguards who were scattered among the other boys. "We're done! We're getting out of here. Boys, to the cars. No more stops!"
Obediently, the boys stopped waving to the fans and their smiles turned into blank stares as they made their way quickly to the car. None of them had seen what happened, but they didn't question security.
It was like the rest of the world closed off. My breathing was labored and rapid. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears perfectly. The crowd sounded like they were far away. I could see nothing but the pattern of Harry's coat as he rushed along in front of me. I could feel nothing but the bodyguard's hand on my back. I could think of nothing but stopping the tears that were brimming in my eyes from spilling out for everyone to see.
I stared at Harry's hand resting on my thigh as we sat on the plane. I was chewing the gum he had given to me to help with my ears and the pressure from the ascent of the flight. We were gaining altitude and I felt the force of gravity pushing me back in the chair. I focused on the dull, rhythmic ache from my upper arm. I was still shaken from the incident outside the hotel.
I knew Harry felt badly about the whole thing. He kept telling me he was sorry and saying he should have been more careful with me. It wasn't his fault; it wasn't anyone's fault. He couldn't always be there to protect me. And as much as I tried to ignore the thought, I knew he wouldn't always be there to protect me.
"When we get back home, we have to talk," I said quietly.
"About?"
"What's going to happen when you're on tour," I whispered.
Harry leaned forward and rested his forehead against mine and his hand on my thigh tightened its grip. I tried not to think about the stranger's hand on my arm. "Yeah, we'll talk."
"And can we go to your country house? I want to be alone...with you."
"Of course. We'll spend the rest of the week there."
"Thank you," I whispered.
I pulled away from Harry's face and stared out the window. I spent the next thirty minutes of the flight pretending like I wasn't crying and pretending like I didn't know Harry had noticed me crying.
____________
It was the early hours of the morning after we returned to Harry's house from the airport. Instead of lying in bed, Harry and I were sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace side by side. Our eyes were hooked on the dancing flame in front of us and our mouths were silent. We were both mulling over what we needed to say. It was the conversation we had been avoiding for weeks, but there was no more waiting to be done.
"I don't want you to be worried," he started.
"But I am." I gave a heavy sigh and realized he was waiting for me to say something more. "How did we do it last summer? How did we have a relationship with you so far away?"
"We started seeing each other after that wedding in June. I was on break from tour and we went out three or four times before I left for the rest of the European leg of the tour. You flew out to certain concerts for work and we would meet up then. It was hard, but the buildup of waiting to see each other was always so worth it."
I bit the inside of my cheek and uselessly tried to remember anything about that time in our relationship. Nothing came to me, but I wasn't disappointed. "But our relationship wasn't what it is now."
"No," he sighed. "You're right. You and I are much closer now."
We both let silence settle our busied minds. The fire served as a good distraction; suddenly, nothing was more interesting than the crackle and flutter of the flame. I could feel the warmth of the fire on my face. I shifted my weight and thought about how tired I was.
"Tell me the things you're most worried about." Harry was the first to break the new silence.
"Dealing with my memory by myself. You seem to know me the best and I rely on you to make up for what my memory can't do. You tell me who people are and help me in situations where my memory fails me. I'm afraid of doing it without you."
"What else?"
"The fans and photographers. You know that gives me anxiety still. I can't seem to get used to being followed around. You can hardly go anywhere without being followed. The few times I've gone out alone, I've been approached. I worry that it's not going to stop when you're gone. It just scares me."
"Anything else?"
"Just being alone." I looked at him now. "We've gotten so close these past few weeks. You've been there for me like no one else has. Any girlfriend would be sad about her boyfriend leaving for months. I just don't want to feel alone. I don't want to be alone."
Harry was quiet. His pulled his gaze from me and his lips formed a pout as he fell deeper in thought. He sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat. "You are far stronger than you realize. I don't think I know anyone who could handle what you've been dealing with. You don't need me to be your strength. Your memory is starting to come back and even if you struggle to remember things, you are clever and can manage yourself.
"It took years for me to get used to being followed around. And even still, it's a little unnerving that I can't even go out to lunch without being trailed the entire time. Trust me, I hate that you are uncomfortable and I hate that they want to see you. I would love for you to be just for me, but it's not how it works. I don't want you to be afraid to go out and have fun and be seen. And please, don't worry about what fans think of you. There will always be people who don't see you the way I see you."
I smiled with the feeling of a blush creeping along my cheeks. Then I realized he hadn't addressed one of my fears. "And what about being alone?"
His lips formed a crooked closed-mouthed smile, but then quickly faded. "You will be alone, Kate. And I feel miserable about that. But you have to trust me, I will make this work for us."
"I trust you."
"I'll be busy, but I won't be unavailable."
It was a nice statement filled with promise, but I knew it wasn't true. Long days of rehearsing, performing, writing, recording, making appearances, and doing promotions. It was an endlessly demanding job that left little room for him to call his girlfriend thousands of miles away. In the back of my mind, I held a little hope that maybe things wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I wouldn't be so scared. Maybe I wouldn't be so alone.
