Primrose's pov
The last three months have been manic - filled with distractions that unknowingly carried me effortlessly to the day I've been dreaming of.
Today, I get to see Harry again.
Ever since the summer months rolled around, tourism has been heaving into town. Angel and I have been working round the clock, day and night, enjoying the heat and celebrating the income bought by customers. In honesty, given how busy both Harry and I have been, we haven't spoken much. When we do speak, it's beautiful, and happy, and blissful,l and perfect...
but I can't help but feel bad at how easy this has been.
I've been distracted, and, I let him slip my mind. Worse, I've been to nervous to ask if I slipped his. It worries me that he's been sad and hurting, wanting to speak to me daily and see me more than anything whilst I've essentially neglected our relationship. Not purposefully, but, it's definitely been forgotten.
So... that is why this weekend has to be the most special and perfect one we've experienced yet.
My feet carried me excitedly through the threshold of the airport, the immediate murmur of mixed conversations hitting my ears. Though I was only running on a few hours sleep - restless the night before as a result of nerves and anticipation - I couldn't stop smiling. The queues were short as I raced my way through, handing my suitcase in and making my way to security. Stern security guards stared at me as I put my handbag onto the trolley, pacing slowly through the detector and internally celebrating when it lit up green.
The atmosphere shifted to a more relaxed and calm state, the smell of the duty-free perfumes and undertones of McDonalds hitting my nose as people leisurely browsed the stores. Glancing to my watch, I realised I had a fair amount of free time before I needed to make my way to the gate, so I headed straight to the overpriced chocolate. A plane journey to America was the devil's favourite, so a little bit of junk food needed no justification.
Browsing the display, I selected a variety of bars, flavours varying so I had diversity to choose from over the hours. I also picked up a few bits for Harry, just to extra sweeten my arrival, and some really beautifully smelling perfume for Sarah: she helped set up this surprise again, so it was only right I thanked her in a proper way.
As I watched the cashier bag my items, I let my mind wonder to the adventure laying ahead of me.
I was travelling to America, specifically Inglewood California, to watch Harry play his final show of Love On Tour at The Forum. Sarah gave me the idea after I said I wanted to up the level from when I surprised him at Eventim Apollo. She said 'he'll be on such a high from the show and be feeling such relief that he can finally go home and rest with you, seeing your face in such a magical moment will probably make him explode. It's the perfect, most unexpected surprise, and he will love you for it.'
Taking my bag, I carried it in my free hand, my other arm occupied by my handbag filled with my makeup bag and change of clothes for the concert. I was wearing some black cycling shorts and one of Harry's oversized hoodies - a comfy and extremely casual outfit. My flight is roughly 11 hours, leaving at 8:22am and landing at 7:56pm, which is 11:56am California time, giving me about 6 hours to sleep before I need to make my way to the arena.
Yes, I do have time to unpack my suitcase. No, I don't trust the airport and feel like they will loose my luggage, and I don't want to see my boyfriend for the first time in 4 months wearing pyjamas.
My stomach rumbled as I left the store, walking down the busy path and glancing into every shop, trying to find one that offered the easiest food to eat. I double-looked a Costa, deciding to cave and get a toastie. With a basic cheese and ham toastie, a 2 litre bottle of water for the flight and a decaf coffee - for the placebo affect of energy, but without the side affects of needing the toilet about 17 times on an aeroplane - I approached the till.
As she placed my food in the oven, I caught my reflection in the glass display, gasping minorly at how rough I looked. My curls were thrown into a frizzy bun, loose curls falling everywhere and drawing the attention to the heaving bags under my eyes and ghostly complexion drowning my face. Today was hair wash day, but, I figured it was more sensible to wash them in the hotel room than to travel with fresh curls and have them get attacked by the humidity throughout the day.
Sarah also hooked me up with the hotel room Harry was staying in so that I could drop my stuff there. She assured me that they wouldn't be in there because they were leaving early for sound check, and wouldn't go back until very late in the evening because they would be partying. Naturally, I was psyched to not have to pay for a hotel room, plus Harry buys the nicest rooms so I get a more luxurious experience.
Thanking the worker for my food, I hurried to occupy an empty seat in the café. Exhaling in relief as I finally sat down, I took a bite from my food. With time to kill, I pulled out my phone and began scrolling through my notifications. They were mainly from Angel:
Angel:
Have fun with your mans
Angel:
Text me when you take off and when you land x
Angel:
Feel free to buy me something from the airport...
Angel:
...or a souvenir.
Angel:
If u don't have the best sex of ur life tonight I will personally sue you
Angel:
I want updates!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I chuckled aloud as I text him back quickly, shut up you twat. talk later xx, before I realised I hadn't messaged Harry in a few days. Keeping things casual so he didn't suspect anything, I sent him a little message to brighten his already radiant day... even though it's night time for him due to the time difference. Hopefully he wakes up to it though.
Harry:
Have a great last show today, H. Can't wait for you to be back home <3
Finishing my food quickly, I heard over the airport speakers that my gate was already open, so decided I may as well try and get seated before it gets too busy. I shoved my bottle in my already full handbag, put my phone in my hoodie pocket and with a large sip of coffee, set off through the maze of people.
Airports always fascinated me - the countless journeys people were about to embark on, the hundreds of flights disbursing all over the planet, the way that one turn takes you to the depths of the Australian out backs and the other takes you to the rustic cafe's of France. My journey was to the love of my life, 5000 miles across the world, performing in a stadium filled with 17,500 adoring fans all screaming his thoughts, feelings and deliberations through the timeless beauty of music.
I'm nervous.
I'm excited.
I'm scared.
I'm tired... and I'm about to be jetlagged.
"Passport and ticket, please." The gate worker forced a smile, placing a demanding hand out. I realised my ticket and passport were at the bottom of my very full bag, and I had no free hands. Mentally screaming at myself for the embarrassment I was about to put myself through, I dropped my bags on the floor, placing my coffee cup in her hand on reflex before falling to meet my bags.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit I cursed, tossing my water bottle, clothes and toiletries out my handbag until I found my passport and very crinkled ticket. "Here!" I jumped up, panting but trying to hide it as I passed them to her, taking the coffee from her. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I quickly packed my things again and rushed out an apology. "I am so sorry, I'm so unorganised and I thought today had gone too smoothly - it was inevitable that I misplaced something." I tried to laugh off the awkwardness, her crinkled face not seeming impressed as she snapped my passport shut.
