Despite the cool temperature of the room, I woke too hot in Harry's hoodie. My hand was still under Harry's shirt resting against his stomach. I could feel the movement of his lungs and chest as he breathed through sleep. I glanced at the alarm clock; I had only slept a few hours.
Gently, I retracted my hand from Harry's shirt. I slowly got off the bed and stretched. My muscles were tense from sleeping in a strange position. I pulled Harry's hoodie off me and tossed it back in the chair covering George Piper's interpretation of us. I walked over to the window and pulled the edge of the thick curtain back. The blackness of the room retreated as the beginning of morning sunlight spilled in. I watched in awe as the sun rose over Hong Kong. The sky changed from harlot red to marmalade orange to canary yellow.
"Love?"
I turned on my heel, letting the curtain fall back against the window. Harry was sitting up on his elbows watching me through squinted eyes. "You're awake," I said.
"I couldn't feel you beside me anymore."
I blushed, "Sorry. Just looking at the sunrise."
"How is it?"
"Beautiful," I breathed. "Unlike anything I've seen before."
"That pretty, huh?"
"Would you like to see it?" I grabbed the edge of the curtain prepared to show Harry.
"No," he waved his hand dismissively.
"Are you sure? You're really missing out. It's quite stunning."
"I'm used to missing beautiful things," he smiled weakly.
Me, I thought. He means me.
"How are you feeling?"
"Loads better," he nodded. "I guess getting everything...erm, out of my system helped."
"Yeah," I smiled. "Do you feel like eating anything? You should really get something in you."
"I could probably handle a little food."
"Good! I'll order something to be sent up here."
____________
Harry sat in bed eating plain toast and alternating between sipping water and orange juice. I could tell he was being careful. He would pause after every bite and see how he was feeling. I knew he didn't want to get sick again. Nausea medicine had been delivered up to the room for Harry to take when he finished eating.
While Harry ate, I busied myself with cleaning the room. I gathered all of the boots, skinny jeans, dress shirts, blazers, socks, and belts that had been strewn around the room and neatly packed them into Harry's suitcases. I collected the plates of stale food that had been left for him days ago and put them in the corridor for housekeeping to take away.
"Having a shower will really help you, Harry."
"Think so?" he said through a mouthful of toast.
"Absolutely. Do you think you're strong enough to stand to shower?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "I'll be fine."
Harry finished his food and went into the bathroom. I heard the sound of the shower running. While he was away, I took another look at the image George Piper had sketched of us. I could see us better now; through the seemingly senseless lines was a proper couple. Harry's dark hair and green eyes complimented the purple dress George had drawn me in. Two flesh colored lines protruded from the sides of each shape. He had drawn us holding hands. Just as I had the realization, a new sound came from the bathroom. It was quiet, sweet, and melodic. I instantly recognized Harry's voice. He was singing in the shower.
Harry's soft song was drowned out by the sound of my phone ringing. I found it vibrating against the bedside table. I slid my finger across the screen and held it up to my ear, "Hello?"
"Hi, love!" Liam's voice was lively over the phone.
"Hi, Liam," I smiled.
"How's our boy?"
"He's well. I've gotten him to eat something. He's actually in the shower now."
"You are a miracle worker, Kate. You've cured the tummy bug!"
I giggled, "I think I did."
"Really, thank you for coming out here. We wouldn't have called you if we didn't think it was absolutely necessary. Harry was so sick. Management was talking about cutting Hong Kong out of the tour and moving on to Australia. I overheard Henry tell Terrence he was thinking about sending Harry back to London for a bit."
"I'm happy to help. It sounds like I was doing more than just Harry a favor."
"You really were helping us all, but I know it means a lot to Harry."
"Yeah," I said quietly.
"Kate?"
"What?"
"Harry really loves you. He needs you."
The shower stopped. I heard Harry moving about the bathroom. "Harry's out of the shower. I should go."
"Just...promise you won't forget that."
"I won't," I whispered. I could feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes. My vision had gone blurry.
"Thanks again, Kate."
"You're welcome. See you soon, Liam."
