[amber’s pov]
Not a single sound escaped his lips. I watched how his busted lip had grown a deeper red in color. His frown still in place. Instead he elegantly pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning against and took a step towards the door, not meeting my gaze. His face carved in ancient cold stone that expressed nothing. An old mask which he had worn for so long. I didn’t know how to feel about him acting this way. I couldn’t be sure whether he was just deep in thoughts or purposely trying to lock me out. Could he really just let me out that easily?
With my heart in my throat I watched him from my seat till he eventually put a hand on the door handle - still with his back towards me. I watched his mess of brown hair whose feeling to my touch I knew so very well. His strong shoulders. The way he always leaned more to one side than the other. I didn’t dare to speak a word afraid of something. That he would tell me to stop whatever I was trying to do and let him be maybe? What was he thinking?
With his eyes still nailed on the door; his hoarse voice was suddenly heard. It didn’t come out as weak nor strong, not confident neither unsure. It was just a numb sound; a line of facts spoken out loud with no special interest nor disinterest; “maybe I don’t trust myself.”
Then he finally turned and looked back at me. I wasn’t sure what met his gaze as he watched me with those thoughtful eyes; someone he loved or someone he had already succeeded in excluding? I watched his bruised face with a heart that was falling apart though I wouldn’t acknowledge it. Half of my mind kept screaming that actions showed more than what words could ever tell; that he did love me, that he at least had loved me. The other half kept whispering questions as to why he hadn’t said it then? But it was stupid to think like this; this was all because of his prick of a father.
I wanted to wipe away the invisible tears that were falling in streams from his lack of warmth. From the fact that he was showing me the same facade like he did to all the others. He pushed the door open furiously and exited to my complete disbelief. He didn’t even look at me twice. He left me alone in the office while the echo from his steps resounded down the narrow hall.
I sat in complete shock - I wasn’t sure for how long. But suddenly some wild fury of angry flames was ignited in my chest; the green eyes had seemed so unfairly lost still. I felt my breath hitching. This couldn’t be right. The flames filled up every vein running from my heart as I watched him push the door open and walk away over and over in my mind. With each replay I only grew more frustrated. My eyes pressed tightly closed it felt like I was being suffocated by darkness. What was he doing? Why was he acting so stupid? Why was he so selfish? Why was he so proud and stubborn? Why did he let his father do this to him? It didn’t matter - none of it did.
I wasn’t sure how but suddenly a yell of anger escaped my lips as I pushed myself out of the chair and stormed out of the room. Stormed after him. My sight was blurry. The hallway was a big white mess I couldn’t see the details of. How dared he? He couldn’t do this to me. He had promised me to not fucking do something like this!
The fire was eating me up. Every frustration, every word, every touch, every fucking fluttering heartbeat for him. He couldn’t just throw it all away like this - I wouldn’t allow it.
I entered the lobby wiping my eyes angrily - glad I wasn’t wearing any make up today. My eyes found the receptionist as a sob vibrated through me. I clenched my teeth before I stormed across the fancy hall. The couple who had been seated in the sofa area was gone.
“Can I help you-” the woman stopped mid sentence and her smile fainted as she took in the view of my tormented face.
“Do you know where he is? Harry - Harry Styles?” My words came out in some weird mix of great affection and complete frustration as I stated his name. I was both so awfully pissed over his way of handling things but at the same time I wanted nothing else than to kiss every part of his skin and see him smile. Another wave of the salty water pressing their way into my sight. I wiped them away again.
The woman’s deep brown eyes suddenly grew soft - feather soft.
“He’s in the ceremonial hall, sweetie. That way,” she pointed to a door opposite to the one I had entered the room from. I nodded a single time hitching up in my bag. I felt every emotion running through me; frustration over Harry being so fucking stubborn and stupid about this, hurt that he wouldn’t let me in, heartbreaking sadness because I absolutely hated seeing him like this and the deepest most suffocating most horrible feeling of such deep love for him. I loved him so stupidly endlessly; and this was just all wrong - so wrong. This entire situation was nauseating and just outrageously wrong.