"Hmm." She sounded in disapproval. "Try and be more organised next time - really helps the airport work more smoothly." Her lips curved into a wiry smile, her voice fake and rude as she nodded minimally at me.
Looking over my shoulder, my jaw dropped as there was crickets behind me. I was the only one here, and she had the nerve to talk to me like that. I smiled back, snatching my things from her before proceeding through the gate. Shoving my passport into my bag, I pulled my phone from my bag and began to type a one-handed message to Angel.
Angel:
Just boarding now - will text u in 11 hours when I land. I was about to tell you how excited I am until my mood got ruined by this bitch working the gate. Like... I'm sorry that you strained your neck painting your face orange and drawing on your slug eyebrows, but don't make it my problem.
I triumphantly sent the message, feeling petty but relieved from my anger as I reached the plane door. Being tired makes me a right asshole.
"Hello, welcome aboard your Emirates flight. You are our first passenger. Since I have more time to talk to you, my name is Abi - if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask." Her smile was true and her presence was welcoming as she looked into my hands holding a coffee cup and a phone. "Do you have your ticket? Just so I can help you find your seat."
I tucked my phone neatly into my pocket and retrieved the ticket from the top of my bag. "Sorry it's crumpled. I'm bad with airports." She laughed at my remark, easing me as she lead me down the thin isle and to my seat. Luckily, as it's a long-haul flight, they give you bigger seats so it is easier to fall asleep.
"Thank you so much, Abi." I praise as I put my bag next to my window seat, sinking down into the blue leather with ease.
"My pleasure." She vanished back to the front of the plane quickly.
I tucked my bag under my chair, opening the window cover so I could gaze over the airport runway. Resting my head on the wall, my fingers trailed to my neck to fiddle with the dainty necklace Harry had bought me.
Two months ago...
"Hey!" I exhaled with a smile, falling down to lay on our bed as I answered the facetime call from Harry. He's in Chile for my birthday this year, which is sad, but it's okay because I know he's working hard, and I'm proud of him.
Harry's lips automatically quirked into a warm smile. "Happy birthday, love."
"Thankyou!" I hummed in appreciation of his remembrance, blowing him a little kiss with my hand.
"How's your day been? Tell me all about it." He shifts to lean forward, ready to listen to my answer. Bless him I thought to myself, finding time in his busy schedule to talk to me.
"Well..." I began, rolling onto my stomach. Harry looked radiant. I wasn't sure what time it was where he was, but his skin was glowing golden brown, his eyes beaming a perfect green and his lips a blush pink. The curls in his hair were defined yet loose, draping over his face and casting a minor shadow over his defined jaw. "Angel slept over so I wouldn't wake up alone. We had pancakes and just lounged around all morning. He got me a beautiful new fin to replace the broken one on my board, so now I can surf again! The waves are shit today though, so we aren't going out. My mum and dad sent me a letter as always, and later Angel and I are going out for dinner in a neighbouring town."
"Sounds like you're having a lovely day, beautiful." There was slight sadness behind his voice, as if he wishes he could be here.
"Would be even better if you were here." I was honest, feeling as though lying to him and saying I am, it's the best day I've ever had would make him feel worse, leading him to think that I don't need him with me to be happy.
He hung his head momentarily, voice falling quiet. "I know, I know. I'm sorry, baby. I really am."
In the corner of my eye, I spotted the letter that had come in the post earlier that morning, smiling to myself as I remembered the message inside. "Thank you for the letter. It was as poetic and elegant as always." I held it to my heart as I spoke, my fingers gracing the light brown paper extremely lightly in deep fear of damaging the most recent and physical reminder of our love for one another.
"Did you like your present?" Harry looked mischievous.
"Harry, is that my queue?" I heard Angel ask hesitantly, my jaw dropping as I darted to look at him creeping through my bedroom door.
"Yep." He replies chipperly.
"Primrose would you follow me, please?" Angel requested, opening the door fully and gesturing for me to leave. I stared down the camera at Harry for a few moments, scowling at his smug face in suspicion as a small, airy laugh fell from my mouth.
I slowly rolled to my feet, following Angel through my apartment. "Harry, what did you do?" Her voice was weary as I reached the bottom of the stairs, entering the empty bar.
"Prim, you know how I've always loved the decoration in the bar?" Harry spoke calmly, keeping a relaxed face as he watched me nod slowly.
"By decoration, do you mean the surfboards?" It's the only decoration in the bar - the main focal point of the whole thing.
"Which one's your favourite?" Harry leant further forward as if he were trying to see through the screen and look at the boards with me.
I raised an eyebrow at him. "You know this... it's the red coca cola one?" I glanced over at Angel, who was chewing on his cheek to try and hide his smile.
"Look again and tell me if you are certain of that." Harry leans back on his sofa. I scoff at him, rolling my eyes and looking up at the ceiling. My eyes lazily searched the ceiling, admiring the boards, remembering the history each one held, thinking of the local surfing legends who used each one.
"Yes, Harry." I reached the coke board. "I'm certain that my favourite is the-" The words froze in my thorat.
A gasp shook my body as my eyes widened, jaw dropping as I blinked to make sure I was seeing clearly.
"Harry..."
"Primrose..."
"What did you- how did you- when did- I- huh?" I stumbled aimlessly over my baffled words, saying whatever I could through my jumbled thoughts.
Hanging above me, directly next to my favourite surfboard, was my birthday present: a perfectly crafted, creamy white board with veins of layered pastels running through the iridescence, revealing itself through varying angles. The marbling was separated from the top of the board by a thin, blue line which bled into a solid white top, perfect for waxing. The fins were encased into the masterpiece, each holding a different pastel colour of baby blue, baby pink and pastel yellow.
It was a beautiful board - it had to of been specially made by Harry's requests - looking as if it held the exact measurements that I use on all my boards to get the perfect surf.
"Fucking hell, Harry." I can't filter my thoughts. "It's the most stunning board I've ever seen in my life!" I shook my head in disbelief, unable to bring my eyes away from it.
Speechless.
