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deadcactuswalking · 10 months

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 17/06/2023 (J Hus/Drake, Nathan Dawe/Joel Corry/Ella Henderson)

Content warning: Alcoholism and Drake features

Dave and Central Cee hold on for a second week with “Sprinter” at #1 on the UK Singles Chart, and welcome back to a human-written episode of REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

This may be a particularly tired episode - I am kind of exhausted but surely the charts can fix that! Right? That’s how that works, right? Yeah, it’s probably the opposite but as always we start with notable dropouts, which are songs exiting the UK Top 75 - what I cover - after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40. This week is a tad less busy than last, but we still do have a somewhat impressive list here, consisting of “Hits Different” by Taylor Swift - already! - as well as a few older songs that had returned recently, those being “Maria Maria” by Santana featuring The Product G&B and “Creep” by Radiohead. We also bid farewell to “Haven’t You Ever Been in Love Before” by Lewis Capaldi, “MATHEMATICAL DISRESPECT” by Lil Mabu (good riddance), “I Wrote a Song” by Mae Muller, “Search & Destroy” by Drake and “If We Ever Broke Up” by another Mae, that being Stephens. Yeah, I’m not really complaining about any of this.

So what’s filling the blanks? Well, we have returns for “I Ain’t Worried” by OneRepublic at #72 for whatever reason and thanks to his regular concert-related return, “Seventeen Going Under” by Sam Fender is back for a week or two at #29. Elsewhere, we see boosts for “Give it to Me” by Matt Sassari at #64 - I’m kind of surprised that one’s getting anywhere - “Closer” by Bou featuring Slay at #48 (joy), “Sittin’ on Top of the World” by Burna Boy at #43, “Heaven” by Niall Horan rebounding to #40 thanks to his #1 album, “UNHEALTHY” by Anne-Marie featuring Shania Twain at #36 (her first top 40 hit in 20 years), “Satellite” and “Late Night Talking” by Harry Styles at #31 and #30, “Heat Waves” by Glass Animals at #25 (seriously), “Waffle House” by the Jonas Brothers at #22, and quite fortunately, “Good Love” by Hannah Laing and RoRo at #13. We also have a welcome addition to the top 10 with “Padam Padam” by Kylie Minogue at #9, becoming her first top 10 hit as a lead artist since 2010’s “All the Lovers” hit #3, and she has like 30 to a morbillion others, including her feature Taio Cruz’s “Higher” in 2011, which peaked at #8, but that song also had Travie McCoy of the Gym Class Heroes on it so maybe it’s best we don’t acknowledge its existence.

This week’s top five on the UK Singles Chart consists of “REACT” by Switch Disco featuring Ella Henderson and the late Robert Miles at #5, “Giving Me” by Jazzy at #4, “Miracle” by Calvin Harris and Ellie Goulding at #3, “Who Told You” by J Hus featuring Drake debuting at #2 - more on that later - and of course, “Sprinter” by Dave and Cench at the top. With all that out of the way, it is now time for our batch of new arrivals and… it’s a bit of a mess? Let’s just get through them.

NEW ARRIVALS

#75 - “So Much in Love” - D.O.D

Produced by D.O.D

Well, it’s been a while since we’ve heard from D.O.D, the Manchester DJ best known for “Still Sleepless”, which is a song I still quite like. I didn’t exactly have any expectations but yeah, this is about just as good. It is funny to think that D.O.D is cribbing from the same vocal loops as Bad Boy Chiller Crew did with a song of the same name, but he definitely does more with it, including the tense chopping of the vocal amidst church organs in the beginning with really ramps up the melodrama to a level that seems appropriate for how relentlessly hard the hardcore kick ends up going in the drop. In fact, I think I ended up talking myself into liking this a great deal more than I initially did, probably because it hit some kind of nostalgia receptor, but the raspier vocal and the juicy bass synth really did convince me on this, especially with the choking percussion and the ambient release in the bridge that may have church organs, but they’re pretty jerky, and amidst a lot of janky distant synths, which fits for a song about desperately trying to return the relationship to the good old times. By the time it got to the breakdown using what sounds like an audience cheering and an alarm siren, it really hit me that this is an excellent dance song. I’m glad to know that the uniqueness of the more independent dance hits from last year is continuing on into this year, and this kind of wacky garage house track can add yet another song to that burgeoning list, it’s great.

#69 - “VULGAR” - Sam Smith and Madonna

Produced by Sam Smith, ILYA, Cirkut, Omer Fedi, Ryan Tedder and Jimmy Napes

Well, it’s been a while since we’ve heard from Sam Smith after their album rollout and well, we’re never stop hearing from Madonna, yet this collaboration makes perfect sense. If Smith wishes to go the “Unholy” route - which proved profitable - the next logical step is ugly transgression with, well, the Queen of Transgression. I am kind of underwhelmed by this, honestly, considering the snippet ended up sounding weirder than the actual song. We start with intense strings and obnoxiously pitch-shifted vocals as I kind of expected, before getting into a bassy minimal groove - which I also expected - and man, I think the problem is I expected too much of it. I still like the song, with its staccato verses and grinding industrial plucks and sound effects, as well as the refusal to actually “work” as a pop song, but apart from the drop with eerie strings, cacophonous house percussion and an overwhelming bass that really is hurt by the stop-and-start rhythm of the chorus. I’d argue Madonna actually performs better here than on “Popular”, particularly because this brand of more avant-garde electropop has been her brand for the 2010s before it was Sam’s, and she actually kind of dominates the song by the end, which makes complete sense since Sam doesn’t work well here - they feel a bit too hollow and sensitive in their vocal tone to make sense on a track that needs an Arca remix. I still did end up liking this song, even on pure novelty, but I really wish it went somewhere edgier and more actually challenging.

#66 - “Mona Lisa” (Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse) - Dominic Fike

Produced by Will Yanez, Beat Butcha, Kenny Beats and StarGate

Well, it’s been a while since we’ve heard from Dominic Fike, though I heard he was acting in an insufferable HBO series… so it makes sense that he’s back with yet another song from the Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse soundtrack.This one has self-aware cover art, which makes me automatically hate it since you had millionaire rappers on the official soundtrack and they were absolutely fine with using their image for Spider-Man, so for this little indie pop lad who sounds like a nose piercing personified could probably use it for some momentum without, you know, making fun of it. It’s needless to say, I think this is terrible, with a weak falsetto vocal loop and obnoxiously Lauv-esque acoustic guitar strumming that… becomes a house song, for some reason, and it really caught me off-guard whilst also sounding incredibly unfitting, especially with some of the most unlikeable Auto-Tuned vocals I’ve ever heard in this brand of alt-pop. Not even the chorus is all that catchy, with both the shoddily-mixed percussion and his incomplete vocal inflections sounding like a rough demo. Let’s not get into the condescending lyrics before this gets embarrassing since this is just awful.

