A/N: This is the continuation of the action from 8.13 (posted the other day, in case you didn't receive a notification). This part has a trigger warning for something that could be sensitive for some... I won't call it out here to avoid any spoilers, but I've dropped some hints so you should get a heads up if it's problematic for you. Or feel free to message me if you want any more info... Xx
25th August 2017 (continued)
They're both still reeling from their unexpected early morning spat, but the silent treatment wasn't strictly intentional.
Eloise simmers down a bit whilst in the make-up chair. Taking a long hard look at yourself in the mirror under harsh fluorescent lighting at 7am in the morning is certainly one way to give yourself a bit of a talking to.
With the red mist abated, she can actually take a minute to stop and think and reason it out.
Shit, is this what Harry's been seeing when he looks at her lately? Frazzled, stressed and on edge; shoulders hunched defensively. An exhaustion so deep, poor Lucy's already had to apply a third layer of under-eye concealer.
If anyone knows about crazy schedules, the weight of heavy expectations and an immense pressure to succeed, it's Harry. She knows she's her own toughest critic - something else they share in common - but feeling like everyone wants a piece of you and scrutinises your every move? He's lived that every day since he was sixteen.
If anyone can understand how she's been feeling, it would be him. God, she's so lucky to have him.
And really, how much time has she had for him recently?
That he gets jealous is nothing new. That he snaps and says more than he means when he's stressed or worried or anxious? Well, that's not a trait of his alone, she'll concede.
What on earth was she playing at? Pushing his buttons and riling him up and invalidating what he's been feeling? She went too far, and she knows it.
But, man, is she tired though. And on edge from three weeks now of tiptoeing around him, sensitive to the mood she knows he's been trying to keep a lid on. But she gets it; she's nervous about long distance again too. All the more so when they'll both be under such pressure.
With a deep breath, she resolves to start making it up to him.
As a peace offering, she snaps her wardrobe selfie on the way out to set - keen to hear his thoughts on the brunette wig - but an urgent script question has her distracted before she can hit send.
The rest of the day is just as manic.
>
Harry has been distracted as well; a little too riled to settle down for their last full day of rehearsals.
They're sounding great, and know all the tracks and the details of the show inside out and back to front already. There are still details to be refined in California ahead of the first show, but, for now, they're as prepared as they can be, so they blow off some steam instead.
Goofing around, they stumble across a melody that stirs something in Harry, and he promptly falls into a black hole with Mitch and Tom.
>
A good few hours later and they have a new track roughly laid down. Perhaps a fun little something they can polish quickly and debut on tour.
Fucking 'El. Geddit? Yeah okay, he wouldn't dare... It's just working title; he'll settle on a replacement name soon enough.
Eloise simply has no idea what she does to him. Of course he's jealous. Of course he's apprehensive about the distance. Of course he'd lashed out like an arsehole. Worryingly true to form.
>
Shocked when director Harry's First Assistant calls "Wrap" for the day, Eloise can't believe it's almost 5pm already.
Contending with rush hour and wanting some time to speak with Harry properly, she won't have long to get ready before they need to head out again for Liam's early birthday drinks tonight.
He'd ordinarily be partying it up at his beloved Funky Buddha, but fatherhood might have already calmed him down a bit as he'd decided on Shoreditch House instead.
Back in her trailer, checking her phone, she feels a flash of indignation that Harry hasn't been in touch. Her hackles rise all too quickly again.
Well, fuck it and fuck him! If he's so intent on stewing a little longer, she'll bloody let him. She will go tonight, but she won't reach out to let him know, and will just see him there, presumably.
Rummaging through a chair piled with clothes in the corner, she finds a dress and decides to head straight to her old flat to get ready with Malin instead.
>
Surprised that she isn't back already when he arrives home, Harry checks his phone and realises he hasn't heard from her.
Hmm, that'll be her legendary stubborn streak in action.
Oh well, he shakes it off. He's been working like a demon, so may as well blow off some steam and catch-up with the boys before he flies back to California and then heads out on tour.
Tom has plans of his own with some old mates. Mitch blows it off, keen for a quiet night in alone to decompress. Jeff already headed back to LA last weekend.