I was utterly speechless.
"A hand-crafted board made by a talented gentlemen in Australia, shipped to me to be inspected for any imperfections - can't give you a bad gift now, can I, love? - and then personally driven down to Angel's house from London to ensure safety by myself." Harry explained with pride and cockiness. Clearly, he'd had this planned for months.
"Harry Styles has been to my house!" I hear Angel whisper in glee to himself, making me chuckle slightly as I turned back to face Harry.
My teary eyes met his as I sniffled. "I love you so much." I had to look away for a few moments, - refusing to ruin my birthday makeup - and laughing to hide my embarrassment. "Thank you, Harry. I can't even vocalise how much I love it."
"Anything for you, my love."
I turned to Angel, placing the laptop on the bartop so that H could see us both. "Did you do this?" I ask with a finger of accusation pointing towards him.
"Yep. Hung it last night." He smiles wide like a child, clasping his hands together as if to applaud himself and looking up to admire his handywork.
I swat his arm rapidly, his reflexes not fast enough as he leaps back with an 'ow'. "This is why you stayed over last night!" I gasp.
"Hey!" Angel points a finger back. "I am also a very considerate friend who didn't want you to wake up a lonor on your birthday." Angel huffs, crossing his arms over his chest in defensive protest.
As Angel and I fell into an aimless bicker, quickly getting off track from the main topic and falling into a wormhole of unsettled debates, I saw Harry glance down at his phone through the corner of my eye.
"Prim, Sarah and Mitch say happy birthday." He tries to chime in.
I sigh, "bless them. Tell them I saw thank you."
"Of course, love. But, there is one more thing for you." As the words slip Harry's mouth, Angel goes behind the bar and pulls out a small, wrapped box and places it on the top before tiptoeing backwards to the stairs with a smile on his face.
"Harry... what's going on?" I grow weary once again as I see yet another gift. "I can't even begin to imagine how expensive that surfboard is. You can't get me anything else!"
Harry laughs. "You forget I'm rich." He reminds me, always looking for ways to show his wealth. Such a narcissist.
"Now, I want to tell you this story as you open it. So, if you just take the box and start tearing away, I'll start talking." Harry clears his throat, shuffling to the end of his sofa and straightening his posture.
I examine the box, tightly wrapped and perfectly square. "Okay, I've started opening it." I hesitate as I hear the paper tear, but deciding to just go for it as I was already fully committed.
"A few months ago, you gave me the confidence and the support and the opportunity to embark through a new door. You gave me the courage to explore new interests and parts of myself I was forced to hide for so long. You have always, always, always let me be quintessentially myself, and, it is something I will be in debt to you for until the day I die. I wanted to give you a piece of the love I felt during that moment on February 1st when I opened that necklace, and will forever feel and remember when I look down at or hold those pears in my hands. I wanted you to always know how much I love you, even when I'm not there to say it."
Harry's words were harmonic to my ears as I held back tears of overwhelming happiness, tossing the wrapping paper on the floor and running my finger over the velvet black box. I held my breath as I opened it, revealing what treasure lays beneath.
When the artwork that solidified our relationship sat before my glossy eyes, the tears began to stream. They were silent and warm - not bothering my skin as they peacefully melted into my skin. The moment became silent as happiness flooded out of me, Harry watching from my side as I talked myself into touching the masterpiece.
The pearl, perched perfectly on the delicate gold chain, glistened in the warm sun. My fingertips hovered so lightly over the jewellery that the sensation of touch was non-existent, the gift seeming too special and too beautiful to even think of wearing. "Oh Harry..." My voice was a soft whisper, my mind unable to vocalise the blissful prosperity I was experiencing right now.
"Do you like it?" He was shy, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. "If not, I can return it and get you something else."
I still can't speak, too absorbed by the necklace to even comprehend what Harry was saying.
"You hate it." Harry's voice was sharp as he smacked his hands flat onto his legs. I darted to look at him, the tears stopping. "It's fine, it's fine. It's my fault. I told Mitch it was too much. I knew I should've just gotten you the board. When I'm back from tour, I'll take you to London and we can get you something bette-"
"Harry!" I had to yell to break though is panic. "Harry, I love it. I love it so much, and I love you even more than I ever thought I could."
"A- Are you sure?" Harry was hesitant, seeming in a bit of a state as he ruffled his hands messily though his hair.
"I'm positive. Now we can be matching." I bring my finger under the pearl and hold it up slightly closer, admiring it all over again.
"Promise me you will never take it off. No matter what happens between us, promise me you will wear it forever."
"I promise."
Present...
The plant took off after a routine safety speech from one of the attendants, and I braced for 11 hours of hell. Next to me was a lady, old and quiet, neatly reading one of the magazines poking out the pocket on the chair in front. As this was an early morning flight, there was slim to no chance of me sleeping through the entire thing, however, as I was up all night I hoped I could get through the majority of it.
My eyes feathered shut and I relaxed as much as I could into the seat, easily falling into a sleep, dreaming of the long yet worthy day laying ahead of me.
"Excuse me?" I heard a voice whisper calmly through the pictures of my dreams. "Excuse me?" I felt something poking against my arm. I shrugged it off, nuzzling further into my arm acting as a pillow. "Ma'am? Can you help me?" The request alerted my mind to wake up, and when I dramatically opened my eyes to look around for the distress, they fell once again onto the old lady.
"I'm so sorry to wake you, but, I was wondering if you could help me. You see, I need to go to the toilet but my seatbelt is stuck, and I'm too embarrassed to ask the flight attendant for help - I don't want to be the needy old lady who annoys everyone. I was going to wait until you woke up, but it's been 9 hours since we set off and, well... you know. Only so long you can hold these things in." She laughed minimally at herself as I looked down to the seatbelt in her lap, the black faux leather strap tangled and weaved around the metal clasp.
9 hours...?! Work must have been tiring me out more than I thought it was.
"Don't worry about waking me, I'm happy to help." I smiled at her, carefully reaching into her lap to begin unfolding the seatbelt. She'd clearly tried to undo it, but instead had accidentally tightened it. Judging by how shaky her hands are as they lay still against the arm rests, I understand fully why she couldn't undo it. It's quite a fiddly job.
"Are you going to California on holiday?" I make simple conversation, coming to the end of the knot.