#59 - “Take Two” - BTS

Produced by SUGA and EL CAPITXN

You know, for a boy band that is “on hiatus”, it hasn’t really been a while since we last heard from BTS. This song is a one-off single celeb rating the 10th anniversary of the group’s formation, thanking their fans through this song being supposedly dedicated to them, but really, it reads like a generic breakup if you translate the lyrics. I’m sure they mean something extra for the ARMY and of course lyrics that don’t resonate won’t kill a song, especially not one with a nice watery guitar lick, co-produced by one of the members - SUGA - which is cool - to make the lovely platitudes seem particularly breezy and cute, which fits for the guys’ high registers and incredibly dedicated delivery, with all the boys selling everything as hard as possible in a very pop fashion, which becomes a problem in that kind of mess of a chorus, wherein the compression definitely does not do wonders for either half of the overly loud and overwhelming hook, with extra vocal riffing to add even more to the mix, and it sounds pretty bad, which is disappointing since outside of the chorus, this isn’t bad at all - it just devolves into really cheap-sounding advertisement music for the refrain. I actually really like the melodic rap delivery from j-hope and RM, and the way they trade spoken-word verses with SUGA in the bridge is a nice, intimate touch, with SUGA’s lyrics more specifically referring to the fans in a really poetic fashion if the Genius translation is to be believed. It’s a shame that these good elements don’t necessarily make a good song, but I don’t think it’s the boys’ fault, it could have just used some extra time in the vault to ensure it actually sounded right before release. I feel like I have to say this - nothing against the boys, absolutely screw military conscription - but I did not have a headache before listening and I now very much do, that’s all I can say.

#58 - “How Does it Feel” - Tom Grennan

Produced by Carl Falk and Ryan Linvill

Well, it’s been a while since we’ve heard from Tom Grennan, but this is his last pre-release single before he released his album What Ifs & Maybes - on the day of me writing this - so I was excited to hear if he could finally fully impress me. “All These Nights” got close, but Grennan has always been so close to making an actually great 80s pop rock pastiche… and God damn it, he might have just done it, because this is an insanely fun bop, and one that’s also kind of toxic to boot. He sounds pathetic belting amidst the Infectious guitars and flat synthpop drums, promising that he’s changed and he’ll make the relationship work, but sounding absolutely not enthused about it. The call-and-response between the Auto-Tuned drizzle of “Just tell me something” before the verse starts with “I don’t know what to tell you” is great, and the sing-songy chorus where he acknowledges how this is far away from actually apologising and mending wounds is just the icing on this petty, condescending cake. His breathy, smug delivery makes this sound just that more like a complete douchebag anthem, and the refrain of “How does it feel?” seems particularly just like a complete dick move, and I’m embracing all of it, with the rapid staccato harmonies of the second chorus and the killer anti-climax that is that chorus, as well as those twinkling synths that back its second half. I’d prefer a bridge with a bit more to it, or no bridge at all, but the drum fills and fuzzy ambiance does grant it some extra oomph that I appreciate. I even think that unlike most Tom Grennan songs, it wouldn’t work better as a heavier track since it needs its breeziness to be as pissy as it is. So, yeah, by being complete unlikeable, Tom Grennan has won me over. What does that say about me? Oh, Liam Payne co-wrote this? That makes way too much sense.

#45 - “Dial Drunk” - Noah Kahan

Produced by Noah Kahan and Gabe Simon

Well, it’s been a while since we’ve heard from… okay, who the heck actually is this guy? So, Kahan is from Vermont and he makes folk music, and since the UK is latching onto country, I suppose rootsy Americana is to follow, with his recent reissue of his album Stick Season generating his first genuine breakout hit on the charts with “Dial Drunk” and, well… I’m not a fan, but I’m sure the kids like it. I don’t like it primarily for very shallow reasons - the drums are mixed in a way that sounds too dusty and distracting, and I just can’t really stand Kahan’s kind of nasal voice and delivery, which is a shame because he paints a good picture in his songwriting, which is a narrative about an alcoholic regretting his actions when he uses someone he’s no longer in a relationship with as an emergency call once he’s arrested. It definitely has the jerkiness and uncertainty of an alcoholic, including a dialogue between him and the police in the bridge which was actually pretty compelling… and yeah, I’ve talked myself into liking it again, except not as much this time, primarily because I still don’t necessarily like how the song sounds, even if the guitar solo’s pretty nice and as are the harmonies. It’s still just a bit grating and kind of unlikeable to actually work for me, and the chorus feels way too consistent for its content, but it’s definitely a decently written and composed song, just not one that I’m particularly feeling.

#23 - “0800 HEAVEN” - Nathan Dawe, Joel Corry and Ella Henderson

Produced by Nathan Dawe, Joel Corry and Punctual

Well, it’s been a while since we’ve heard from - who am I kidding? These people are charting constantly, and rarely with an actually good song, though to be fair, it just happens that all three have actually had a song that impressed me for the first time just recently, as “Oh Baby”, “Dance Around It” and “REACT” are all great tunes, so I had some element of hope, but I was still expecting it to be pretty generic and well, it is, but it has a very cheesy Eurodance element to it, especially with the conceit of Heaven having a phone line, which Ella sells way too seriously - and that is a good thing… in fact, screw it, I like the song as a whole too. The flubbery synth lead sounds farty and obnoxious in the best way possible, and the percussion actually has some frenetic energy to it that I really appreciate detail-wise, before tunnelling into the Eurodance club drop it was made to have. I do have to say - it’s not particularly impressive lyrically, in fact the sole verse and pre-chorus are kind of cringeworthy, and the song structure is of course not particularly impressive, with its wham line already being corny before being interrupted for the drop. Does that mean I don’t like it? Far from it - the drop bumps, Ella sounds great and the song gives me a wave of Clubland TV nostalgia, and to be fair to the usually bland producers here, there is some nice ambiance and detail, especially in the outro with the recorded phone call. Some extra effort was put into the atmosphere of this one, and it went a long way. Good song.

#2 - “Who Told You” - J Hus featuring Drake

Produced by P2J, E.Y., Gaetan Judd and JAE5

Well, it’s been a Drake since we’ve Draked from Drake, but I’m definitely more excited about the production here, given P2J and JAE5 sounds like an incredible duo, and J Hus has slid on production particularly from JAE5 before, so I had high hopes… and, well, it’s not what I expected, definitely being a bit more percussive with its jazzy pianos and quasi-Afrobeats rhythm amidst stray chipmunk vocals… and yeah, J Hus is not great here. He’s never been great at songs about women or partying, so he feels completely out of his element trying to adapt his unique delivery to a very fitted rhythm, so his performance is just awkward and honestly embarrassing with his corny sex raps and just repeating himself in the first verse. It’s not like Drake sounds any better - he’s just off-beat, referencing his own songs in his fake accent and taking random left-turns into melodic flows whilst being way too shoddily mixed for the sheer length of his demo-sounding verse. The squeaking guitar that arrives during his verse sounds just as unfitting as Drake does, and for whatever reason, there’s a second J Hus verse, and he sounds a bit more energetic but again, his unhinged delivery doesn’t fit on tighter grooves like this, even when a bit more melodious as he tends to be. It’s why he’s always on looser instrumentals, so this just feels like an okay beat given to a duo that can’t really fit it all too well, since in the arms of maybe a Wizkid, this could end up a lot better. Oh, and Drake should continue to be embarrassed about every little thing he does until eventually he becomes this shameless deity figure that only exists as a figment of our imagination and is a distant memory in everyone who remembers the past wrath of Aubrey Graham.