I knew why he acted like this towards me; and therefore I felt acidic fire of plain hatred towards Harry’s father and whoever else was doing this to him. It burnt in my chest and exceeded everything else. Or maybe that very poisonous emotion was just feeding from all the others.
For whatever reason I just knew Harry would have to tear me to fucking pieces himself before I would give up on what we had - as long as I could see he still felt the same way. No one was going to pressure him into letting go of something he didn’t want to; force the mask on him. He wouldn't have to push me away in order to 'protect me'.
I wiped my eyes with the sleeve again. My breath heavy. I stopped outside the wide double door which with golden letters had ‘ceremonial hall’ written in an elegant cursive writing. The letters were blurry. With my heart beating out of my chest, the blood rushing in my veins, the thoughts out shouting each other - I didn’t even hear the faint delicate melody which floated from the room I was about to enter.
[harry’s pov]
The colors floated together. The pale blue lake mixing with the dusty green treetops. The grey sky softly blowing its color into the most beautiful blend. Into the most breathtaking eye color that would watch me with shy stolen gazes. Gazes that would be accompanied by smiles that tore my world apart and put every piece back into even more perfect place. And I saw her again; she had found her way into my vision, into my mind. No matter what I tried to occupy my mind with she returned. Even from the childhood memories of those dull faint afternoons in the park - she was even there in the mix of the colors of the park. She was in every note I played. She was in every single one of my breaths. The touch of her soft skin under my fingertips felt so real and burning.
But I had forced myself to walk away. Forced myself not to go over and touch her skin or kiss her lips. And I tried desperately forcing her out of my mind again. I tried. I tried so hard I couldn’t keep up anything else. I imagined her leaving the hotel, waiting for me to call maybe. Maybe she imagined I just needed time. I tried not to think about how she would react when that call never came. I forced myself not to think of her. But all her little things; all her small details; all of her persona just kept floating in and were making me sink. I couldn’t stay afloat when she was the widest ocean and the only thing I could see. She was my everything - like I had told Aria.
“You get too attached Harry. That is your weakness. Learn to control it. Never let others know.” The words from my father floated through my mind as I played the melody that had echoed through our otherwise quiet house those stolen afternoons. When he would be out on business trips and couldn’t tell me what to practice on; what to learn. Tell me that Chopin or Beethoven or Debussy were more appropriate. I had found the sheet notes for this piece at the public library; Meredith had given me a sly grin and pretended she hadn’t noticed me slipping the sheet notes of Comptine d'un autre été into the stack of books we were about to lend. The melody from that French movie Amélie, which I had been allowed to see.
I had been a young boy with dreamy eyes - how could she tell me no? I had packed away the music notes in the same place I had hidden the cartoons she had given me; only occasionally bringing out the strange music sheets and with wide eyes watched the front page with the yellow letters and the deep contrast of green and red colors. Only rarely letting my eyes wander over the black pattern of music notes that held the sound of an adventure. And only on those days when I saw my chance - did I try to play it on our piano at home. The one in the livingroom where I had spent hours practicing. And with every faint note I played, I had prayed with all of my heart that he would return home and that none of the servants would tell on me. They had never done so.
One of the stolen smiles from one of the servants caused by the sight of the little boy by the piano playing the restricted melody, transformed into Amber’s smile. And yet again she had found her way back into my mind, though I had tried desperately to think of everything else to make things easier.