"No." She replies. "I'm here for a funeral. An old school friend of mine passed away a few weeks ago, she was one of the only girls in my class I kept in contact with through it all. I feel as if I owe it to her to come to her funeral." Her voice was soft as she explained her reasoning, and I felt bad for asking, not expecting such a personal response.
"I'm so sorry for your loss." Taking the metal clasp in my hands, I pull it apart cautiously, laying the two halves by her sides.
"Thank you ever so much, dear." She rose quickly for someone of her age, heading straight down the isle and into the toilet at the end.
As I watched her to make sure she got there safely, a familiar face passed me. "Abi?" I grabbed her attention, causing her to turn and approach me.
"Everything okay?" She was cheery, used to the long haul flights.
"I just wondered how long there is until we land?" I stretched my body as I spoke to her, relieving the aches from how hunched I'd been sleeping.
"It's about 2 hours." Abi got called by one of the other flight attendants as she finished her sentence, excusing herself and vanishing towards them.
Knowing that I wouldn't be able to sleep for the rest of the flight, I caved and went into my bag, retrieving the chocolate and wasting no time diving in. I desperately needed this energy rush: if I was about to find my way though the busy streets of America and get out of the airport in one piece, I needed to be on my highest of alerts.
The rest of the flight went quite quickly, filled with conversation between Molly - the lady next to me - and myself, sharing chocolate and stories. She was fascinated by my means in America, she said it's like I'm living in a film. I didn't feel as if telling Molly the truth about Harry and I would be damaging, because she doesn't seem like the kind of person to gossip to the press, especially if she is here for a funeral. 'I'm here to see my boyfriend.' I told her. 'He's performing in a concert.' However, I didn't give all the details, for Harry's privacy.
'Is he a singer?' She questioned back.
'He sings, he plays, he dances, he does it all.' I laugh.
'What's his name?' Molly snapped another piece of chocolate from the bar, popping it into her mouth.
'Harry. His name is Harry.'
'Well, you seem very happy with Harry.' Her smile was pure.
'I am.'
When we landed, I let the majority of people leave the plane before I tried to. Molly was quick to leave, though. And I assume most people let her past because of her age. Getting through the airport was much easier than expected, and within 30 minutes I was outside and looking for the taxi Sarah had organised for me. Stood in the shade, sheltered from the burning sun was a man dressed in black trousers and a white shirt, holding a sign reading Primrose.
After showing him proof of ID, he kindly took my suitcase from me and walked me to his taxi. The airconditioned car was pleasant against my tired and sweaty skin, and the drive was long and filled with much traffic. I admired the scenery, the life, the colour, the people - it was like a whole new world compared to the serenity of Woolacombe.
As we drove further into the state, the quality of life increased massively and it was clear I was amongst the riches. Skyscrapers towered over me and designer stores filled the gaps between them. Sportscars flooded the streets and palm trees lined every path until we were driving on a repeating treadmill, where everything looked the same.
The car came to a slow stop, the driver wasting no time jumping out to open my door for me. I thanked him for his services, tipping him with the few dollars I'd gotten from the currency-swapper in the airport, before heading into the hotel.
I could tell before I even walked in that I didn't belong here. Sculpted ceilings hung over me as white tiled floors greeted my feet. Natural light poured in from the glass windows, drawing my attention to the rustic furniture decorating the hotel lobby. Behind the desk stood a tall man in an all-black suit, typing away on his computer as I approached.
"Hi, umm, I'm here to check in?" I was unsure at what to do, looking down at the clothes I was wearing and quickly realising they probably thought I was trying to rob the place.
"Can I take a name please?" He didn't look at me as he clicked his mouse relentlessly on the screen.
"Primrose." I crossed my arms over my chest, wanting to shield myself in any way that I could to feel less insecure.
"Hmm." The man batted his eyes to look at me, a frown on his face. "I'm not seeing any bookings under Primrose. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, please exit out the way you came and have a lovely day." He was dismissive, not looking at me for a second longer than he needed to before returning to his screen.
I was right... he thinks I'm scum.
In honesty, I was taken back by his unhelpfulness and rudeness. And as I turned in a mass panic to walk away, I remembered that this wasn't my room, nor was it my booking.
"Try Harry." I step closer to the desk than I was before, resting my arms on it to show that I wasn't going to budge. He looked me up and down, rolling his eyes before searching again for the booking. I felt confident and slightly cocky as I hummed casually, waiting for his inevitable reaction.
"Oh." His aura shifted in milliseconds, smiling widely at me. "Yes, I can see that you've been added on as a guest to Mr. Styles' booking. I am terribly sorry for my mistake. Our concierge will take your luggage to the room, and there is a lift to the penthouse just over here." He handed me a silver keycard, quickly walking me over to the lift and using a pin to open it.
It's funny how much he seemed to care for me when he realised who I was associated with.
Without thanking him, because quite frankly I didn't like him after all of that, I entered the lift with my suitcase - seeing no need for it to be taken up for me due to the miniature size of it - and pressed the one and only button in the lift reading Penthouse.
The smooth jazz music filling the quiet space was calming as this became all too real. I had about 5 hours until I needed to be leaving to get to The Forum, and I was shitting it.
When the doors pinged open, I gasped aloud at the room before me. The living room alone was bigger than my entire house. Two brown, leather sofas sat opposite eachother, a large coffee table between them with plants, books and coasters decorating the top of it. Two armchairs in the same leather were on the other sides, a theme of earth tones running through the pillows and throws upon them all. Behind the seating area was a fireplace, ready to ignite at the strike of a match, with the focal point above it being a stunning painting of what appeared to be California beach. To the left of the lounge was an open plan kitchen, cream granite tops and dark wood cabinets lining the wall with an island in the middle. To the right were two doors, both open, appearing to be a bathroom and a bedroom.
Against the far wall was a staircase, leading me up to a landing with a smaller seating area - another leather chair, a furnished bookcase of all the classics, a smaller coffee table and an overhead lamp - surrounded by about 5 doors, all assumingly bedrooms. There were double doors on one wall, open and inviting me in to look around what I assumed to be Harry's room.