Conclusion

It’s not getting Worst of the Week though, as that goes to “Mona Lisa” by Dominic Fike, though J Hus and Drake bag the Dishonourable Mention. The rest is mostly decent, but I really did love listening to “So Much in Love” so D.O.D. gets the Best of the Week, and as much as I’d want to ensure that both positive titles went to dance songs, I think Tom Grennan just pips the trio to the post with “How Does it Feel”. Overall, a surprisingly good week, and I have no idea what’s ahead of us until Olivia Rodrigo returns, so for now, thank you for reading and I’ll see you next week!

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pearbody-squareheads · 2 years

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20/08/22 (356 words)

64.551 words, 208 pages

Went to the city center, got a bubble tea and sat at a table to read one of the homework books. Then went to Feltrinelli to look around in the music section. Wandered through vynils for a while, mostly found old stuff. Tons of Doors, Beatles, David Bowie, Ennis Morricone, some Iron Maiden, tons of Harry Styles, and a single copy of Scaled And Icy. No signs of Trench, which was still there last time I went there before leaving in July. There were a young girl and her mother next to me, the girl was leafing the vynils too, so I asked her if she was looking for a specific one and she said no, just browsing. And you? Same, I answered. I saw and heard her handling a Venom album and showing it to her mother while I was going through metal bands stuff, then I moved to the cd section after seeing there were no Tool vynils. I was in the metal/rock section when the two followed me, as the girl was looking for the cd version of the Venom album she had found earlier. I pointed it to her once I saw the same cover sue had in her hand few minutes before, she said thank you and:

"You have good taste, I saw you checking Alice in Chains before and Tool (cds) now!" To which I tried telling her that actually I don't know Alice In Chains, I only heard about them and I was curious but... I don't think she heard me. They were from Florence and the girl kept repeating to her mother "this place is so furnished, in Florence we can only dream this". Later I pointed the checkout to them and walked out. Nice girl, I wish I could have exchanged some more about music as she looked like she could advice me some good stuff. Felt morally obliged, once out of the shop I tried to listen to a couple AIC songs... nah, don't like. But I tried Slipknot and hey, surprisingly I don't mind. As a background more than a soundtrack, mid to low volume, I can listen to hem for a while despite being so heavy for my taste.

Also exhumed GoT's OST this night. Been months since last time I listened to it.

Also, Layla ended up making a hole in my skull to build its house in, and it's not gonna leave soon.

ALSO

Feltrinelli is everything ok?

#ruben one #alice in chains #tool #venom #slipknot #feltrinelli #metal

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laura-ann-review · 2 years

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Sneak peek

Wattpad

Inkitt

Chapter One

Lila opened her front door, she watched as Harry flips through A Little Less Conversation, a magazine that she had been receiving for almost two years from an unknown source.

"Get this, Corl is pregnant with his first child." He laughed "Look at this really bad photoshop." He showed Lila the worst photoshop job of Corl; the once famous singer who gave up on his career, Corl's hands looked thinned out as it touched what was supposed to look like a pregnant male stomach with abs.

Lila breathed out her laugh through her nose, she had seen the stories A Little Less Conversation had printed, at first she had gotten a kick out of it but now she understood the point of the magazine.

"What about this one!? Singer, P!nk has left her husband. Sources say the artist finally had enough of Carey Hart. They have four children together, now adults." Harry rolled his eyes at the image of a 40 year old P!nk holding suitcases walks away from a house. "Isn't she on tour?"

Lila nodded "100th album."

"So, she didn't walk out than? She's just on tour and dude, her babies probably have...wait, what generation would her kids have?"

Lila rolled her eyes at her friend "I love when you read these." She rested on the door frame.

"Whoever's been giving you these is a legend. I need a copy." Harry continued to flick through the magazine.

"Are you going to come in or not?" Lila watched as Harry tried to get comfortable on the hover porch swing.

Harry shrugged "Do you have anymore?"

Lila turned her attention to the bundled pile of A Little Less Conversation by her doorway before looking at Harry who seemed too lap up the poor photoshop job throughout the magazine.

"Incoming!" Screamed a voice coming from the mailbox.

Harry ignored the voice as Lila calmly walked towards it.

She watched as her mailbox shook itself softly before spitting out a new copy of A Little Less Conversation and a blue envelope.

"Harry!" She called out to him as she moved back up to the porch.

Harry ignored Lila; she threw the magazine at him.

His eyes lit up as he looked at the cover of magazine. The front cover was blank, but the title of the magazine slowly faded onto the front cover, the headlines of the magazine began to seep through the front cover before the main image of the once famous Cirialle; an actress who had her career ruined due to the reveal of her body being full of plastic. Cirialle was the queen of screen when Earth 0.19 existed, it wasn't until Earth 0.22 when she was only 30 years old that her career finally ended.

Harry watched as the headline for Cirialle came up, Screen Queen legend has passed away. Age 2million. He sighed as he looked up at Lila.

Lila was too busy focusing on the paper in her hands, she looked at the hand gestures drawn on the paper which spelled out we need to talk.

She looked at Harry, she noticed tears rolling down his face. "Would you like to meet the legend who gives me these?"

"I thought you said you didn't know?"

"Well, the legend wanted to remain anonymous." Lila lied.

Harry wiped his face as he jumped to his feet, he started to make his way off the porch.

"Where are you going?" Lila asked as she watched him make his way towards the flickering footpath.

"You said.." Harry seemed confused.

"This way." She walked into the house.

Harry didn't understand what was going on as he chased after Lila, he followed her through the house.

They both ignored the people in her photos pulling silly faces as they hung on the walls.

She pushed open her bedroom door, ignoring the blinds as they zipped open and as her blanket revealed her pink sheet.

"How does your room help me meet the legend?" Harry looked around at Lila's room, he watched Lila open a wooden cupboard door. "Lila?" he watched as she parted her clothes revealing the back of the cupboard wall.

Lila triple knocked quickly on the back wall of the cupboard.

Harry stepped closer to her cupboard as he watched, thinking he was friend was going insane. His jaw dropped when he noticed the backwall of the cupboard slide open.

Lila gestured with her hands thanking the green knee high creature who sat proudly on a wooden stool.

Harry couldn't see past the green creature, all he could see was pitch black as he squinted his eyes trying to see anything, something.

Lila signed with her hands Maverick.

Maverick looked Harry up and down, the green creature returned their attention to Lila before signing What is that?

Lila turned her attention to Harry as he used his hands as binoculars to try to see something further into the pitch black. She returned her attention to Maverick before signing my friend, his fine.

Maverick looked at the male human, Maverick didn't trust him.

"Harry, come follow." Lila softly spoke as Maverick jumped from the chair, leading Lila into the pitch black.

Harry stepped through the cupboard; the cupboard door quickly slid shut. He jumped then touched what he hoped was Lila's shoulder "Lila?" he whispered.

"Let go of me, Harry. Your fine, just stay close." She hushed.

A crack of soft light opened, Maverick stepped into the elevator, Lila stepped inside while Harry hesitated before noticing Lila and Maverick's look; both impatient with him.

Harry hurried to Lila's side.