____________
We still hadn't gone to bed nearly an hour later. I sat at the kitchen counter drinking a cup of tea Harry made for me while he went out to his car in search of his phone. I watched the copper colored liquid swirl around in the cup. There was foam forming on the top around the rim of the cup from the honey. As I took a final sip, I thought about how much I would miss this tea when Harry was away.
The front door opened and closed loudly and I sat up straighter waiting for Harry to come in the kitchen. "Did you find your phone?"
"What?" he stomped into the kitchen. He was gripping a pair of my boots in his fist. "Oh, yeah I did. Here, put these on."
"What's going on?" I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearing three in the morning.
"Come on!" He wasn't going to explain.
I stood up and abandoned my tea in favor of slipping into the boots. Harry took my hand and went to the back door through the small dining area in the kitchen. He turned the lock and allowed me to step out of the house. He turned the kitchen light off before joining me.
We stood on the back deck overlooking the semi-frozen pond. Walnut trees surrounded the high deck. With the kitchen light off, we were completely in the dark. I turned to Harry for some sort of explanation as to why he had dragged me out into the freezing cold, but his eyes were skyward.
"Look," he whispered and pointed up.
The sky was heavy with stars. They were intensely bright standing out against the inky nighttime sky. It was like a choreographed dance as one would twinkle, then the next, and then another. The stars were scattered about haphazardly; positioned by chance to create a beautiful view for anyone willing to simply look up.
The sky was like a dark sheet keeping any light at bay and making an exception for the tiny stars. Hardly anything else was visible so I drew nearer to Harry. A small fear of darkness had followed me from childhood. I bumped into his arm and stayed there to feel his warmth.
I gazed upward with my eyes tracing the constellations I could recognize. It had been ages since I had properly appreciated the heavenly nightscape. Each star was well behaved with a gentle glint. Then suddenly, one rebellious star streaked across the sky. The star brightened tremendously and left a tail of fiery light that lingered before turning into blackness once again.
"A falling star!" I took rushed steps to the edge of the deck and gripped the railing to get a better look at the sky.
"I saw it," Harry said in awe as he followed me to the edge. "I saw another when I was out at the car finding my phone. That's why we're out here."
Just when my eyes recovered from seeing one falling star, it was joined by one of its mates. A second star swam across the black ocean of sky and disappeared into its depths. I felt like a child gaping at the natural phenomenon, but there was something so magical about it.
Stars began falling at a frequency I had never before witnessed. One after another after another took its last journey through the night sky and left a little space for another star. Just when one star leapt forward, another star took its chance.
Harry took my hand and slowly turned me around. He pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around me. I snuggled my face into his chest and breathed in his scent with the faint awareness that I wouldn't be able to it in a few weeks. Together, we turned our faces so we could see the sky with our bodies still entwined.
After a few quiet moments of watching the stars, I felt Harry's hand sneak up the back of my shirt and begin tracing gentle patterns across the small of my back. His movements felt good against my skin. I loved when he rubbed my back. It was our own form of being intimate. Even with the freezing air, I could have spent the entire night with Harry's hand on me and the dazzling light show being put on by the universe.
We remained on the deck for a long time. Our eyes never grew tired of seeing the diamond-like stars plunge through the sky. Each one gave me the same rush of excitement like it was the first I had seen that night. I loved that it was another memory to have with Harry. I had been consciously trying to create memories with Harry to have for when he was away.
As I stood in the coolness of the night with Harry's fingertips lightly moving against my skin, how could I pretend like the stars were the only ones falling? How could I pretend like I, too, wasn't falling? But unlike the stars, I wasn't falling because I was burning out. I was falling because my burn was just now igniting. And unlike the stars, I wasn't fueled by gases. I was fueled by a boy. Yes, I was falling like the stars, but I was falling for Harry.
What's more, how could I pretend like I didn't notice that Harry's fingers had stopped tracing meaningless shapes and had started tracing the letters to form the words "I love you" against my back?
____________
The following afternoon marked the first of the final ten days I had with Harry before he would be leaving on tour. We were both caught in between excitement and sadness. Harry loved touring and had been anxious to get back to performing. I would be going back to work as soon as tour started and I was ready for that. But there was also a sense that both of us were dragging our feet as we approached the tenth day in March. That would mean our world would be burst open and no longer would it be the two of us living our quiet, private existence.
Harry was in the kitchen working on his laptop at the table. I was in the closet searching for an earring I had lost at some point. I had checked every other room in the house and even ventured out to the car where I found nothing but a forgotten mint and receipt from a tailor.
I crouched to the ground and began looking along the floor for the earring when the light in the closet suddenly went out. I stood up and flicked the light switch a few times before concluding the bulb had burned out.
"Harry?" I came up behind him and rested my hands on his shoulders.
"Yeah, love?"
"The light burned out in the closet. Can you come change the bulb?"
"Sure." He rose from the table.