Upon entry, I spotted his suitcase, as well as some dirty clothes on the floor, his notepad on the desk and my little Froggy on the neatly made bed. I smiled at the sight of his belongings, reminding me that he was so close to me and that we'd actually made it this far.
Moments like this make me excited for the years ahead of us, just us, with no distractions, no long distance, no diversions.
Placing my suitcase by his, I kicked my shoes off and collapsed onto the bed, bouncing off the springy matress before shuffling to lay my head on the pillow.
It smelt like him!
Harry's cologne was sewn into the bed from the night before, the soft vanilla and tobacco tones mixing neatly with the fresh linen.
As I lay, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.
Angel:
are u alive? cba if ur plane crashed cuz I'll be so bored without you.
I chuckled at his sympathy, remembering I forgot to tell him when I landed, which by this point was two hours ago.
yes, I'm alive. Sorry, got caught up trying to book in to the hotel. I'll send you a pic of my look later x
The time was now 2:03pm American time. My jetlag was sort of setting in, but because I slept in the plane I didn't feel too tired. I was just uncoordinated, and needed to get myself together fast if I were going to make this concert on time.
To pass some time, I decided to clean Harry's room a bit for him, just so that when we inevitably came home drunk later, we wouldn't trip over a pile of clothes or start punching a suitcase because he thinks it's a person.
Picking up his laundry, I put it on top of the dresser, rolling our suitcases to sit in the wardrobe before I went into the bathroom. It was spotless, the only thing different being his washbag on the side, and his shower products on the floor of the bath. To welcome myself into his room, I retrieved my washbag and makeup from my handbag and placed them next to his.
I was bored, and at this point I was killing time because I was too scared to venture out into Inglewood. Today was boiling - about 30 degrees Celsius - so I knew the streets would be busy.
Grabbing my phone from the bed, I figured I would call Sarah and make sure everything was still okay for tonight.
The phone rang for quite a while, and I feared I would be interrupting soundcheck until she eventually answered with an out of breath "Hey!"
"Sarah, hi! I just wanted to let you know that I was in the hotel room, and I wanted to ask if everything was still okay for tonight? I'm not bothering you from anything, am I?"
"No, no!" She assured. "We were all taking a lunch break - I ran away from Harry so he didn't get confused as to why I was talking to you. Everything is perfect for tonight. I've sent you an online copy of your ticket, it's a really good stand seat. When the concert finishes, you leave like everyone else would, and I'm going to run round to meet you. I'll bring you backstage. Harry usually is on an adrenaline high so he won't be anywhere near the empty stage. Then just do whatever you need to bring him back to see you."
"I'm so nervous!" I cant help but say. The plan seems so straight forward yet I know as soon as it comes to the moment, I'll flop and probably ruin the whole thing.
"Don't be. Don't worry about making it this magical reveal. He loves you, he misses you, and he won't expect to see you here. That will be more than enough." I hear a muffled shout from behind her. "Look, I've got to go, but I'll see you tonight."
"Thank you!" I say quickly, ending the call so she can return to practice.
Right... I thought to myself. I have 3 hours to waste. If I take a reallyyyyyy long shower, do a full skincare routine, apply my makeup to a slow perfection, and then get dressed super slowly, hopefully I'll be ready to leave by 6.
My shower was long, nearing the hour mark, and filled with much of me singing Harry's album - got to make sure I know all the words for tonight. Wrapping myself in one of the towels on the heated rack, using another for my hair and making sure there was one still there for H, I rubbed my hand over the condensation on the mirror to see myself.
Harry's album finished and my Spotify automatically began playing some of One Direction's old music. Dancing along, I applied a facemask with a small brush, curving perfectly around each eye. As it dried, I pulled my curls out of the towel, drying them as much as I could with the microfibre before I began scrunching a leave-in conditioner through them. I twirled the shorter front ones around my pointer finger, defining them more than the others so they framed my face properly. After running some coconut oil through the ends, I washed my facemask off and proceeded with my skincare routine. My skin glowed in the white lights surrounding the mirror, my complexion looking healthier than it did previously.
A chill ran up my skin when I entered the bedroom again, my body adjusting to the temperature change from the steam-filled bathroom. Once I'd gotten my outfit out of my handbag, I lay it out on the bed to make sure I liked it. I'd packed three alternatives in my suitcase in case I didn't like this one, but this was my favourite out of the four so I was praying this would be fine.
It was a steel blue bodycon dress with a mock neck, stopping high on my thighs. There was so significant design on the dress, it was plain with very thin ribbing on it. The material was soft, and it was obvious that the main aim of this dress was to highlight the persona's body. This dress was a huge step out of my comfort zone as my body is never something I've been confident with and have never really shown off, I've never qualified as plus size but also never as 'skinny', so I don't really know where I fit. But, I thought I would take a risk and wear it for Harry, because I know how much he loves my body and how much he wants me to be proud of it.
However, I don't have anything to wear over it in case it gets cold.
Unless...
I took Harry's suitcase from the wardrobe, rummaging through it in hope to find any sort of shirt I could wear open over it. Most of them were decorated with patterns, but right at the bottom I found a shirt in a pearl white, looking to be the same one that he wore in his Behind the Album documentary. I quickly put everything back and returned his suitcase, slipping the shirt on just for a moment so that I could see if it looked nice. Surprisingly, it looked really nice, and with the gold jewellery I was going to put on it would be perfect.
Now that I was dressed, and the shirt was secured in my handbag for later, I moved to do my makeup. I had about an hour and a half after the shower and skincare, however, that was plenty of time. There wasn't much technique to what I do, I just sort of slap it on until I look somewhat good. I wanted to wear a bronze look, maybe some light shimmery eyeshadow and a glossy lip - it's all probably going to sweat off during the concert anyways.
As I blended bronzer through the crease of my eye, my phone pinged on the bathroom counter top.
Harry:
Sorry I'm only just seeing this, love. We're so close - one more show and I'm home. Stay safe for me xx
God I love him so much. I can't reply, though. I'm supposed to be asleep right now if I were in England, and we don't want to draw suspicion.
I used my ring finger to spread a champagne shimmer from my inner corner to the middle of my eye, applying a gold to the outer part of my eye and making it look sort of alright. I lapsed the lip gloss over my lips, smacking them together a few times before blotting with a piece of loo roll to remove of access. My jewellery was in a small box in my washbag - it was just some little gold hoops and a plain gold bracelet, but they made the outfit complete.