Maverick pressed a blue circle, the crack of soft light disappeared.

Harry began to scream as he felt the elevator drop down.

Maverick stood proudly in its spot as Lila reached for the handle.

Lila remembered the first time she had been in this particular elevator, she at first had freaked out until she discovered the handle that helped her not move.

The soft crack of light appeared again.

Lila placed her hand to her chin than gently pressed her hand forward in a slightly arch to thank Maverick.

Lila turned her attention to Harry, whose still screaming. "You need to stop screaming."

Harry finally controlled his screams as his eyes widen, noticing more green creatures like Maverick expect these ones wore human clothes fitted to their small stature, some of the green creatures wore wigs on top of their heads.

A green creature in a white rhinestone dress with a blonde pompadour wig, stepped up to Lila and Harry, the green creature gestured with her hands to Lila. Boss wants to see you.

Lila nodded slightly; she turned her attention to Harry who was lost for words. "Harry, whatever you do, don't speak." She begged as she stepped out of the elevator.

Harry nodded as he swallowed his fear, he cautiously stepped out of the soft light before it disappeared.

Lila smiled politely at the green creatures she passed; she was bad at remembering names especially with the creatures who continuously experimented with their looks.

She stepped past an empty desk as Harry struggled to understand who the green creatures were.

Lila took a deep breath before slowly exhaling, she knocked on the door labelled with BOSS.

The door swung open; Harry followed Lila into the orange lit room.

Harry could barely make out the items in the room, he wasn't sure if there was a desk or a box sitting in the middle of the room. He could barely make out the hard covered book spines floating against the walls.

He jumped a little as he noticed a giant shadow appear on the wall, he reached for Lila's hand as he kept his focus on the shadow. He watched as the shadow moved towards them, fear ran through his body as Lila stood motionless.

Harry's eyes dropped to the floor when he noticed the shadow came from a knee-high green creature.

The green creature looked like Maverick expect this creature's face looked more squashed together.

The green creature hurriedly signed with its thin fingers You brought someone. This is an important mission; you can't just bring anymore!

Lila tried to sign back as best as she good his not anyone, a friend. Willing to help in exchange for a subscription.

The green creature looked up at Harry, Harry peered from behind Lila at the green creature.

"Who are you!?" The green creature's boomed through the office.

Harry was surprised to hear how deep and loud the voice was "I'm Harry, you?" He showed himself to the creature.

"Boss." The green creature's voice boomed as Boss clicked their thin fingers.

The room went dark, Harry tighten his grip on Lila's hand.

Lila bit down on her lower lip to refrain from making a sound as she felt her hand pain from Harry's grip.

A white orb appeared in the room; rhinestones glistened around the walls before shifting into a shape of a white jumpsuit.

"We need you to capture The King."

Lila listened as Harry loosened his grip on her hand.

"We can't kill the King, have you seen what they did to the people who killed the Queen?" Harry admitted.

Boss knew humans were stupid but didn't believe they could be this stupid. "The King, The King. Not King George, The KING." Boss's voice boomed, the white rhinestone shaped image shook.

Harry seemed confused.

Boss looked at the white rhinestone image "He needs to come home, his time is done. We gave what we could, pushing as much back as we could but it's time for him to give his final bow and let someone else have their revival."

The white rhinestone image shifted into back into an orb, the rhinestones glistened around the room before returning to the orb that had now shifted into a bright image of Elvis Presley.

Harry dropped his jaw as he looked at the image.

Lila took in the sight of Elvis Presley; she had heard the rumours but had never had the opportunity to meet the famous King.

#finding elvis #mywriting #author #writer #inkitt #wattpad #lauraannreviews #3rd july 2022 #elvis presley

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rdalestude · 2 years

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Late Night Listening: One Fair Summer Evening, Nanci Griffith

I grew up with country music. It was the music that played around my household growing up, mainly because of or local AM radio station. I was dimly aware of other types of music out there, but really, outside of the Monkees, because I watched those episodes in syndication constantly, I had little exposure to non-country music. And it was a very shallow relationship, basically limited to whatever came out of that radio. Johnny Cash, sure. Tammy Wynette, Charlie Pride, Roger Miller, Merle Haggard, Loretta Lynn, all listened to during my youth, but likely less than a half dozen tunes by any of them, again limited to what was on the radio. The first country star I had more than a shallow acquaintance with was Kenny Rogers. We got an eight-track stereo, and other than some K-tel country collections, we had Kenny Rogers albums. Daytime Friends, to be exact. Pre-Gambler. So, I became a Kenny Rogers fan by default.

At the same time, I was beginning to notice mainstream rock, because of more exposure due to Junior High and High School, and because I got the sense I looked like a rube to my peers. I’m not sure Kenny Rogers helped, because talented as the guy was, there was little about the music he began putting out that screamed “country.” It seemed like it was country because country radio played it, and that was that. Much of the country music of the late 70s was like it, play to the masses, get on Hee Haw, and sell the records. Somehow, I sensed this, and lost interest, or succumbed to peer pressure, or both.

Fast forward to college, because this essay is already showing some signs of bloat. I was at the University of Missouri – Rolla then, failing at being an engineering student. I found one of my best friends ever at that school and discovered that I was more interested in doing little theatre productions than calculus, so I acquired some knowledge of self. The other big thing that happened to me during that time was a work study job at the local NPR station, KUMR, housed in the campus library. One of the shifts I regularly worked was the Saturday evening shift. Saturday evenings were pretty big because Prairie Home Companion was at that time one of the biggest things in Public Radio, so to keep those hours felt like a big responsibility. When PHC ended for the night, the next show up was Bluegrass for a Saturday Night, hosted by Wayne Bledsoe.

Professor Bledsoe taught history at the University and devoted 3 hours of nearly every weekend to programming bluegrass music for the Ozark airways. He’d have call in shows, and I would help pull records from the library, and I would occasionally help him pre-record a show if he were going on vacation. As inadvertent payback, I received a crash course in bluegrass – Bill Monroe, The Carter Family, Ralph Stanley, the Dillards, and so on. He also championed a few New Traditional performers, as they called them back then, like Emmylou Harris, and Nanci Griffith.

The album we were playing back then of Nanci’s was Once in a Very Blue Moon, which I pirated onto a tape that is long lost, and the album itself is hard to find (I don’t think her Rounder albums are in print), so the album of hers I turn to now is her live album recorded at Anderson Fair in Austin, One Fair Summer Evening. Everything good about her is on this album, her humor, her gentle but powerful voice, and her songwriting, and cover interpreting strengths. Her singing on the chorus of “Deadwood, South Dakota” (a song written by her ex-husband) gives me chills to this day. I even laugh with her corny jokes about Woolworths, although it is easier knowing that it’s the lead in to one of her best songs, “Love at the Five and Dime.”

Wayne Bledsoe, Nanci Griffith, Emmylou Harris were my gateway drug into what is now loosely classified as Americana Music, sort of a catch all for roots music, blues, bluegrass, folk and a type of country music that differentiates itself from the Nashville mainstream. I’m not going to rehash authenticity arguments and I’m not sure Steve Earle is any more authentic than Toby Keith. I personally, fell into this rabbit hole of great music and never looked back. Thank you, Wayne Bledsoe.