I gave up. It was impossible to keep her out when my fucking heart was beating for her. Who was I kidding? My father had been right - I did care too fucking much and it probably would end up fucking killing me. But I didn’t care to fight that any longer. Instead I gave up; I started letting the notes be all for her, be all about her, be everything I loved about her... Every pattern of sounds that my fingers created - it wasn’t any longer the melody from that Amélie movie, which I had started with. Instead my fingers were playing an entirely new tune; this was her melody and I only used all the good notes for her. I let myself sink to the deepest part of the ocean and I honestly didn’t care if I would drown down here or loose my mind. How could you go back to darkness when a star had blinded you for good? You simply couldn’t. You just couldn’t.
I didn’t realize anyone was entering the large ballroom too absorbed in the music and every single thought of her. Every single thought of what I was trying to give up on.
[amber’s pov]
It was some kind of ballroom. Fifty small round tables were placed all around the place. Closed for the night; only a few lamps in the other end of the room were lit besides the light at the little square platform with the music instruments.
He was seated at the pitch black grand pianoforte, the light illuminating the little performance stage was reflected in the beautiful piano. His jacket had been tossed merciless on the ground leaving him in nothing but black; black tight jeans and the black loose t-shirt. Next to his jacket lay a piece of paper; a letter maybe. He was playing the piano.
The melody floated in over me. His playing. His melody. It washed everything away. Everything but the deepest feeling inside of me; everything was gone except the love. Only love. Which was all for him. Only him.
I just stood there; shocked; stunned; exposed suddenly. I couldn’t read his mind; but I could hear his playing. The way his emotions were formed out through every note. And that was probably what shocked me the most. The fact that it was not a melody of anger or frustration; of hurt and betrayal and despair, which it maybe should have been. What shocked me the most and wiped away every inch of darkness inside of me was the fact, that the sounds were the most delicate and breakable ones I had ever heard in my life. So beautiful that it grew incredibly fragile and sensitive. Chills ran over my body. Covering every inch. I watched in awe at how he let his hands run elegantly over the keys like it was some kind of replacement for writing down his most beautiful thoughts. But these words, these sounds were like nothing else. He was somewhere completely else right now. His eyes didn’t see the room. Didn’t see the black and white keys. Didn’t take notice of me being here.
But whatever he was thinking of while playing this; wherever his lost mind was at this moment; he clearly cherished it more tenderly and warmly than anything else.
The room fell utterly silence as the last note died from under his touch. I didn’t move. I wasn’t sure my fucking heart was still beating. Surprised I lifted my hand to my cheek and brushed off the stupid, stupid tears. I watched him just sit there and for a moment just stare at nothing before his elbows hit the the keys making me jump from the high pitched sound of inharmonious notes that cut through the air. As if in extreme pain he forcefully placed his head in his hands and I witnessed how his shoulders kind of dropped; how his posture just dropped completely in defeat. How his fingers clenched by the roots of his hair.
Here in the silence and with the sight of him like that; the anger towards his father started boiling again with flames from the pit of hell. If his father had been in the room; I wasn’t sure if I had been able to stay in control and not simply throw myself at him. With soft steps I walked closer to the piano and Harry. My fists clenched as I watched him sit like that; completely broken and fallen apart. It hurt to watch. I lifted the shoulder bag over my head and carefully placed it next to Harry’s jacket, before taking the last step up on the stage.
I walked up behind him; I could see how his muscular back moved and stretched the black fabric of his shirt in rhythm with his breathing. I was pretty sure he had heard me. But he hadn’t flinched out of place, his arms were still tense. I slipped out of my jacket; the sound of it hitting the floor didn’t make him move either.
With a sigh I seated myself on the piano bench next to him. Curiously I placed my index finger on one key; the sound remaining in what seemed like forever. Carefully I placed my head on his shoulder. I could feel his heartbeat against my arm, which was pressed against his ribcage. He sat very still like a breathing statue on the verge of dissolving.
“I’m not going to let you go,” my words came out muffled and thick. We sat like that for a little while. I couldn’t see anything any longer; only when the tears finally broke and would run down my stupid cheeks.