He figures she won't go and hopes the extra few hours will help her cool off before he has to face her. Maybe Mitch can do him a solid and help talk her down for him?
>
Keeping his head bowed on his way back to the main bar from the toilets, Harry sings the new lyrics from this afternoon under his breath. "I don't know what I'd tell you, if you asked me for the truth". He can't get them out of his head, which he always takes to be a good sign.
As he looks up quickly to orient himself towards their back corner, he stops in his tracks, surprised to see her - from behind, but he'd recognise her anywhere, from any angle. Hanging back surreptitiously, he tries to suss out her mood.
Seeing her laugh freely with Liam and Niall - Louis is out in LA - only makes him feel more wretched that it's evidently just him pulling her down. He can't help but move on to the chorus. "I don't want your sympathy / But you don't know what you do to me / Oh, Baby".
With a deep breath, he heads tentatively back towards them and can't help but eye her legs appreciatively in her flippy red floral wrap minidress. They're lengthened further by her Swedish Hasbeen's heeled tan clog sandals, and he's big enough to admit the training is evidently paying off. She's in incredible shape already; lean, toned and tanned.
George Michael's Faith is playing and he can't help but smile wryly as he sings that under his breath too. "Well I guess it would be nice / If I could touch your body". He tails off with a groan as he catches an inviting glimpse of her cleavage as she turns and laughs at something Niall said, playfully swatting him.
She must catch him in her peripheral vision as she turns, because he spots the moment she stills and her whole demeanour shifts.
Taking a steady sip from her champagne flute, she locks eyes with him. Her expression, for once, is fairly unreadable; or maybe he just doesn't want to read what it's telling him?
This is ridiculous. Their time's ticking and they're both here, but, fucking hell, they can both be stubborn. Who will break first?
As he schools his features, he thinks, hopes, he spots a minuscule quirk of her lips before she leans across Niall to leave her glass on the bar and whisper in Malin's ear, then promptly spins on her heel and struts off, away from them, away from him. Maybe not then.
Blowing out a deep breath as he looks dejectedly after her, he heads towards the bar, hoping they can clue him in on what he has to contend with.
Having to explain arriving alone, he'd already offloaded to Niall and Liam about their spat, but skimmed over the juicier details.
"Don't even!", Niall sasses. "I said I'm not getting in the middle of whatever nonsense is going on between you both... You need to pull your heads out your arses! It's Liam's night; come on, try and enjoy it".
Harry's attention falters when, squinting across the crowded bar, he's surprised to see her hugging Suki at a booth on the other side of the dance floor.
Malin's a little more sympathetic. "She promised her she'd say 'Hi' when we saw her outside. She'll be back; she's just feeling a bit awkward, I think, and doesn't want to risk distracting you from your last night with the boys. You know she hates any fuss or causing a scene, ever".
>
Feeling antsy at the thought of public tension with Harry, Eloise had panicked and cowardly dashed off to catch-up with Suki, who she'd bumped into briefly on her way in just now.
Seeing her approach, Suki cheekily waggles a bottle of champagne to summon her over. Practically skipping towards her in relief, it's not like she needed much incentive.
She's already pretty tipsy and being rowdy and a little obnoxious, crowing about how Eloise is the star of their new movie, showing off a bit in front of her younger sister, Immy, and some male friends.
Eloise tries shushing her, getting embarrassed and hating the attention.
A glimpse of the outline of Harry's back from across the bar has her regretting her choice already.
Noticing her distraction and discomfort, Suki pours them a glass of champagne each and swiftly drags her upstairs to the quieter rooftop for company whilst she has a cigarette, encouraging her to vent and offload about whatever's got her worked up.
>
When they head back down a good while later, Immy's snogging one of the guys, so Suki plucks the champagne bottle from her clutches and tops them up before spinning on her heel and dragging Eloise on to the dance floor.
"Make Harry come to his senses", she whispers in her ear with a cheeky glint in her eye. "Make him fucking drool. Remind him what he'd stand to lose".
Laughing her off, Eloise just focuses on enjoying the music instead as the heavy beat reverberates through her body.
>
It's hot and sweaty and noisy as hell, so Eloise had blocked it all out and been in her own world, happy to get lost in the music.
