Just play the song while reading, there's no specific time you need to play it.
Part two of the double update!
Enjoy, babes!
///
"Cherry. It's about me, isn't it?" I repeat and he glances to the ground.
"Emma. Every song I've written on that album is about you." He whispers, still looking at the ground.
I blink at him a few times, processing his words as everything hits me at once. It's like a fucking tidal wave of lyrics just crushed me.
And the coffee's out
At the Beachwood Café
Quick pause in conversation
She plays songs I've never heard
I couldn't want you any more
Kiss in the kitchen like it's a dance floor
Baby, you're the end of June
I want your belly and that summer feelin'
You sunshine, you temptress
My hand's at risk, I fold
And I'm still thinking back to
A time under the canyon moon
What am I now?
What if you're someone I just want around?
My eyes
Want you more than a melody
You've got my devotion
But man, I can hate you sometimes
And I'm well aware I write too many songs about you
Holy shit, I feel like Rapunzel in that one scene where she finds out she's the long lost princess.
I need to sit down.
I walk over to the couch, sitting down while staring at the wall in front of me with wide eyes and parted lips.
"Why?" Was the only thing I could get out, flicking my gaze up to him.
He looks stunned at my question, his lips parting as he blinks at me.
"I- what?" He asks, confused, still not daring to step closer to me.
"Why did you right songs about me? You were supposed to right songs about Camille, not me." I shake my head in denial.
It doesn't make sense. He just broke up with Camille. His whole album looks as though it was written about Camille, but it wasn't.
It was written about me.
"Because, you're the only thing that inspired me. I don't know." He shrugs.
"What do you mean you don't know!?" I snap, standing up from the couch as his eyes widen at my outburst.
"I-" He stops himself like he doesn't know how to reply.
"Harry, your whole album was suppose to be about Camille! You're telling me you don't know why you weren't inspired enough to write a song about your girlfriend that broke your heart!" I shout in disbelief, letting out a humorless chuckle.
"I don't know." He mumbles, looking to the floor ashamed.
"I don't understand you, Harry." I huff.
"What do you mean?" He furrows his eyebrows.
"One minute you're all happy with me and in the next you're leaving me in another country. Then you're all lovey-dovey with Camille and then completely shrugging off the fact she broke up with you. Then you're writing a bunch of songs about Camille and then you're telling me they were all about me! What the fuck, Harry!" I shout in annoyance, fisting my hair as I pace around the room.
"Emma, please. Calm down." He says softly.
"I can't calm down, Harry! I'm losing my fucking mind!" I groan, flopping face first into the couch.
"Let's just talk." He tries to offer, but I lift my head up to look at him.
"I don't want to talk right now. I just want to sleep and try to process this all before you hit me with something else crazy." I sigh, standing up from the couch while he looks at me with a torn look in his eyes.
"Okay." He simply nods.
"Thank you." I whisper, walking over to the bedroom.
I hear Harry follow behind me on the steps while we make our way upstairs to the bedroom.
"If you want me to sleep on the couch-"
"It's fine, Harry." I shake my head, climbing under the covers of the bed as he nods and does the same.
We lay there in silence, my back facing him. I want to say something to break this awkward silence. I know both of us are awake and the fact we're too worried to even touch each other makes my heart hurt.
"Why did you freak out and leave in Switzerland?" I ask, my voice just barely above a whisper.
"I thought you didn't want to talk." Harry murmurs.
"I change my mind." I reply, sitting up and turning to face him.
He leans on his elbows, looking over to me before releasing a sigh and laying back down.
"I was scared." He replies and I furrow my eyebrows.
"Of what?" I ask. I'm very lost here.
"When... when the paparazzi came everything felt too real. I realized that I shouldn't be doing this to you, or Camille, or anyone."
"Doing what?" I ask, still very confused by this.
"This. Bringing you into my life and just making a mess of everything, but then I realized no matter how hard I tried I couldn't keep you out of my life." He murmurs.
"Wait. So, you were worried about me being in your life because of the media?" I ask.
"Not just that." He replies.
"Then what else?"
"Because I also had feelings for you, Emma." He finally blurts out, sitting up on the bed and I just shut my mouth, staring at him with wide eyes.
"I had feelings for you when I was with Camille and I felt like the most fucked up person ever and I freaked out and bolted." He rushed out putting his head in his hands.
"I-" I stop myself, trying to figure out how to respond.
I always assumed he had some sort of feelings towards me now, but I had no idea he felt like this when he was dating Camille. That kind of explains a lot.