#late night listening #nanci griffith #One Fair Summer Evening #Americana #Folk #Country

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finelinevogue · 2 years

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Blurb idea!!! (Totally ignore if you don't want to do this) So what if y/n does a video where she rates all of the outfits Harry has worn for the 3rd album (like Coachella, interview outfits, any casuals too, etc etc) and maybe she doesn't really like an outfit as much but then H pops his head in and claims that she actually really liked the fabric or smth and wanted to keep it (and he obviously got it for here) but she's like it didn't look as good on you (clearly joking) and he's like you're mean with a pouty face >:( and we see them being really cute on camera (or it could be released as a bts) So yeah! Idk why but I can totally imagine y/n and Harry from your Harry's House universe doing this!!

Also, the stuff you put out so far is AMAZING! Just like I knew it would be, but you definitely exceeded my expectations and I'm already in love with this universe! <3

-cool reader anon

OMG I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH YOU’RE A FUCKING GENIUS! I LOVE YOU SO BAD FOR SENDING THIS IN:

(stop it right now you know im so bad at taking compliments💔ur too kind)

May 20th 2022

“Hello my lovelies and welcome back for another video of me basically bashing H.”

The camera was set up on your usual tripod, only this time you weren’t in your bedroom but rather the living room. You thought it might be nice to show people a different view; something interesting and new. Also it was a sneaky way of showing people Harry’s living room, which certain furniture would feature on his new album cover.

Harry was sat next to you, because no matter how hard he persuaded you to you were not going to sit on his lap. Everyone knew you were a couple, in fact ‘Glamour’ had labelled you both as the “It” couple of 2022, but you didn’t want to overdo it on the PDA. Plus this was your channel through your own hard work and success, not Harry’s.

“You know someone’s made a complication of all the moments in your videos where you’re mean to me?” Harry said, getting out his phone to pull up the moment he was talking about.

“No way! Really?”

“Yeah, here.” Harry showed you and you made a mental note to add a screenshot of the account when you edited later.

“That makes me look so bad.”

“Good. Y’so mean to me. I’m glad it’s picked up on.”

“You’re just mean to me off camera though, that’s why there’s no video compilation of you being mean to me.”

Harry just evilly smirked and you knew in your head that would be a good place to cut and roll your channels titles. The jingle for your channel was courtesy of Harry playing the piano, which he did without hesitation when you had asked him years ago.

“So, today we will be rating Harry’s outfits from the HS3 era so far. I thought it would be a fun idea, considering I am uploading this on the albums release day.”

“Oh, and we should probably mention that pictures that we’re looking through are coming from costume fittings.”

“So I’m very deeply sorry if you end up seeing H’s bare chest.”

Harry laughed, pretending to lift the bottom of his jumper up and reveal his chest. You got too jealous of your audience seeing his chest though, so you slapped his hands down and told him to behave himself.

You knew it was all banter and Harry’s relationship with his fans was very close and intimate, but sometimes you liked keeping little moments of him to yourself. You were a huge fan of him before this relationship so you totally understood what it was like to be a fan like that, but now you’ve learnt how to respect him and in turn respect yourself.

Harry knew that you got jealous, so tried as much as possible to keep himself and his body reversed just for you. Sometimes though, when you’re pissing him off he will go shirtless just because he knows it will rile you up.

“I’m actually excited for this, y’know?” Harry said, sitting closer to you. You shifted the camera so there would be a space to the left side of the screen for you to edit in a picture of the outfit you were talking about.

“What and you weren’t excited when we filmed all our other videos?”

“I liked the one we did when we did the fake Wired Autocomplete interview.”

“That was funny. I also liked the one where we were handcuffed to each other for 24 hours.”

“I got so mad at you and I really did not like it one bit. You were so upset. Plus I hurt your wrists that day.”

He pouted and you allowed him to swallow you in a huge bear hug. He always felt the need to apologise for those 24 hours, because of his tense it got. You constantly reminded him you still loved him and you were okay now. He would take any opportunity to hug you though for it.

“I’m okay.”

“I know.”

“Y’want to hold me for the rest of this video?” You asked, knowing he wouldn’t really want to let you go now his mind was whirring with bad thoughts over that video.

Harry moved behind you and allowed his legs to spread so you could slide and sit in between them. His arms caged around your waist and squeezed gently, turning you into his person human-sized teddy bear. You let him nuzzle his face into your neck briefly, knowing your scent calmed him down. Once you were comfortable and Harry could nicely peer over your shoulder at your phone, you began.

“Okay. First of all is your ‘As It Was’ red jumpsuit.”

“It was so comfortable, that.” Harry added.

“I really liked it. I thought it was a perfect outfit to celebrate a new single.”

“You’re just being biased.” He teased, pinching your side in a way that tickled.

“Why? Because m’mum made it for you?” You asked and he nodded.

Your mum was always looking for an in to assist Harry’s life in some way. She loved being creative and was a brilliant seamstress, after owning her own dress repair shop for years. You remember her bursting into tears when you and Harry face-timed her to ask her to make the ‘As It Was’ music video outfits. She was told they had to be red and blue, but other than that she had a free hand.

Harry had told her that they were the best costumes that he’d ever worn for a video. You still don’t know whether he was just being polite or actually meant it, but either way it made your mum infinitely smile.

“Honestly, y’mums a bloody legend.” He added, making you blush. You loved how much he loved your mum and family.

“So the outfit out of 10?”

“10.” He spoke very quickly.

“I’ll give you a 10 also mum. Y’d did such a good job.” You looked to the camera when you said that, holding up your hands to create a little heart with them.

Out of all the outfits you’d be showing today the ‘As It Was’ was definitely not your favourite, but it was still worth the 10 points. Your mum was a great seamstress, but you just liked the colours of some other outfits on him better than the red - which was out of your mums control.

“Off to a good start then.” He shuffled a bit to sit up right on the sofa after slouching down.

“Y’okay? Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable.” You turned your head to see whether there were any signs of discomfort on his face.

“Y’not, shut up you.” He leant in to kiss your lips. He tasted so good and he felt even better.

Unfortunately for the fans you’d have to cut that out because it wasn’t very censored. Harry can get carried away a lot of the time because of how much he likes kissing you and so a sweet kiss can turn into a groping make out session. Like now. You had to pull away as he started kissing down your neck and dangerously close to the place he loved giving you hickeys.

“Oi. Stop it.”

“Y/N!” He whined like a baby, but you weren’t arguing.

“H I can’t be battered and bruised when we’re filming, y’know this.”

“Can’t help myself. You’re too pretty.” You leant in to give him another kiss for his kind compliment and then turned your face around to lessen temptation.

“Okay outfit two. Coachella night one.” You giggled excitedly, because the Coachella outfits were your ultimate favourites.

“I loved how they designed it based off y’mum’s design.” Harry started and it made your heart swoon that he was still finding ways to compliment your mum.

“You looked like a rockstar rainbow dream.”

“I felt like a rockstar actually. I can’t get over that crowd.” He blew out a breathe of air.

“What was it like?” You asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to give your viewers a chance to know too.

