A/N: 1.3K READS THAT IS INSAAAANEEEEEE thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you! Enjoy! I love reading all your comments as well they make me laugh and feel so warm knowing you're all enjoying this story as much as I am writing it.
Harry's POV
August 6th, 2016:
I wake up alone in the large bed to the sound of drizzling rain outside, the smell of her perfume on my pillowcase. I smile at the thought of last night. The way her body moved in reaction to my own. I stand and stretch, sculling what's left in the tall glass of water beside the bed. I go to the bathroom, scratching at my messy hair when I look up to the mirror. The words, 'You still feel like home' written in her signature cherry red lipstick, the same shade she wore on Christmas.
I smile and take a shower, cleaning last night off. I get out of the shower and look back at the mirror, smiling warmly, sure of the fact she's probably in the kitchen, or in her room packing her bags for her flight tonight. I throw on a fresh pair of black tracksuit pants and walk to her room shirtless, knocking on the door but it opens slowly revealing an empty room. No bags, no makeup, bed made, no charging chord at the power plug... No Tilly.
"Tilly?" I say aloud as I walk to the kitchen. She's not here either. Her shoes aren't even at the door.
No, surely, she wouldn't do that. She wouldn't leave without saying goodbye.
I walk to kitchen bench and find a note written in black ink, it's her handwriting.
'I'm sorry I had to leave. I suppose duty called... and I answered. I found out late last night that I'd be getting an earlier than expected flight before I came to your room. Thank you for an amazing week. Please, don't be scared to stop by my apartment when you're back from your writing trip. I'll miss you H. Love always, Matilda.'
I throw the note down and look to the glass doored cabinet and pull out a bottle of 2009 Knob Creek whisky and take a glass from the kitchen cabinet, moving to the lounge to take a drink. The feeling of not being able to say goodbye eats away at me. I can't believe I ever did this to her, I don't understand why she could do this... But as we both know all too well, when work calls we answer. I watch out over the city as I drink the whisky, downing it faster than what's recommended. I finish a few glasses, followed by the rest of the bottle and go to the bedroom and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My eyes feel heavy from the lack of sleep and alcohol. I close my eyes and allow myself to sleep, dreaming of the girl I continue to let slip away.
I awake with a huff and turn my head, looking at the clock on the bedside table which reads 12:01pm. Noon. I roll over and see my guitar, practically begging me to play her. I stand and get the guitar, hazy from the alcohol in my system.
I take my guitar and strum a few chords, shitty from the alcohol and hum along a melody similar to the chords I pick at.
*Play song now: From The Dining Table by Harry Styles*
"Woke up alone in this hotel room... played with myself, where were you?" I barely sing out, almost talking. Talking to her.
"Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon..." I sing a little lower.
"I've never felt less cool, Tilly." I speak out.
I think when I left her in the hotel room in London all those months ago and I feel the anger. I feel the hurt she must have felt, knowing I was leaving. I didn't understand why she was so upset that I left before she woke. I finally do and it's a painful feeling. I recount the months following as I continue to hum the chords and pick at the guitar strings with my nimble fingers.
"We haven't spoken since you went away... comfortable silence is so... is so... is so overrated." I sing out. The stubbornness she endured when I put her through what I did. All these years I ignored her, I let her go. I missed out on what could've been a lifetime of memories. I'm sure she's fine. Her letter says so, but why do I feel like this?
"Why won't you ever be the first one to break." I sing out.
"Even my phone misses your call... by the way." I remember the text I sent her and how it hurt her. I had no intention of doing so but I did. And I fucking hate when I hurt her. There's so much I want to tell her; but I can't. She's gone back to her life in L.A. with her movie star boyfriend. Is he her boyfriend? We never spoke of him. I've seen the articles and photos of them around L.A.
"I saw your... friend... you know from work. He said you feel just fine."
You look fine with him. More than fine.
I repeat the words, 'comfortable silence is so overrated' before following on with my thoughts and singing. I sing my emotions and let myself feel them physically. I never got to ask her who he is, who this James guy is. I never speak my mind clearly enough, not unless I'm singing.
"Why won't you ever say what you want to say?" I sing out.
"Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry too." I sing, building up as I repeat, the guitar becoming more passionate.
"Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry too." I sing finally. There's a lot of potential for this song. Its personal, its emotional. Its driven by love and heartache with a touch of jealousy. I sit the guitar down next to me, my fist curling around it as I sit slumped in the armchair, an empty whisky bottle at my feet as the rain comes down again.
"Fuck, Tilly." I say out loud and feel the tears form in my eyes, I try blinking away at them but the come too fast, rolling down my cheeks and I take a deep breath and exhale deeply through my mouth. I walk to my phone and pick it up, calling Jeffrey.
"What's going on mate? Everything ready for Jamaica next weekend?" He says cheerily as he answers the phone and I wipe at my eyes with my hand.
"I want to go earlier and stay for longer." I say softly and I hear him sigh.
"What's happened?" He says concerned but I don't want to talk about it.
"Ahh look, I understand everything's been booked with the bungalow, flights and shit but I wanna go earlier and I can get a hotel or something. I just wanna go." I say to him, hoping he'll understand. I hear him tap at his computer.
"I'll sort something out. When do you wanna fly out? Maybe halfway through the week? I'll see what Mitch is doing?" He says and I pinch my nose with my thumb and index finger.
"Jeffrey I wanna go out tonight." I say abruptly knowing he won't like the sound of it. There's a long pause and I feel myself lose hope in this quick decision.
"I'll get a private jet ready. Mitch can go out with you. The rest of us will come out in a day or so." He says and I stand up, feeling dizzy from the alcohol.
"Jeffrey?" I say.
"Yeah?" He says.
"Thank you." I say and I hear him ask if I'm okay. Truth be told, I'm not sure how I'm feeling. It's taken me years to realise I love her and she's gone again.
******
"What the fuck is up, Styles?" Mitch says as I get out of the car on the landing strip, pulling me into a hug and clapping his hand against my back, the sound making my ears ring. I smile at him and get onto the plane and he follows. I sit slumped in my chair, not taking my hoodie or sunnies off. I look out the window and think of her.
"Are you drunk?" He says resting his elbows on his knees as he looks at me and I ignore him.
"Holy shit." He says and I kick at his knee with my foot, telling him to shut up.
"Mitch don't..." I start at him.
"It's fucking 4pm!" He says throwing his hands up.
"Can you not fucking yell?" I say back to him, taking my glasses off revealing my puffy red eyes.
"What happened?" He says leaning back in his chair and I feel myself begin to get worked up again.
"I realised something. I realised that after seventeen years of friendship I'm in love with someone I can't have. I'm in love with someone who has the entire world to see and people to meet and she's going to do it all on her own because she's an incredibly strong woman with exceptional talent and I can't have her, Mitch." I say feeling tears begin to roll.
"Hey, shit happens, yeah? But she's not gone. You'll see her again and until then, you're with me for the next month and we're gonna swim in oceans like we've never seen, write a fucking incredible album together and make memories. Now, let's sober you up and make sure the next month is one worth remembering." He says, placing a hand on my knee and I look at him, watching the plane signal for our seatbelts.
"Mitch, Thank you." I say and smile at him.
He returns the smile and I take a deep breath, watching the drizzling rain out the window. I'm not afraid to do this alone. I did it all those years ago and we're at a good place now. I don't have to ignore her because I know I can reach out whenever I need too, whenever I want too. Mitch is right, we're about to write a kickass album.
A/N: So what do we think?? Thank you for reading, voting and commenting it means the world! Lots and lots of hugs sending them your way!