The piercing sound of notes that echoed through the room as he suddenly lifted his elbows sent unpleasant electric thrills through me that made me flinch. His arms rested in his lap like they were no use, while his messy hair was falling into his face.
“You should,” his voice broke my heart. I felt the pieces scatter to the pit of my stomach at the thick raspy sound coming from him; he sounded so terribly lost.
“You really should get as far away from me as you can, Amber,” he peeked to the side to watch me. His dull green eyes were sparkling and clear from the tears they held; he didn’t even mind wiping them away or maybe he hadn’t noticed them. His cheekbones were haunted by a deep red color. The words were stuck in my throat but I still forced them out, “well I’m not. I’m not going to leave you and…and...” Why was the world so unfair to everything that was good?
[harry’s pov]
I probably could start telling her all sorts of deeply impolite things; point out her worst flaws and tell her things that would end it. That would make her leave me; make her leave me alone for good. I knew I had the talent to do so. She would get hurt - but it was still better than dragging her into my mess of a life.
How far was my father willing to go just to make me return? I flinched at the memory of what he had forced Aria to; choose between her own family or Daisy who hadn’t even been born at that time. And I knew he had done other things too… forced others in even more extreme ways. What if he had decided just to go after Amber from the very start instead of my job? What if Peter had found her one evening where I would be at work?
But the thing was; I couldn’t say anything bad about Amber - there was nothing to point out or to nag her with. The words were never going to leave my mouth; because I couldn’t do something like that to a girl - I couldn’t. I may have been raised by a monster but that didn’t mean I was one - right? And especially not to her. I couldn’t do it. But what if I suddenly just snapped at her? I cared too much about her - and my father would know if he didn’t already. That’s your weakness, Harry.
“But what can I do - I don’t even,” I turned my head to watch her. Surprised that the sight of her was so blurry. “How can I possibly protect you from him? How can I - how can I possibly - you don’t even realize what he is capable - what he’s done before!” I couldn’t form the words correctly as my voice grew in volume and without thinking it through I smashed my hand down on the keys. It surprised her and made her gasp.
We both listened as the sounds died into the dark room. “Then tell me, Harry - tell me everything from the beginning so I know what’s going on. Tell me the entire truth and not just broken parts,” her voice was steady and slightly confident, though probably easily defeated if I dared to try.
My eyes found hers; the sight was nothing like the mix of colors which I had seen in my memory. Her eyes were filled with tears. Caused by me. It stung.
A sigh escaped my lips and I closed my eyes again. It was useless to try and stay away; I reached my arm out and pulled her closer, feeling how she buried her head into the curve of my neck and shoulder and how her arms wrapped around my torso. I took another deep breath, as her scent of lavender was everywhere; it felt like I hadn't been able to breath properly till now. This wasn’t a good plan. But it felt so endlessly right to have her here still. This was so endlessly selfish of me and I was a coward for not having the guts to make sure she was safe. And yet I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect in the world than holding her like this.
“You’re crazy you know that?” I mumbled with a voice that was still unsure of how to feel about this. I wanted it so badly, but still I couldn't stop thinking of how wrong it was. I pulled her even closer because I felt my heart ordering me to do so. Because Peter's words about her sent chills down my spine. I leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheekbone; it was the most amazing thing to have her body this close to mine and feel her heart beating steadily. Frustratingly amazing. I wished it hadn’t been so addictive to be with her; so that I could have chosen to do the right thing instead. I wished my father hadn’t been right. I wished I didn’t get so attached to things; so attached to her. She was my weakness.
With a soft voice she mumbled; "crazy enough to ask you to play some more before we go home?"
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a/n: sorry for not updating in a while *sigh* yeah and it's probably going to be some time till next update too because I start my exams next week :( Buuuuut on the other hand I think this was like the longest chapter I've ever posted o.O so yeah hope you liked it ^^ I've posted a video in the sidebar with the melody, that Harry is playing at first before playing 'Amber's melody' xx ^^