“Electrifying. Huge. Exhilarating. I never thought I’d ever be able to achieve something like that. Ever. So to actually to sit here and say that I have done it feels like a dream.”

You smiled at him and leaned in to give him a kiss on his cheek. He deserved so much more, but you were filming right now and you’d give him all the love after.

“So what would you rate your night one outfit?”

“Wait, lets talk about night twos outfit and then compare them.”

“So we get to talk about what we think of night twos outfit now?”

“Yes.”

Before Harry had finished the word, you dramatically moaned and loosened your body to slide off Harry and the sofa and onto the floor. Harry caught your armpits before you could fully slide, worried that you’d bash your head on the coffee table or something.

“That’s how I feel about night two.”

“Oh is it now?” Harry asked, but he already knew.

He knew because as soon as he walked off that stage, on night two, you jumped his bones and wouldn’t let him leave the premises before you fucked him in his pink, leather, Cowboy suit. He looked so good to the point where you were wet the entire of the set, since you hadn’t seen the outfit before he went on stage. You two had nearly been the last ones in the park, because once you’d done one thing to Harry he decided to return to the favour. You fucked, you gave each other head and you came so many times that Harry asked to keep the suit so he could relive that night over and over again.

Harry pulled your back up easily to sit back on his lap, twisting you sideways slightly so he could get a better view of you.

“It’s like my favourite thing you’ve ever worn.”

“Wow. Big claim.” Harry whistled.

“Okay maybe my favourite concert outfit you’ve ever worn.” You adjusted your statement.

“So it was better than night one?”

“Yes.” You said a bit too quickly, feeling slightly bad for the designer of night one. “I still adored night one, but there was something about night two that really… gagged me?”

Harry choked on air when you said that and you couldn’t help but laugh. You patted his back as if that was going to do anything, before he settled.

“How about I wear it tonight?” He leant in to whisper in your ear. All you could do was whimper in return and he used the opportunity to kiss your lips. You let him have you for a few minutes, think that at this rate it will look like you’re filming for OnlyFans rathe than YouTube.

“So rating them both out of 10.” You suggested.

“Night one was an 8 for me. Night two was a 10.”

“I’d say night one was also an 8. Night two was a fucking 11 though.” You claimed and Harry just smirked, knowing he was in for a pretty great evening.

Harry cuddled into you, giving you a big squeeze when all he really wanted to do was take you upstairs and love on you all afternoon.

“Ow you just squashed my boob, y’dickhead.” You shouted as Harry’s hand jabbed into your boob as you two were messing around.

“Shit, m’sorry baby. Harry reached for your boob and cupped his hand over it as his fork of apology.

“I’m fine.”

“Promise?” He asked, kissing your cheek.

“Promise.” You nodded, kissing him on his cheek in return. “Next outfit?”

“Go for it.”

He returned you back to your original positions and you took your phone to look at the next outfits.

You had a look at some street style ones and Harry laughed at how crazy some of the paparazzi were. There were some really odd angles and one that was a really unflattering angle of you. You could’ve cried but Harry reminded you of how beautiful he saw you as and that every one else did too. It didn’t matter that you had double chins or an extra chub roll on your stomach, you were absolutely perfect the way you are.

You even added a few outfits where you and Harry bad spent the day together and he had a good outfit. You loved feeding the fans with unreleased content and they loved you for it. You had such a special bond with the fans, something that no other celebrities partner really had. There was one where he was wearing a kitchen apron and a pair of pink boxers, because you two had been baking a cake together, and you both had a good laugh about how bad a photo it was.

“Baby stop!” Harry laughed some more, hand over his stomach because he couldn’t control himself very well.

“Sorry! It’s just you honestly look like you’re a housewife.” You giggled, stroking his cheek with your hand. “My little bitch.”

“Excuse you!” He gasped, using his free hand to slap your arse. The sound made such a loud noise and you gasped with how hard he hit you.

“Ow y’fucking twat!”

“You have such a bad potty mouth, you.”

You weren’t worried about the swearing, because you always put a disclaimer at the start of your videos that there could be strong language so you should watch at your own risk. You weren’t bothered about profiting off your videos either, so you weren’t worried if the swearing caused YouTube to demonetise your content.

“Yeah. I do when you slap me.”

“Don’t call me y’bitch then.” He argued and you rolled your eyes at him. He knew he was your bitch. He was absolutely whipped for you and there was no denying that, even if he tried.

It took you another few moments of banter before you were back on track.

“So let’s do the Today show outfits?” You suggested.

“Yes let’s.”

“I absolutely love the denim on denim.” You started, “But I don’t like the curly twirly baby grow.”

“Honey!” He exclaimed, sitting up right with shock.

“What? We have to be honest.” You explained.

“Not when it offends me. Can’t believe you’d treat me like this.”

“But I love your denim one. Is that not enough?” You pouted, not wanting him to be actually mad with you.

“Fine. But you owe me a fuck tonne of kisses.”

You leant in to kiss him on his lips, clearing any sadness out of his system. You could feel his lips smiling against yours and it made you pull away to see the beautiful sight.

“Done deal.”

“Can we wrap this up so I can kiss y’now?” He tucked his head into your neck so that he could breathe you in.

“‘Course.”

You both finished up the video, using your normal exit as a way to wrap everything up. You fell into Harry, happy knowing that the video was going to be a success because of how in love you both were with each other.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #finelinevogue #harry blurb #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harrys house #harrys house finelinevogue #harrys house masterlist #harrys house youtube video #harry styles fluff #finelinevogue masterlist

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foxes-that-run · 6 months

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Lover

The Lover video, the title track from Lover, is also brimming with Haylor references, some from Harry's later videos. Starting in Green the Benjamin photo is a reference to Olivia in Me!

Orange room they are on the ceiling, like the cover of Harry's house

The games are a reference to Scrabble, which Harry loves. Taylor also references playing Scrabble with Harry by text in the End Game Making of. Harry has posted about Scrabble on Insta and again in 2015 and again a game with his mum in 2013, in this video and photos by Georgina Fowler in 2013 and this collection of Harry's scrabble board photos.

The other games are lyric references, After glow is an apology, paired with king of my heart a YB song. On a scrabble board in a song about an affair.:.. my theory is that about half of this album and Harry’s Fine Line is about a Haylor affair. Breakable heaven & devils roll, are from cruel summer.

At dinner they eat Spaghetti, which Harry also eats in late night talking. This is an odd one, but the same joke was in this scene as this fan mail interview. When Harry reads it he seems surprised, then gets it and smiles.

The Red room features New Years Day, with the party and glitter on the floor after. He looks sad because they broke up after rather than staying to clean up bottles. 💔 However, in lover they have matured and commit in their own rules (not the 1950’s shit people want from her) so alls well that ends well to end up with you. ❤️ The beau's jacket references a Live on Tour suit of Harrys from Summer 2018.

The Style Video is referenced in the video projector room. This is also in the Lyric video for the song and both reference the home movies used in Style and 1989 promos.

The Fishbowl room is about Taylor's life being in a fish bowl and the muse being willing to jump into it. This is a Haylor Reference because Harry did, whereas other partners have been very private. Harry referenced this scene in the Adore You video where he had a fish that kept getting unmanageably large as he kept doing everything he can to care for it. The Adore Lyrics include: "Honey (ah) / I'd walk through fire for you / Just let me adore you" meaning he will jump in the bowl.