It takes her a while to realise Suki hasn't returned with the topped up glasses she'd promised, having downed the remains of both and promptly swanned off.
She'd laugh at the irony of the Shake it Off remix playing, but worries she could cry if she dwells on it too much.
A shot of tequila sounds more appealing than more champagne anyway. How many has she had? She's feeling the effects a bit already. Must be the bubbles. Has she had anything to eat since lunch? She can't quite remember.
Swatting at grabby hands as she squeezes through to make it to the edge of the crowded dance floor, she can't help but crane her neck to see Harry has shifted. His profile is to her now, rather than his back. As he talks to Liam in their quieter corner, can see his slumped shoulders and downtrodden expression from here.
What the fuck is she playing at? Again?! She needs to get her ego in check and meet him halfway.
Yes, she's a bit hurt at him not rebutting some of the things she'd levelled at him this morning, but, ultimately, she's worried at the prospect of long distance again, just like him.
She's being a terrible wing-woman for Malin too.
And she needs a wee.
And, fucking hell, when did it get so hot and loud in here, she wonders, looking around with a grimace.
Looking determinedly back across the bar, she's surprised to look up and catch Harry's eye for a split second. With a double take, she realises he looks softer; resigned and regretful, offering her a tentative smile.
She offers a small, soft grin in return, then cranes back around to signal to Suki.
But what she sees has her doing another, even more dramatic double-take, cricking her damn neck again in the process.
Holding her index finger in the air to gesture 'one minute' to Harry, she promptly spins on her heel and rushes towards Suki, who's looking a little frantic, kneeling half over a drunkenly slumped Immy in the booth, exchanging heated words with one of their male friends.
As she gets closer, she realises Immy appears to be passed out and Suki's looking pretty dishevelled too, with her hair in disarray and her lipstick smudged.
"Sukes?", she calls out, tentatively heading towards her until she stumbles on the step in her heels and crashes a hip into the booth to catch herself. Oof, ouch. Smooth.
Craning over her shoulder to look, Suki slumps in relief. "Thank God, El...", she sighs. "Can you help me?". Spinning back around, she snaps at the guy nearest her sister and shoves his hand off her. "Stop touching her!".
Hauling herself up shakily, she rambles frantically to Eloise as she fusses over her sister. "Shit, we need to get out of here. Are you okay?".
Eloise reaches out to grab her arm, trying to hold her attention. "Are you okay? Suki, look at me... What's going on?".
But she's looking the other way again. "I said don't touch her!", Suki snaps. "What did you slip her, you prick?". She reaches over from where she leans over Immy to shove at his chest. "Who the fuck even are you guys?".
Wait, what? Trying to reach around her to check on Immy for herself, Eloise jumps when she feels a hand at her elbow and cranes around.
It's her cousin. "Oh, thank God!", she looks back to Suki, who's getting increasingly worked up. "Umm, Malin, can you go and get Harry for me? Niall or Liam too? Anyone, quick!".
"Sukes! Hey, come on... Shhh, quieten down, alright?", Eloise tries to get her to focus. "Let's just get her out of here".
"It's not okay! He was fucking pawing at her whilst she was out of it". She's really starting to slur now.
"She was all over me!". Goading her, he leans forward with an unsettling smirk. "Are you okay? You're acting a little weird... Are you feeling a little weird?".
What the fuck? Even his mates start looking around awkwardly.
Suki evidently feels the same. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?", she barks, scowling as it dawns on her. "Oh, my God, what did you do? You fucking creep! What did you do?!".
Picking up the champagne bottle, for a second Eloise is worried she's going to swing it at him, but she just waggles it in front of her sloppily, as if she's surprised at how heavy it is. "What's in it? What did you do?", she shouts.
The arsehole smirks as Suki shoves him weakly again. "You tell me? Feeling fuzzy, sleepy, trippy?".
As Eloise sits back in shock, gaping at him, Suki recoils away and shoves past her to pace wildly in front of the booth, staggering as she does.
"Shit, Suki, how much did you have?", Eloise hisses, trying in vain to get her attention whilst reaching shakily for Immy's wrist and fumbling as she tries to pat her cheeks to rouse her.
'Stop fucking panicking, cool it', she chastises herself, 'Focus'.