I stood with my back to the bathroom door. I set my phone back on the bedside table. I dabbed the corners of my eyes with my fingers to clear the tears. I didn't want Harry to see me cry. I didn't want to explain why I was crying. I heard the click of the door as Harry walked into the main living area. I blinked a few times, took a deep breath, and turned around.
"You look much better," I gushed.
Harry stood sheepishly in the bathroom doorway. He wore a pair of joggers and a white t-shirt. Even though his hair was wet from the shower, his natural curl was beginning to show as it twisted at the ends. Harry's face had gained its color back. His cheeks were looking pinker and healthier. His eyes were brighter. His smile was wider. "I feel much better, to be honest."
"Good," I smiled.
"What's the matter, love?" Harry walked toward me. He smelled like coconut shampoo. He was staring into my eyes so intently and I knew he could read my emotion. I tried to look away, but he put one long finger under my chin and tilted it upward so I was forced to meet his gaze. "Is something bothering you?"
"No," I shook my head. His finger dropped away from me. "I'm just glad to see you feeling better."
Harry smiled a sweet, unconvinced smile. "And if that's not the case, you'll tell me?"
"Yes," I whispered.
"Good. Now then, I thought of something in the shower. I know you didn't choose to come to Hong Kong on your own accord. I'm willing to bet three of my mates did a little coercing. Am I wrong?"
I shook my head.
"Thought so. They probably told you I was sick."
I nodded.
"Right. So you probably came in a hurry."
I nodded.
"Please tell me you did not pay for your flight out here. I'm sure a last minute flight from London to Hong Kong was a small fortune."
I shook my head.
"So you didn't pay? Because if you or Eli did, I will pay you back. I don't want you spending your money on me."
"I didn't pay. Neither did Eli."
"Louis?"
I nodded.
"Should have known."
Why was talking to him suddenly so difficult? Was it because he was right in front of me? Was it because he was towering over me? Was it his intense eyes? His challenging smirk? His fingers twitching at his side, itching to touch me?
A tiny island of hope remained in my mind. For a second, I held back and considered telling Harry I wanted him. It would have been the truth. But then a tidal wave of anger, frustration, guilt, hurt, and stubbornness rose from the water and washed the tiny island away.
"Maybe we should talk?" I suggested.
"Yeah, we should talk." Harry sat on the bed with his back against the headboard. I sat sideways on the bed beside him and looked at his face. I could see his profile. The way his lips protruded in an ever-present pout made my heart twist in my chest. His long fingers knotting together on his lap had me reeling. His messy hair and casual outfit had him looking too cuddly for his own good.
"It's funny," I mumbled. "We give each other headaches, heartaches, and now stomachaches."
Harry snorted, "Haven't thought about that."
A smothering silence stretched between us. Words disintegrated in my mouth. The energy between us was corrosive; so much needed to be said but was too painful to say. I felt such a strong pressure that I wanted to scream.
Harry flashed a chaotic, out of place grin, "It's you."
"What's me?"
"It's you, Kate. It's always been you. You are my heart. You are my one and only. You are the love of my life."
The voltage of his words electrocuted me. I sat, stripped of my senses, staring into his devastatingly beautiful eyes. His presence was disarming, enslaving. I had to shake my head to keep from shouting, You are the love of my life, too!
"Why are you shaking your head?" he whispered.
"It's not me. It can't be me."
"I'm telling you it is. It has always been you."
"Stop," I rasped.
"I feel like there's only room in my heart for you," Harry admitted.
"There can't be."
"There is."
"Harry, it has been months."
"And I'm still not over you. I never will be. Can you truly say you're over me?
No. And I will never be over you. "You'll find someone else."
"I don't want someone else. I want you."
"What if you can't have me?"
"Then I will never be happy."
"You can't say that." I felt the hot burn in my throat as I tried to fight off tears. "You can't say you'll never be happy again."
"I meant what I said."
"Harry," I breathed. I let my head fall into my hands. This was becoming so much more difficult than I thought. "We just aren't..."
"We aren't what?" he pressed.
"We aren't the same. You are a superstar and I'm some girl who had her time with you. There will be more girls. You will meet someone else who is more like you. She'll probably sing or act or model. She'll be used to your lifestyle. She'll have her own fans. The newspapers and magazines will call you Hollywood's greatest couple. You'll be good together."