Taylor's yellow dress is very similar to Harry's yellow bird in Daylight.

Lyrics

In diary of a song Taylor tells how she wrote the lyrics in a night in Nashville flew to New York and finished the song that day. She said the song was about putting a spin on typical marriage themes. While often attributed to Joe, the title of ‘lover’ means not boyfriend/husband. The comments on a spin relate to committing to a non traditional relationship. She posted a bizarre thanks to Scott b in that same shirt when she changed label in nov 2018, though that date she was in Tokyo. It looks like maybe an earlier photo recording lover.

youtube

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January And this is our place, we make the rules And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

In diary of a song Taylor said the first line is about making your own rules. The initial lyric was leaving the lights up till April. Taylor is telling us this is a non-traditional relationship where they set the rules.

20 seconds/20 years is referenced in Taylors Daylight. 20 (13+7) is in many Haylor songs. Mysterious ways is similar to in So it Goes Taylor refers to her muse as "my magician".

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my Lover

Can I go where you go is a reference to wanting to be together despite their careers keeping them apart. Harry and Taylor have a lot lyrics about distance keeping them apart (Come back, be here, If I Could Fly, Love of my Life, Canyon Moon)

We could let our friends crash in the living room This is our place, we make the call And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

When Harry and Taylor were first together neither had a fixed address, they spent a lot of time in hotels and referred to each other as home (Sweet Creature) They also both bought their current houses in that time, which explains the young adult lyric.

Taylor and Joe had been together for 3 summers, so maybe YB. However the song title is 'lover' not 'boyfriend' and she sings summers, not years. HS and TS had also been together for 3 summers: 2012, August 2013 & 2014. Other maybe times are fall 2016 and winter 2018 not Summer.

Gold Rush also talks about feeling suspicious that people who see Harry want him. It would have been very hard even for a popstar for a 23 year old to date this guy:

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

In diary a song Taylor talked about a spin on marriage vows, like paper rings these songs are saying she will not marry either beau, one her lover who she wishes she could follow everywhere and the other her ‘not-shiny available boyfriend’

Taylor also uses Magnetic to describe her muse in Gorgeous, there in the context of not being able to hold back from them. Taylor also describes Harry as Magnetic in suburban legends.

The borrowed heart refers to the other people Taylor has dated during the on/off period. A blue heart is a reference to depression, something Harry has sung about in Falling and HS1. Blue is also the colour of 1989.

They are both overdramatic and true to each other. This line in particular separates YB and HS as the muse, YB is decidedly not overdramatic and seemed to tolerate it in TS.

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever) You're my, my, my, my Oh, you're my, my, my, my Darling, you're my, my, my, my Lover

In diary of a song Taylor talks about “can I go where you go” as a profound question, which it is if going where your lover goes means giving up one of your massive careers and engaging with Stan’s and tabloids. As explored in Anti-hero and Peace Taylor’s career is big enough to make anything hard, but the wording here of going where her beau goes implies the muse has their own challenges beyond hers. Taylor asking how can we make it work and fit in our lives together, how can we protect this connection.

Take me home, is in Style: "So it goes / He can't keep his wild eyes on the road, mm / Takes me home / The lights are off, he's taking off his coat, mm, yeah" they also sing about home a lot.

Finally, my "Lover" means a partner in a sexual or romantic relationship outside marriage, AKA not her BF.

#taylor swift #lover album #haylor

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larrylimericks · 2 years

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23Mar22

Welcome Home Edition Two words had the whole world upended; “Harry’s House” was confirmed (as portended)— With a toppled facade, A Buster Keaton nod, On a stage where bold stunts are pretended.

Sorry to break character but ... The Buster Keaton (Steamboat Bill, Jr.) parallel has me floored (house pun intended). It’s Buster Keaton’s most famous stunt. Stunt. He performed it himself. It had to be carefully planned and precisely executed, to the point his shoes were nailed in place*. He couldn’t move if he wanted to. HE COULDN’T MOVE IF HE WANTED TO. *Updating to correct this to: Two nails were put in the ground to mark where his feet would go, not actually nailed through his shoes (from Buster Keaton: A Filmmaker’s Life). But the point still stands that he was locked in position. In the announcement video, Harry is literally on a stage, literally performing a stunt as the house facade falls. And it does fall, rather than rise, over him. The traffic arrow changing from red to yellow is the clue to reverse the video. If we watch it forward, it starts with the daffodil—a narcissus, a symbol of vanity (and who is a narcissistic asshole?). But if we watch it in reverse, it ends with the daffodil, also a symbol of rebirth and hope ... and Louis’ favorite flower (as reported by a fan who asked him at a signing in 2020). In the end, he is and always will be with Louis. All while he stands there and performs the stunt with a subdued and knowing smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. And in perfect choose-your-own-adventure form, many fans (solos) are reading the video as Harry’s expression that he feels at home on stage. Which he obviously does. But it’s a cursory and easy reading. The reverse provides the subtext (where Larries live and die and thrive and anguish). Also ... yes, he’s wearing a traditionally feminine blouse and challenging gender norms. But it’s specifically a Peter Pan collar, which got its name from the costume Maude Adams wore for a Broadway production of Peter Pan in 1905. (She was a lesbian and played Peter in a gender-bending role.) So, an allusion to another stage performance and to queer culture (and I will low-key celebrate it as a nod to his Peter Pan of a husband).

#larry #harry #harry styles #hs3 #harry's house #buster keaton #stunts #the yah account tweeted 'welcome home'#and the youarehome.co door opened to a scene of harry #which ended up being the album cover for harry's house #in which he appear right side up while the furniture in the room hangs from the ceiling #and the objects from the ads show up:#the vase of tulips #the plate of eggs by the lamp #there's also a chair and couch #and we see the arched door but we're inside the room now #so much stuff #so much symbolism #too much for limericks and tags #and christ now i need to go limerick about his iceland hot springs husband #limerick-hs #march 23 #2022 #olivia apparently posted the keaton clip in october of 2020 #shortly before the stunt went into action #i'm sure she'll find a way to co-opt this #and the little styleswilders will believe olivia breathed keaton into existence #updated the post with more thorough research about how keaton held his mark for the stunt

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holyshit · 2 years

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Hiii! I know you’re doing a live listen rn so i thought I’d send you some of my opinions!

Cinema: i love this so much! the reference to her is the song being called cinema. honestly at the end of the day i don’t care if people make it about her, its a love song with a funky beat and i really love it.

Daydream: this song is literally about wanting to be with someone as long as you can so that when you have to be away from them you can dream about them. There’s one lyric that goes ‘she said love me like you pay me/you know I’ll be gone for so long/so give me all of your love give me something to dream about’ which caught me off guard when i first heard it, but again its an amazing song(thats gonna be a theme here), i love the backing vocals on this song as well

Daylight: this song is giving Zayn’s third album vibes. There are a lot of references to blue in this song, bluebird, blue bicycle.. do with that what you will. There’s also a lovely reference to doing coke in his kitchen, which took me off guard. The main vibe of this song is that he can only see the person he’s talking about under the cover of darkness, so he’s cursing the daylight. At the end of the song he says ‘daylight, you got me calling at all times’ sort of like he loves this person so much he doesn’t want to stay hidden, he wants to be with them at all times. Again love the song-potentially one of my favourites.