"El...?", she hears lowly from behind her and could weep in relief. Whirling around, she sees Harry, with Niall and Malin too, all looking around in confusion.
Harry has a hand on Suki's elbow, steadying her as he takes in the state of her in shock.
"El, what-?", he falters when he clocks Immy below her.
"Oh, thank God...", she slumps in her seat in relief. Shit, when did she start slurring? And why are her ears ringing?
"What's going on?", he hands off Suki to Niall and steps closer to Eloise in concern.
Arsehole guy jumps up, "Back off, she's ours", he growls.
"I don't fucking think so", Harry barks furiously before turning back to Eloise, reaching for her arm. "El, did they take something? Are you okay, baby?".
"I think it must have been in the champagne. I didn't know. Shit, I'm sorry... I'm so sorry", she babbles, welling up.
"It's alright, it's okay... I've got you", he pulls her into his arms and drops a kiss to her temple, not caring who's watching. Just needing her touch to ground him whilst he tries to figure out a plan.
The distraught, panicky look on her face has him rounding back to the guys. "You fucking spiked it?", he growls before craning to look over his shoulder and calling loudly. "Malin, can you get someone from the staff over here please? We need security, right now".
He's veering between sweet and gentle with her and furious at him, demanding to know exactly what it was. "'Just a fucking Roofie or something?'", he roars.
As the guys around the table hastily start getting up to make a quick exit, too focused on Eloise, he quite can't bring himself to care. If security doesn't get them on the way out, they can identify the member from the CCTV footage.
He tries holding on to a stumbling Eloise whilst leaning over to check Immy, but steps quickly back when she gets in the way of Niall trying to wrangle Suki, and tries in vain to position them to block the view from the people in the neighbouring booths starting to look on with interest.
Malin soon arrives back with a couple of members of staff and a bouncer in tow. Swiftly ushering them towards a room behind the bar, they've already called an ambulance.
Harry hands Eloise off to Malin to pick up Immy, whilst Niall supports most of Suki's weight. She's babbling about how they "Can't get papped like this. Reese will kick our arses".
>
The staff and paramedics seem suspicious until Harry explains what the guy said.
"Okay, who's with who?", one paramedic asks.
"She's with me", he points at Eloise. "That's her friend, Suki, and I'm guessing that must be her sister".
They check their vitals and take some blood. They're all about the same size, so, judging by the state they're in, it's obvious Immy had the most, then Suki, with Eloise faring best.
"They're all pretty slight, so it won't have taken much", the paramedic explains.
When Harry nudges her to ask how much she had, Eloise mumbles from where her head lolls agains his chest, "Just a glass, maybe one and a half". Disorientated and a little uncoordinated, keeping her eyes firmly shut against the harsh light isn't helping her try to stay awake.
Immy needs to go to hospital, and they want to check Suki out too. "Probably Rohypnol... Could be GHB...", one of the paramedics wagers.
"GHB?", Harry panics, cradling the back of Eloise's head protectively.
"Can she normally hold her drink okay?", he crouches down to check her over again.
"Yeah, pretty well, given her size... But she'd never be like this on just a couple of glasses of champagne".
"She's fighting it pretty well... You can take her home", he decides. "Keep a close eye on her and try to keep her hydrated. She won't remember this when she wakes up and might get a bit panicky. But if any other symptoms develop or worsen, take her straight to hospital".
He gulps, eyeing a worried Malin as he pulls out his phone to call his driver.
"I'll look after her, don't worry", he reassures her. "Greg, mate, are you still close? ...Can you head round the back to the basement door please? I'll be there in five".
Seeing the paramedics prep seated stretchers for Suki and Immy, Niall asks if they're parked near.
"We're right out front. We'll have to use the lift with these".
"Could you maybe pop a blanket over her head to protect her privacy?", Harry suggests thoughtfully. "She could do without the press getting wind of this".
Pocketing his phone, he gently straightens Eloise up so he can stand. "Baby, can you walk?", he eyes her heels skeptically.
Dizzy, her head lolls a bit as she struggles to focus on him with hazy, slowly blinking eyes. Well, that's not terribly hopeful.
"Need a hand, H?", Niall offers.