Harry followed me down the hallway back toward the bedroom. Halfway down the hall, I turned on my heel and faced Harry. He stopped short of running into me.
"What will I do without you?" I teased as I walked into his arms.
"Dress in the dark?" he joked.
"Very funny," I smirked.
Harry's arms closed around me and pressed me up against him. He leaned down and his face hovered over mine. Typically, he would have leaned down to take a kiss, but he was holding back for some reason. His eyes were mischievous; I then understood he was waiting for me to make a move.
I stood up on my toes to properly reach Harry's lips. I pressed mine against his and felt his lips soften at the mercy of mine. His body tensed momentarily, likely shocked I had taken his bait and made the first move. It took no time at all for him to deepen the kiss.
Boldly, I moved my lips off of his. I pressed kisses across his cheek and down his jawline. I left no space untouched as I traced down his neck and across his collarbones. I suddenly felt self-conscious about my forwardness so I slowed down and went to pull away.
"Don't be shy," he encouraged. His hand moved up to cradle the back of my head momentarily.
I smirked at his words. Harry's shirt was hardly buttoned as usual. He loosened his grip on me as I began kissing across the stretch of his chest and then up his neck again. Upon moving upward, I found a certain spot that made him tighten around me. I found small expanse of skin just below his ear and behind his jawbone to kiss and just as my lips met the space, he let out a long, strangled breath.
"Right there," he gasped. "That's where I like it." His breath hitched at the end of what was supposed to be a chuckle as I increased my pressure.
I bit down gently on the skin and another deep hum left his lips. He tilted his head to the side to grant me more access. I had never seen Harry this way; he was all but moaning as I sucked on his sweet spot.
"Enough," he suddenly interrupted me. His voice was deep, gravelly, commanding.
Harry's hands grabbed me and pushed me up against the wall. His eyes met mine and I noticed how dark they had gotten. The gentle and loving look that usually occupied his stare was gone. In its absence was certain eagerness. He kept his face a small distance from mine before he attached his lips to my lips.
As he made light work of establishing his dominance, I understood that's what he had wanted all along. He had loved the feeling of me against him, but he wanted the control. He wanted the power.
With eyes closed and lips beginning their descent from my lips toward my neck, he pushed the collar of my t-shirt back farther off my shoulder so he had more space to attend to. He trailed all along my neck eliciting small gasps from me as he went.
"Harry," I whined.
He left wet, open-mouthed kisses along my shoulder and collarbones. He was holding me tightly against the wall. His hands pinned my shoulders back and my head rolled to the side to let him have his way.
He always made me feel like I was burning alive.
I didn't even try to control my breathing. Each pant came out shaky near Harry's ear, closer to a whimper than a real breath. My fingers tangled in his soft hair. He pushed me harder against the wall and forced his hips against mine. Harry put his knee between my legs. He pulled his lips away from me, but kept his body close. He eyed me carefully to make sure he hadn't crossed any lines. I looked at his darkened eyes and at lips that had become slightly swollen from their work. All I could do was give a nod and he kept going.
Harry let out a low hum as his lips continued to move along my skin. Periodically, he would push his hips a little closer to me before letting off and giving me more room to breathe. He paused a second time and let his lips hover over my shoulder and collarbones where he had just been. His breath fanned out over the now-wet skin causing it to feel cold. I shuddered and a high, breathy sound fell from my lips encouraging Harry to continue. He didn't need to take the hint twice.
As Harry began moving back to my neck, his hands slipped from my shoulders and began moving down my arms. Harry's hand moved over the area on my arm where the person from Berlin had grabbed me. I subconsciously flinched away from Harry and he didn't understand. He tightened his grip around my arm and I felt all the same ache from earlier return.
"Harry," I pulled away completely.
And just as suddenly as he had leaned against me, he pulled away from me. He looked up with his eyebrows furrowed. His eyes instantly returned to their normal shade of green and his features shifted from eager to worried. I looked away, suddenly self-conscious about stopping him. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and watched as I pulled my t-shirt back into proper position over my shoulder.
"What's the matter?" His voice was softer than I would have guessed it to be after I abruptly made him stop kissing me.
"My arm," I said weakly.
"Where you were grabbed," he finished. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath to relax his heartbeat that had undoubtedly quickened as a result of our kissing. "Can I see?"
I looked down to my arm that was covered by a sleeve and shrugged. He carefully pushed the sleeve up toward my shoulder. There, midway between my elbow and shoulder was the prominent bruise left by a stranger in Germany. The outline of fingertips was visibly marked in an ugly blackish blue. The bruise stretched all the way around my arm. The ache pulsated with my heartbeat.
"I'm so sorry," Harry whispered. He leaned his head down and pressed gentle, barely-there kisses to my bruised arm. "Hey!"
"What?" I asked. His sudden burst of energy took my by surprise.
Harry stooped down and took something from the floor. He held it up in front of my eyes and I saw the shiny stone and metal. "Here's that earring you've been searching for."