I took a step back, straightening the pearl on the necklace to sit central on my chest and giving myself one last scan to assure that I looked as good as I could. Weirdly, I felt confident. This dress made my figure look really nice, and I wasn't insecure about my tummy either. I felt good.
Checking the time, I realised I had 20 minutes until my taxi would be here, so I needed to hurry up and finish. I grabbed my bottle of Tom Ford and gusted it over my body, using hairspray to glue down my frizzies so that my hair looked sleek, before grabbing the sunglasses Angel got me for my birthday last year and tossing them in my handbag.
I laced up my Reebok Club C 85's in off white, grabbing my handbag and throwing it over my shoulder before racing out the bedroom, down the stairs and to the lift. With the same jazz music playing, I placed my sunglasses on, bracing myself for people to see me in this dress. The door pinged open and I immediately saw the same desk worker. He turned to me, eyes widening when he saw me.
Striding past him confidently, I heard him try to ask where I was going and to have a good time, but I didn't stop. He doesn't deserve my time of day, especially not when I look this good. Outside, another taxi driver with Primrose on a sign drove me to the stadium.
I don't think it really hit me until I turned the corner into the carpark.
Fans flooded the area, dressed in Harry's merch, flowers and pride flags everywhere. The Forum read Harry Styles all over, his name displayed proudly for the world to see. Harry's concerts are a place of acceptance, of love, of inclusion and of appreciation for ourselves and one another. It never fails to amaze me just how powerful he is, and just how much people trust him to be utterly themselves and vulnerable before him.
They love him.
Stepping out the car, all the insecurities I was trying to ignore melted away. As I walked through the crowds, countless smiles graced me from polite people acting as if I'm just another fan, some coming out of their way to compliment me as I went. I even complimented some others on their outfits, sharing the love radiating between us all until I reached the ticket gate.
The security guard scanned my online ticket, nodding for me to enter the stadium, sending uncontrollable shocks of electricity through my body as I made my way up the steps. This place was massive, and thousands of people were already flocking in. People sprinted into the pit after camping for days, their success finally settling in as their hands met the barrier.
When I found my seat, I saw that there was only about 20 minutes until the show would start, and at this point I remembered that I never showed Angel my outfit. A few rows behind me sat two teenage girls, both stunning in their own ways, deep in conversation.
"Excuse me?" I felt bad to interrupt them.
"Hi!" Their American accent was thick and their voice was cheery.
"Could you take a picture of me, please? My friend wants to see my outfit?" One girl rose as I spoke, climbing over the seats to get to me. I laughed as she stumbled in front of me, and she laughed too.
"Of course, I'd love to." She took my phone and guided me into the best spot, taking a variety of photos from different angles as she spoke. "You look gorgeous. I'm jealous of you."
"Sameee!" Her friend agreed.
The girl handed me my phone back and stayed to make sure they were to my approval. Honestly, they were the best photos anybody had ever taken of me. When she left to sit back with her friend, I sat down and found my favourite to send to Angel.
Angel:
*image*
My outfit! How sick does this show look????
He replied within seconds, not surprising me as he always stays up late.
BEAUTIFUL!!! FUCK IM SO STRAIGHT FOR U. If Harry doesn't rail u in that dress I will fly over myself and do it.
I cackled aloud, not caring who saw me laughing.
I didn't wear this dress to get sex, angel. And thanks, I acc feel quite pretty for once.
As you should, you are stunning. Don't lie to me, we both know you would never wear a dress like that if you were at home. Harry likes it, doesn't he?
Shit... how does he know everything?
Maybe he likes it... ;)
Genuinely didn't wear it for sex, though. Just wanted him to be proud of me.
He will be- so am I. Have fun, baby. I'll see u soon xx
The lights dimmed.
This was it.
The last show of Live on Tour.
The last show until Harry was back with me.
And what a show it was.
The entire stadium united in a frenzy of phone torches, awful singing, crying, and screaming as Harry sung his album. Everyone fell silent as if it were a routine practice when From the Dining Table played - nobody knowing that the girl it was written about was sat in the stands, balling her eyes out like a baby.
Harry was angelic in his suit. The gold and silver sparkled in the bright stage lights, his sweat weirdly attractive as he danced over the stage. I could only begin to imagine how happy he was right now. The euphoria he was feeling must of been other-worldly. When the show came to a close, it was clear that his narcissism was through the roof as he performed Kiwi not once, not twice, but three times.
It were as if this were his last night on earth: he lived so freely and carelessly, sprinting between stage A and stage B, out of breath and hardly singing. But he was still smiling and the crowd was freaking out. I was freaking out. The room was moving with him, nobody cared what they looked like because everybody looked the same.
It's moments like this when I remember what truly living feels like.
The show finished all too soon, and for a while I forgot why I was actually here. I spent about 30 minutes slowly walking out at the back of the crowd, freaking out about the concert as if it didn't just happen. When I pulled my phone out to check my makeup in the camera, it was honestly all gone. My mascara was smudged under my eye and my skin was nothing more than a sweaty mess, but I didn't care.
I were an addict and the drug was life.
I was intoxicated on the adrenaline rush of it all, overindulging to a joyous extent.
The stadium soon quietened as people left, and there was me and about three others making our way back to the car park, deep in discussion, when I felt a buzz on my phone.
Incoming call: Sarah
Shit. Fuck. How could I forget this.
My mind cleared, my body doing a 180 degree turn and my feet beginning to sprint me back into the arena as I answered the call.
"Hello?" I was out of breath but I didn't care. The life running though my bloodstream was so addictive that I felt like I could run forever.
"Where are you?!" Sarah was distressed.
"I forgot, I'm so sorry." I turned a sharp corner, recognising where I was and knowing I was close.
"You forgot?" She was in disbelief.
"I'm coming!" I barrel down the phone, ending the call as I saw her at the end of the corridor. Sarah began running as I approached, holding the door open and giving me access backstage.
"Hi!" She puffed out.
"It's so nice to see you. That was an amazing show." I jumped down a small flight of stairs, feeling like a super hero as Sarah did the same.