He hoists her up easily into his arms, but her head lolls back. "I've got her, thanks, mate. Can you just tuck head under my chin?", he twists to face him. "And maybe come and give me a hand with the doors? Mitch is at the house; he can help at the other end".
"Am I flashing her underwear?". He twists again to let Malin check and she steps up to tuck her dress under his forearm. "Thanks. I'll get her to call you in the morning, okay? Can you explain and say bye to Liam for us?".
With that, they're led to the staff-only staircase off the back of the bar's scullery pass.
Harry hefts Eloise in his arms again as he steps briskly down the corridor behind Niall, cradling her tightly to his chest and cooing words of reassurance whilst keeping an eye on her long legs around door frames and bannisters.
>
>
26th August 2017
Harry watches Eloise like a hawk.
Feeling nauseous passed soon enough, but the headache will take a while to ease off. It's not like a normal hangover; less sharp, it's duller but more discombobulating. A sense not helped by that gaping black hole in her memory.
She remembers them first getting on to the dance floor, but then it becomes increasingly patchy. Then she can recall the sense of panic at seeing Immy collapsed in the booth, and, through the haze, that flooding sense of relief when she'd turned to see Harry. Finally, she remembers only very fleeting snatches with the paramedics, but then nothing.
She can't remember leaving or getting home or going to bed. She knows Harry was looking after her and trusts him implicitly, but the whole ordeal still feels fucking terrifying.
They spend all morning in bed with the blinds down and the lights off, trying to lessen her headache; just snoozing, cuddling and talking quietly.
Calmly, honestly, apologetically.
About how scary last night was and how worryingly easy it can happen. She vows to be more careful.
About how relieved she had been to see his face. She's not sure how she'd have felt in that state if it was anyone else. Her knight in shining armour.
He'll always try to be, but, God, he wishes he'd never need to be. Seeing her with a paramedic again brought back some all too fresh memories.
That, and last night, puts their silly spat yesterday morning firmly into perspective.
He admits he'd been sick last night; running to the toilet just in time, after getting her changed and tucking her into bed. Horrified, at the close shave. Feeling wretched, having just had to get her undressed and wrangle her into one of his t-shirts, totally out of it and entirely unaware, let alone able to consent. With regret, at that stupid argument and a day wasted.
He didn't think she'd show up last night; figuring she'd be stubborn and dig her heels in.
"I wanted to see you", she reassures him. "I just panicked a bit when I then did, and took the cowardly option, heading over to Suki. Sorry" she grimaces. "That was a dick move in front of your friends... And, in hindsight, a terrible decision".
"They're your friends too", he smiles softly at her. "And they already know I can be a jealous prick".
He'd been so relieved and hopeful when he saw her face soften from across the bar. But when Malin then dashed over, calling for his help, he'd felt sheer panic.
Feeling reassured that she seems to be okay, he doesn't take much convincing to snatch some sleep. He hadn't slept a wink all night; instead keeping a close eye on her and wanting to ensure he was awake to reassure her in case she woke up confused or disorientated.
>
Approaching noon, Eloise wakes to Harry's quietly ringing phone whilst he's still asleep.
Grappling for it in the strewn bed sheet to see it's Niall, she answers quietly and fills him in.
When Harry stirs to her low whispering, snuggling close and dropping a kiss to her clothed shoulder, she insists they should head downstairs to hang out with Mitch, not wanting to be rude on his last few days with them.
>
Finding her bag on the kitchen island, where Harry had dropped it after staggering in with her a dead weight in his arms, she isn't surprised to see a string of notifications and missed calls, including messages from Malin, Niall, Liam. And a bunch of hugely apologetic ones from Suki.
She calls her back as Harry potters around the kitchen, making tea and toast, then popping into the living room to check on Mitch.
Suki's just home and admits she almost shat herself waking up in hospital and seeing Immy unconscious in a bed, with no idea how they got there.
Liam thoughtfully reassured her that Shoreditch House checked for photos and footage from other patrons after they left. It figures; the last thing they would want is for a story to leak about a drugs offence or for any unauthorised photos to cause upset or damage the reputations of any of their well-known members.
She hastily pulls up Google, but, thankfully, no reference to last night comes up under her, Suki, Harry, Niall or Liam's names.