"Stop!" he said through gritted teeth. "Are you telling me this is about our difference in lifestyle? Haven't we had this conversation before? Love, I thought I made it clear that I want you. I love you for who you are, not what you are."
"We just are so different—too different."
"It was our disconnect that made us connect in the beginning."
"Times have changed," I said coldly.
"What?"
"I mean we had our time, Harry."
"You cannot honesty tell me the thrill is gone."
"No," I nearly smiled, "it's not, but the timing is all wrong."
"Timing?"
"Look, you are a creative person who needs space to think and develop and grow. It's in your nature to chase dreams and be spontaneous and independent. You need flexibility and I'm just getting in the way. You need that flexibility for your career, Harry. Henry, Terrence, and Laura were right: I'm a distraction. I make you focus on me, and not what you need to be focusing on. Now just isn't our time."
"We've had all of these conversations before, Kate." Harry was trying to be as calm as he could. "You're right about the type of person I am. I cannot change that. But you are wrong about being a distraction. You are my foundation! And what do you mean I shouldn't be focused on you? You are...were my girlfriend. A man is supposed to focus on and support and care for his girlfriend. He's supposed to make her a priority. That's all I was ever trying to do."
"And doing that ultimately hurt you. You asked for a break because our relationship was too much."
"That was a mistake! That was the biggest mistake of my life."
The things Harry said shook me to my very core. "I don't know any other way we can be together where you won't feel like I'm suffocating you."
"I don't feel like you're suffocating me. We worked before. We can work again!"
"We worked for a while. Some relationships are like that, Harry. They work until they don't, then both people move on."
"That is not how we are. We are not average people with a normal relationship."
"We are two people who don't have a relationship at all."
Harry's face looked genuinely hurt. I had to look away. I stared down at my hands folded tightly on my lap to keep from shaking. I peeked at the door; I wanted to escape through it.
"You're right. We are not in a relationship. But I still care for you."
"And I care for you," I whispered.
Harry let out a shaky sigh. His eyes pleaded with me. I was letting him go and he could feel it. His eyes grew glassy. His hands sorted through his damp hair desperately. I could see his mind turning over as he thought of something to convince me to change my mind. I wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder. I wanted to comfort him and tell him that he would be okay without me. For years, Harry had navigated life in my absence and he could do it again. I wanted to tell him that it was okay if he let me go. We were too complicated for our own good. I needed out.
"Harry," I sighed.
"Are you safe?" he sniffed. "Are you happy?"
I looked away to ignore the tears beginning their descent down his face. They were questions I had heard him ask countless times. He would use them on friends, family, but mostly fans. "Is that all you ever want for anyone?"
"That's all I ever want for you."
"Please don't make this harder than it has to be," I whimpered.
"I just want you to know that I disagree with you completely. I believe we belong together. You feed my creativity. You anchor me to reality. You have shown me love like I have never known it. I feel like a normal person with you. You give me purpose. I loved being your boyfriend. I loved loving you."
"I want to love you, but it's just not right. Maybe it's the wrong time for you and me," I said helplessly.
"I do not believe love is determined by fate."
"What?" I blinked.
"I do not believe that there is such thing as a right or wrong time to be in love. That's madness. When would there ever be a right time to be in love? No, I believe people make the decision to be in or out of love."
"Then I'm deciding."
I stood up from the bed and gathered my bag and phone. I walked to the door only to find that Harry had followed me. He was shamelessly crying now. His face was covered in red blotches. His lips quivered. His eyes were tear-soaked. As I grasped the door handle, Harry caught my waist. Slowly, he turned me around.
"Harry," I mumbled. Tears of my own were clouding my vision. I swallowed hard to choke down the sobs that were rising in my throat.
Harry leaned down and swept back my hair. He pressed his lips to the skin on my neck gently. I could feel tears slipping from his eyes and landing on my shoulder. He held his lips against me for a few seconds. My body leaned up flush against his.
"Run as fast and as far as you'd like, my love, but I will always be right behind you just in case you change your mind about us."