"The reason I put Camille's voice was to make it look like it was about Camille because I realized that I couldn't write songs about her because my feelings for her weren't as strong as my ones for you."
"How long?" I ask, my throat feeling dry and my hands clammy.
"What?" He looks up at me.
"How long have you... had feelings for me?" I ask.
"Ever since you asked to play with my hair."
-
"Can I play with your hair?" I asked. He smiled at me, blushing a bit.
"Wow, very straightforward. Sure." He shrugged.
"That feels nice." He sighed, closing his eyes as I ran my fingers through his hair.
"What is your secret." I whispered in awe.
"I use women's conditioner." He replied.
-
"Oh." I whisper in shock as Harry looks at me expectantly.
I don't know how to react to this. What exactly are... feelings. Does he love me? Does he just like me? Does he absolutely despise me, because having feelings is a very vague description.
"Harry.." I say cautiously, looking up at him as he stiffens.
"Yeah?" He breathes.
"Define... feelings." I ask, trying not to laugh at the fact I sound like Dwight Shrute.
Harry gulps and let's out a deep breath, running his hand through his hair as he looks towards the bed like looking at me is too much.
"Well, um... every time I see you I smile. Every time I hear your voice, wether you're singing or just talking, my heart beats faster. Every time you touch me or kiss me my stomach jumps. Every time you get excited about something and your eyes have that little twinkle in them I can't keep my eyes off of you. Every time you make a stupid joke or do something crazy I feel like I'm invincible, as long as it's with you. I just- everything you do makes me feel... happy. Completely and 100% happy."
Ok, Mr poet. Pop off.
Now how the hell do I top that..
"Harry-"
"I'm in love with you, Emma."
Hmm?
"I have been in love with you since the day we met."
Hmm?
"And I don't think I'll ever stop loving you."
HMM?
Fainting in 3...2...1
Peace out.
-
"Emma?" Harry says, shaking me awake.
I yawn, opening my eyes and blinking a few times.
"I just had the craziest dream-" My sentence dies down when I meet Harry's eyes and realize it was way to real to be a dream.
"It wasn't a dream, was it?" I whisper.
He just slowly shakes his head, looking at me with scared eyes like he doesn't know how I'll react and he's scared of it.
"This whole thing was a mistake. I should've just kept my mouth shut and-" Harry starts to rant, but I cut him off by grabbing his cheeks to face me.
He looks at me with wide eyes and I just bring his face down to mine, our lips meeting in a slow and simple kiss, that for some reason makes me feel like my lips are on fire.
"Harry." I breathe out once we part.
"Emma." He repeats, his forehead resting against mine while his eyes stay shut.
"I fucking hate you." I whisper against his lips and his eyes snap open.
"What?!" He exclaims, pulling away.
"I'm kidding." I laugh and his shoulders relax.
"Mostly.." I add and he turns to glare at me.
"Emma-"
"I love you." I cut him off and his lips part in shock.
He stands there for a few seconds before shuffling through his pant pockets and grabbing his phone.
He dials some numbers and I look at him confused as he just puts one finger up for me to wait.
Okay, not like I just confessed my love for you or anything.
"Hello?" I hear a voice on the other line.
"Ha! She said she loved me too! Take that, Mitchell!" He yells into the phone.
"Poor her." He deadpans and Harry huffs, hanging up.
I roll my lips into my mouth to hide my smile while Harry looks at me.
"Why are you smiling?" He asks, raising his eyebrows.
"Hmm? I'm not smiling." I shake my head, still trying to hide my smile.
"Oh, I think you are." He nods, an evil smirk appearing on his face.
"Nope. M'not." I shake my head furiously.
Harry pounces on me, tickling me as I laugh and try to push him away. He continues to tickle me until I surrender.
"Okay, okay." I breathe, putting my hands up in surrender.
Harry leans down to rest his forehead against mine, both of us staring at each other intently.
"Does this mean you'll be my girlfriend now?" He asks in whisper.
"Mm, no." I shake my head with a smile.
"What?" He whines like a child.
"Sorry, got to save myself for taytay." I shrug.
"Doesn't she have a restraining order on you?" He asks.
"Many couples make long distance work, Harry." I reply.
"Please, be my girlfriend?" He asks, giving me puppy dog eyes.
"Okay." I give in and he smiles, instantly attacking me in a bunch of kisses all over my face.
"Okay, okay." I laugh as he continues his kiss attack.
He pulls away with a dimply smile, looking the happiest I've ever seen him in my life.
"See I told you." Harry says and I purse my lips in confusion.
"Told me what?" I ask.
"We'll be alright."