"Phew", she says sitting down cross legged next to Harry on the sofa. "Looks like there's nothing in the press. And thank God... Dealing with Reese with this headache would not have been fun".
Mitch throws himself at her, hugging his arms tightly around her waist, with his head resting on her thigh.
Harry snuggles into her other side after reaching forward to snag the remote control off the coffee table, pulling up Netflix as they all settle down.
>
>
28th August 2017
After another quiet day on Sunday, she'd cancelled her training session the next morning, so enjoys a relative lie in compared to her recent alarm calls.
Harry accompanies her to set again. She only has a couple of scenes today, but she knows he's keen to keep a close eye on her after Friday night, and make the most of one of his last chances to see her in action as Villanelle, before his busy week ahead.
Keeping his cap and sunglasses on, he tries to stay low-key - to varying degrees of success. But the crew are evidently quick to cotton on to 'bring your famous boyfriend to work' day.
However, when they're rehearsing and then the cameras rolling, all eyes are firmly on Eloise anyway. He soon relaxes, settling into a canvas director's chair at the back of the gazebo tent. Watching her performance eagerly on the monitors, he's awed as she slips flawlessly between comic timing and maniacal violence as she brings Villanelle to life, the Russian accent slipping effortlessly from her talented mouth.
Despite their heart to heart on Saturday morning, he'd not revealed that feeling of ill-ease at her rising star or his worries about needing to fight for her attention, but they were back, and had been at a low simmer all morning.
However, seeing the moony smiles of the crew watching her from behind the camera as she brings a character from her own imagination to life so convincingly, it's replaced with all-consuming pride. She's incredible. And she's his.
One of the episodes they're shooting scenes for this morning is titled, 'Sorry Baby'. It's a fitting reminder each time the clapperboard appears on the monitor at the beginning of each take.
Seeing her head thrown back, laughing gleefully as they call cut, right then and there, he resolves not to waste another minute worrying about that when he should just be proud of her success and lapping it up.
>
Sod's law, Harry's still hanging around that afternoon when a stunt goes wrong.
Cutting between the monitor and looking up past the camera, he eyes Toby wearily as he talks the male actor playing a prison guard through the fight choreography. With his hands all over Eloise as he demonstrates the holds, looking over at the extra, he doesn't seem to notice her uncomfortable grimacing. Harry definitely does.
When he takes Toby's place, the actor seems distracted by Eloise, nervous and hesitant.
On the first rehearsal take, he totally fluffs it, turning them the wrong way from camera.
"Nope! We need to end up on her to segue into the next shot", director Harry calls, frustrated.
They go again, and it's even worse. Overlooking a step in the choreography, he takes Eloise by surprise and goes too hard. He ends up misstepping, and his grip on her jaw slips, only to slam his palm in an uppercut into her face. She smacks her head into the wall at the impact.
After a split second of stunned silence, there's a commotion.
The panic-stricken actor jumps back, begging apologies, as Toby, director Harry and a producer surge towards Eloise, where she's stumbling away from the wall, bent double, with one hand on her face and one to the back of her head. She's a little shaky as they crowd her, dropping out of Harry's sight.
When he's on his feet and free of the tangled headphones, he hears a concerning shout."Oh shit! Someone call a medic, now".
Rushing forward, Harry barges past the male actor, still standing awkwardly by the camera, but gets to Eloise just in time to see her shrugging off Toby as he runs a hand down her arm.
"What the fuck?", she demands, pissed off. It's his job to train everyone on the stunts and ensure they're all safe.
It draws Harry's attention to the state of her; eyes narrowed in a wince, blood gushing from both nostrils.
"How did that happen?", she insists flatly. As she speaks, a spray of blood spews dramatically from her mouth.
On instinct, the producer angles her forward, trying to avoid getting blood on her costume - just an unflattering boiler suit and headscarf combo. Eloise shoots her an unimpressed look, grunting at the sudden movement and pull of her hand against her head.
"Oh, leave off!", director Harry chastises. "El, please tell me it's not your teeth? How hard did you hit your head? Shit, where's that medic?", he panics.