"Thank you, you look beautiful." Surprisingly she found time to compliment me as panic riddled both of us - Sarah being gone for so long now that Harry was definitely suspicious.
"Harry's in his dressing room with Jeff and Mitch. The microphone is still on, just go on and do your own thing." We both stumbled to a stop, my chest heaving and my vison fuzzy as I focused on the empty stage before me.
I composed myself, remembering what Sarah said to me earlier today. This doesn't need to be perfect. I repeated to myself as I slowly walked onto the stage. The vast and empty room intimidated me as I shuffled to the mic stand. Looking over my shoulder, Sarah gave me a thumbs up before hurrying off to join the celebrations backstage.
Every nerve in my body pulsed as my heart beat, my mouth dry from the singing and my eyes watering from the wind that whipped them as I ran.
My shaky hand tapped the mic to check it was on, the awful ringing sound echoing the room, making me cringe. Taking a deep breath in, I didn't let myself think about it and just grabbed the mic.
"Hello!" I spoke out into the silence. "Thank you all for being here for me tonight." I grabbed the mic chord and began walking across the stage. "I know you've all missed me, and I've missed you all too. I have a song to perform for you tonight. It's called From The Dining Table - an alternate perspective. Now... I don't know who this song is written about, but I bet she is beautiful, and funny, and just an all round amazing person." I headed to the back of the stage and put my handbag down, finding an unopened water bottle and opening it for some nourishment.
"Okay, are we ready?" I knew Harry had to of heard my voice booming through the speakers by now, so I had to start before he appeared because otherwise I wouldn't be able to stop myself from running into his arms.
Locking the mic back into the stand, I cleared my throat, my vocal chords already warm from the concert. This is where my musical theatre background comes in handy.
"Apparently the band evaporated, so it's acoustic." I wait for laughter as if anyone was actually listening or findng me funny.
I grasped the mic stand lightly in my hold, wetting my lips with my tongue as I sung the first line in my head before aloud.
"Woke up confused in your hotel room..." My voice was airy and shaky as I was still panting, but I pushed it down. I pushed it all down, all the nerves, the adrenaline, the excitement, and I sung. "...dressed in your best. Where were you?"
Feathering shut, I found calmness in the darkness of having closed eyes.
"Whispered goodbye, with nowhere to go. Lay a kiss, soft as snow." This was a version I'd toyed around with a few weeks ago. I was sad and feeling lonely, so I took a beautiful song, butchered it a lot, and came out with this.
"We haven't spoke since I ran away..." As I went to sing the next lyric, I felt a presence next to me. When my eyes opened, there, on the other side of the stage, was Harry. His smile was wide and his chest too was heaving, as if he'd ran back to the stage to see who was singing. "Comfortable silence is so overrated..." Harry approached me slowly, keeping silent so he could listen to my lyric changes. "Why can't I ever be the first one to break?"
I gasped as I felt the light stroke of Harry's hand against my waist. We were facing one another, eyes locked together, bodies touching through his fingertips. "I know my phone misses your call, by the way."
There was silence between us as the imaginary instrumental played. Harry seemed shocked as he looked at me, his hand still so gentle it almost didn't exist. His hand trailed up my waist and onto my arm, following it down until he met my hand. Dropping it from the mic stand, he held it softly in his, lacing our fingers together.
"He saw my friend that I knew from work... friend said I feel just fine." I watched as Harry lifted my hand to meet his mouth, his lips pressing a kiss into my fingers before he held it against his face. "I was upstairs, I was hiding - scared. Came down but your heart ran..." I pulled the microphone from the stand, bringing it to sit between us, resting against my chin as I sung.
"He saw it written, it's all over his face: my comfortable silence was so overrated..." Harry dropped my hand gently, stepping closer so there was sheer millimetres between us.
"...Why can't I ever say what I need to say?" "Why won't you ever say what you need to say?" I smiled as Harry made us a duet, singing his lyrics along with mine, making the two perspectives whole.
"I know my phone-"
"even my phone, misses your call, by the way."
Harry's fingertips met my hand again, holding it tight as we shared the next section once again, alternating lines.
"Maybe one day I'll call you, and tell you that I'm sorry too."
"Maybe one day you'll call me, and tell me that you're sorry too."
On the third, Harry sung along with me, harmonising his voice against mine.
"Maybe one day I'll call you, and tell you that I'm sorry too..." He stepped back slowly, his suit sparkling once again as our arms were now stretched out loosely. " 'cause you, you saved me too..."
It was getting harder to push it all down: the need to kiss Harry grew every second but I so desperately wanted to finish this song. His eyes were glossy, and I couldn't tell if the song was making him sad, if me being here was making him overly happy or if he was just all round overwhelmed.
Harry's arm raised, slowly beginning to spin me round in a dance as I went on, smiling as I sung. "dreaming a voice - it sounds just like you..." I gasped as Harry pulled my body lightly towards his after the spin, making me stumble into his chest. His arms wrapped around me effortlessly, swaying me side to side. "...I think it said your name." With the microphone pinned between us, Harry joined me once again to finish the song.
Though I was surrounded by an arena of thousands of seats and beaming lights, the only thing I cared about was the green emeralds that had been locked on me since the moment I spotted them across the bar in Jamaica.
"We haven't spoke since you went away. Comfortable silence is so overrated. Why can't you ever be the first one to break? Even my phone misses your call, by the way."
"We haven't spoke since I ran away. My comfortable silence is so overrated. Why can't I ever say what I want to say... I know my phone misses your call, by the way."
Silence.
We both were in awe of one another. Bodies touching and hearts connecting. I felt his arm loosen on me as I turned to place the microphone back on the stand. As soon as my head turned to face Harry again, his lips collided with mine in such a way that the world truly felt like heaven. The touch between us was simple, but after being deprived of one another for so long it sent shockwaves through my nerves. And once again, I was an addict.
The sensation of my skin against his was one I knew I would never be able to live without.
It was as if I were in a trance. All I could focus on was they way he touched me, held me, moved with me, looked at me, smiled at me. Yes, he was just holding my waist, but to us it was so much more than that. It was the first hug on the beach in Jamaica, it was out first kiss, it was fittings at Gucci and dates on the beach, it was tattoos upon our fingers and pearls around our necks, it was the H and S mugs, it was the sides of the bed we kept empty for one another, it was the letters, it was the surfboard...