More composed, her Harry steps closer and takes her elbow gently, sceptical that the others have her best interests at heart - probably more concerned with excuses, wardrobe, or the schedule.
Her eyes well up as she looks at him. "Shit, baby", he coos, prising her bloody hand away and holding the wad of tissues he'd grabbed gently up to her nose and dabbing blood from her mouth.
"Open your mouth", he nudges.
She arches an eyebrow and shoots him a look.
"Stop it!", he warns with a quiet laugh, manipulating her jaw gently. "Teeth look okay, lips too... It's only her nose, I reckon", he explains.
Pulling her towards his shoulder, uncaring of his light grey jumper, he peers around the back of her head, feeling through her hair at the crown of her head with gently probing fingers. There's no more blood.
Tugging again at her elbow, he wraps his other arm around her shoulder comfortingly. "We'll wait for the medic in her trailer, alright?", he tells director Harry before steering her safely away.
>
Pulling her on to his lap on the little sofa in her trailer, he passes her the box of tissues.
She raises her eyebrow at him, baitingly, but he just lifts his hands in surrender. "I'm not saying a word", he says only a tiny bit smugly.
"You don't need to", she relents, dropping her head to his shoulder with a groan. "That was definitely Toby's third strike".
"Fucking hell!", he recoils with a whine, "If number two was Friday morning, please don't fill me in on strike one. I've heard and seen quite enough".
The medic arrives shortly after and confirms her nose is bruised and a bit swollen but doesn't appear broken. She could end up with a couple of black eyes.
"Oh well, that will save a bit of time roughing me up in the make-up trailer tomorrow morning", she jokes, to Harry's dismay. He rolls his eyes at her so hard he almost gives himself a headache.
An ice pack and instructions to rest saw to hers - and the resulting egg forming at the back of her head.
After the medic packs up his kit and leaves her trailer, Harry pulls her back on his lap.
"Fucking hell, I'm going to need to wrap you in cotton wool and bubblewrap when I leave, aren't I?", he chastises lowly. "Just promise me one thing? No more paramedics or hospitals, okay? You've had more than your fill recently".
>
>
2nd September 2017
Eloise didn't quite manage to uphold her end of that deal.
Harry had an eventful week. He headed back home on Tuesday to shoot Harry Styles: Live at the BBC with Nick in Manchester for a couple of days - filming musical performances, throwing axes, eating fish and chips, playing bingo at a care home. Classic irreverent Nick fare. He'd also filmed some interviews with international journalists and music channels too.
After snatching as much quality time with his mum and family as he could manage to squeeze in, he'd returned to London on Friday morning.
Eager to see him, Eloise heads home after wrapping early, just after lunch.
She then ferries him to a private practice on Harley Street for a little operation on a tricksy tendon in his right wrist. It's been a recurring complaint over the years, but had been exacerbated by their heavy rehearsal schedule of late.
He accepted this was his last chance to get it sorted, with just about enough time to recover before the tour kicks off in San Francisco in a few weeks. He's worked too hard not to be playing guitar on opening night.
In and out in just a few hours, later she cheekily posts a snap of his bandage to her private Instagram account, lewdly implying he'd done the damage wanking too much.
"Bit close to the bone, baby", he winces when he spots it. "What with your schedule and the tour looming...".
He wasn't the first to comment that, he realises, scrolling down, sighing to see all his mates having a whale of a time roasting him in the comments.
"Ha! 'Bone'...", she snorts a laugh, plucking his phone out his dominant hand and dropping it into his left with a pointed look.
>
They have a fun, silly, relaxed evening, pootling around the house as he packs - ready for his flight back to LA with Mitch and the rest of the band in the morning.
They're putting a brave face on it, but already bracing themselves for another goodbye in the morning.
Finally sorted, with his bags lined up by the bedroom door, her hooks an arm around her waist and tosses her on to the bed, intent on creating some fond memories to tide them over for the next few weeks.
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A/N: A long chapter, but that finally concludes part eight... He's off on tour next, hurrah! I'm usually a terrible procrastinator, so never thought starting this that I'd have the discipline to make it so far down the timeline, to be honest... But I'm glad I've persevered - two big story arcs I've had plotted out since the beginning are coming up... Exciting times ahead for these two! Xx