It was love.
We pulled away from one another, and I sucked in for air as I stared at him, forcing out a weak "hi."
Harry chuckled at me, his dimples even more perfect than I remember as I cupped his face with my hands, pulling his face forward for another kiss. With his hands still around my waist, Harry tightened his hold, swaying me side to side for a few moments, before he dropped me into a lunge, kissing me as if we were in a film. I felt the ends of my hair stroke against the floor and I felt the air lift from my lungs as he pulled me back up again.
Not giving me time to adjust, Harry effortlessly picked me up, hoisting his hands to rest under my bum. As our lips danced with one another, I felt his hands slide up my body, letting me slowly move down to a stand again. I was dizzy with love as I opened my eyes to look at him, pulling away so that I could just hug him.
I appreciated his smell, the way his heart beat against my chest, the way his breath rolled down my back, the way I felt unconditionally safe with him.
"hi." I hear him whisper back to me. "what are you doing here?" He keeps me tight to his body as we speak.
"Wanted to surprise you. Tomorrow wasn't close enough." I kiss his shoulder softly.
Harry chuckles quietly. "I love you so much." He kisses my neck with feathers.
Bringing me to stand in front of him again, I blink rapidly to clear the tears from my eyes. Harry tilts his head to the side with a sympathetic look, bringing his thumbs to rub away the moisture.
"It's okay. They're happy tears." I hold his hands with mine as they press against my face.
"Happy tears.." He whispers in assurance to himself, smiling as he leans forward to peck my lips once more.
I looked around the stage, taking in my surroundings better as I now had a more focused mind. Flowers scattered the floor of the pit and the stage, creating an ambient rainbow of love from his fans. As I approached the edge of the stage to gaze out into the isle where he runs, I felt his hand on my shoulder. When I turned, he stood with a shy smile, one hand behind his back.
Without a word, he revealed a bouquet of sunflowers, handing them to me.
"They're beautiful!" I beam down at the decadent yellow petals, each alike that respect.
"You look absolutely breath taking tonight, love." Harry looked me up and down, exhaling with wide eyes. "So beautiful." He said as if it were meant to be to himself. "And this..." He approached, his large hands moving to grace the pearl around my neck. "This looks perfect on you."
"I love it, H. I promised you I would never take it off!"
"I know, but seeing you with it on in person for the first time is just so overwhelming." Harry's eyes moved from the pearl to my lips, his body leaning down to lay a kiss on them again.
"I want you to do something." Harry's grip on my waist was firm as he walked me to the centre of the stage. He bent town to level his head with mine. "You know that adrenaline rush you get at a concert? When you feel like you can conquer the world over and over again?" His voice was low as I nodded. "I call it the buzz: an indescribable euphoric high in which your body becomes amped up with adrenaline to such a magnitude that you feel indestructible."
"That's what I felt when you performed tonight, and when I was running backstage with Sarah - I felt like I was in a film." I reply, looking at him as I speak. I see him smile, rising to stand up straight and shifting to lay his head on the other side of my body.
"It's what I feel every second I'm with you." He whispered, kissing my cheek lovingly. "Single out what you felt like when you were running to me. I want us to experience that, together."
"How?" I question, my eyes following him as he took the flowers from me and lay them on my bag. He fished into my bag and grabbed my phone, getting in easily as he knew my password and typing for a few moments. I flinched as the sudden sound of music started blaring through the speakers.
Out of my League by Fitz and The Tantrums.
This song was definitely laced with some sort of drug.
Harry met me at the front of the stage. "At soundcheck today, they let us use the speakers when we aren't playing our songs. So when they're working out what lights need to be where and stuff, we play whatever we want."
"So... I've singled out the feeling of running." I get back to Harry's original point. "How do we experience it together?"
"I need you to run." He stands up straight next to me, rolling his neck to click it, stretching his arms out in front of him.
"What?" I was confused.
"I need you, to run." There was no deliberation about what he wanted.
"Run where?" Harry holds my waist and moves me to be perfectly central on the stage.
"Ahead. Down the isle of flowers." He released me, standing to my side. Before us was a set of about 5 stairs, and then a huge isle leading to stage B.
"Primrose, don't think - just run!" Was the last thing I heard before Harry began sprinting: he leapt down all five stairs, his long strides carrying him down the flowers. Like a bird, his arms flew by his sides, his head thrown back and his curls dancing in the night air.
And before I could realise what was happening, I was sprinting too.
The world moved in slow motion as the song consumed my hearing, the colours beneath my feet mixing together into a palette of rainbow. I was laughing. Nothing was funny but I was laughing. Harry became a smudge far in front of me as I fell into a tunnel of joy. Every step was like a breath of fresh air: I'd never felt more connected to myself or the earth.
"I fucking love life!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, laughing once more as I cleared my eyes to look straight ahead. The stairs grew rapidly closer, and so did Harry. He was stood on the second stage, his smile alone lighting the entire stadium as he welcomed me with open arms.
As I drew closer I could hear him laughing along with me. It was infectious, perfection in every way. My heart hammered in my chest like a machine as I neared,
and every time it beat, it beat for him.
My feet rose in preparation to sprint up the steps, yet before I could make contact with them I squealed as Harry swept me up, underestimating the speed at which I was moving. Both of us toppled to the ground in heaps of laughter, his arms around my waist as he smiled up at me.
I rose quickly to my feet, pulling him up with my hand. We aimlessly danced as two lovers, drunk on one another, acting as if the night were infinite and are existence were too.
"Primrose, promise me that our souls will remain as one... through this life and the next." Harry held me close to him as he stilled our moving feet. The smile on our faces were unbreakable as I answered him.
"I promise."
The simple phrase spoke a thousand stories, would stand through a thousand lives and would remain true even in the afterlife. Through the depths of hell and the golden paradise of heaven, our love will walk on, hand in hand, side by side, until we are reborn as ourselves and meet once again.
It is inevitable that a love this strong will find its way back to one another - even after the hardships that come with a connection as powerful as this one. We will always find one another in the grace of our hearts.
And as God bid Adam and Eve to do, through Eden we will walk together, finding peace in the minimalism that is nature and that is ourselves.
the end.