Grape Juice: I’m not gonna lie, i could barely understand him in this one, but the gist of it is him proclaiming his love for a bottle of wine. genuinely. he talks about not being able to get through without a bottle of rouge (1982). It cracked me up the first time i listened to it, just because of how out there it is, but i feel like its got a deeper meaning. Again loved it, but not one of my favourites.

Keep Driving: this one is quite summery, but it kind of talks about the highs and lows of a relationship and choosing to continue ‘we’ve held darkness/we’ve held clouds’ ‘should we keep on driving’ also more references to drugs and multiple references to a girl ‘side boob’ ‘choke her/choker with a sea view’. However it also says ‘I will always love you’ which isn’t a sentiment you would expect from a man with supposedly multiple short relationships. It’s more a sentiment you would expect after multiple years. Again one of my favourites.

Little Freak: this song made me cry. Lots of blue green references. ‘Stay green a little while/you bring blue lights to dreams’ its a very dreamy song, talking about paranoia, not being enough for someone but still loving them from afar. Wondering about what they’re doing constantly, hoping to see them soon. It’s honestly such a sad, dreamy song about being so in love with someone. Talks about falling too hard and too fast and potentially hurting the person you love. It’s honestly a beautiful song. Potentially my favourite.

Love of my Life: this is the song ‘a familiar soundtrack played in reverse’ is about. The music is from the Harry’s house announcement video played backwards. Also made me cry. Big reference to a hidden relationship ‘take you with me every time i go away/in a hotel using someone else’s name’. talks about falling in love and knowing that someone is the only one for you. Also talks about having to leave someone behind and not always knowing where they are so having to love them from afar.

Mathilde: about someone being treated wrong, trying to fly without the right resources, but trying and trying again and smiling like ‘its no big deal’. Talks about ‘mathilde’ talking about pain like its all okay, but harry knowing that a piece of them is dead inside. Mathilde is referenced having a power to bring sun to the darkest days. He says ‘anywhere you go, you don’t need a reason, cause they never showed you love, you don’t have to be sorry for doing it on your known’ which made me cry. The main aspect of the song is family and others not supporting this person, and harry is trying to reassure them that they can let it go and they don’t have to feel guilty. This is such a deep song, talking about longing, guilt and love and honestly its beautiful. Definitely in my top 3.

Music for a sushi restaurant: i love this song! It’s so different to anything else we usually here from him. It’s the type of beat that has you dancing! And the backing is amazing. Lots of trumpets. It’s very jazzy and just about being with someone you love. Honestly one of the best songs on the album.

Satellite: about communication, knowing you want this person and they’ll pull you in but needing to talk to them. Talks about going round in circles and knowing you’ll always give in to this person. Waiting for them all night, and wishing you could be there for them when they’re lonely.

What I’ve gained from this album is harry is a sap and he enjoys making his fans cry.

oooh thank you, this was really interesting to read because i'm in such a tizzy that i can barely process any of the lyrics right now and have only focused on the sound! can't wait to really dig into it myself

#asks #hkanes #hs3 spoilers #hs3 leak liveblog

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?”

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?” Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,” you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

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deadcactuswalking · 2 years

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REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 27/08/2022 (Aitch/Ed Sheeran)

It was a decently close race, but LF SYSTEM are at #1 for an eighth week on the UK Singles Chart with “Afraid to Feel”, and welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

Outside of a couple big debuts, this is a pretty slow week, and I mean really slow, even if some of the traction or momentum within the songs already on the chart is pretty promising. We still have to – as always – start with our notable dropouts, songs exiting the UK Top 75 – which is what I cover – after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40. There aren’t many of those either: “Jimmy Cooks” by Drake featuring 21 Savage is out after being eclipsed by “Massive” (which similarly had a large decrease this week), and “Dandelions” by Ruth B. is gone after 30 weeks without even hitting the top 40.

In terms of the songs filling in to replace them, well, we have at least two new big arrivals that might stand a chance, but of course, we have our notable gains and returning entries. “2 Be Loved (Am I Ready)” by Lizzo and “Another Love” by Tom Odell are back at #71 and #70 respectively, and then of course we have the gains: “Atlantis” by Seafret at #68, “Matilda” by Harry Styles at #56, “Victoria’s Secret” by Jax at #53 (kill me), “Yellow” by Coldplay of all songs at #52 off of the return last week, “KU LO SA – A COLORS SHOW” by Oxlade at #50, “Mary on a Cross” by Ghost at #43, “Turn On the Lights again..” by Fred again.. and Swedish House Mafia featuring Future at #40, “Remind Me” by Tom Grennan at #38, “Under the Influence” by Chris Brown at #24, “Late Night Talking” by Harry Styles at #12, “Big City Life” by Luude and Mattafix at #11, out-charting the original and finally, “Super Freaky Girl” hitting the top 10 at #10, becoming Nicki Minaj’s first top 10 hit as a lead artist since 2014 with “Anaconda”.

Our top five consists of “I Ain’t Worried” by OneRepublic at #5, “BREAK MY SOUL” by Beyoncé at #4, “Green Green Grass” by George Ezra at #3, “B.O.T.A. (Baddest of Them All)” by Eliza Rose and Interplanetary Criminal at #2 and finally, of course, “Afraid to Feel” at the top. Now’s the time for me to talk about albums released in the past week or so that didn’t really impact the chart, and this one does get a bit long because, well, most good music doesn’t chart, but regardless...

Off the Charts

HOLY FVCK – Demi Lovato

There is one album I absolutely adore in this short list of four non-charting records, and for the rest? Well, I don’t have much to say about any of them. Lovato’s newest album, charting at #7, seems to sacrifice much of the growth and interesting character that was developed in their last record for a cheap, derivative pop-punk takeover that spends much of its time in generic, overly-compressed mediocrity, even if some of the riffs do rock and some of the hooks are catchy. Demi is perfect for this kind of music, but the writers and producers gave them the short end of the stick. My favourite track is “CITY OF ANGELS”.

Awakening:Sleeping – MASS OF THE FERMENTING DREGS

I liked what I heard from this Japanese alternative rock band a lot, but the newest album falls kind of flat. It’s still a decent, well-produced set of colourful, heavy bangers but the production is less dynamic so despite the squelching guitars and soaring nature, everything is a bit too clear and tangible. This wouldn’t necessarily be a problem if it were more cohesive, but sonically and conceptually from the standpoint of someone definitely blocked by the language barrier, it feel s a bit formless to me. I’d still recommend it, and it definitely picks up by the end, but I’m not a fan overall. My favourite track is “Birds and rhythm”.

PUP PACK EP – Kenny Mason

There’s not much to say about this one, either: Kenny Mason delivers three good rap songs, and whilst he’s a bit less on the rappity-rap side here (which honestly is what I prefer from Kenny), I do think his melodic chops are improving and he still has plenty of conscious lyrical bars on the closer. It was pretty exciting to hear him on the minimal plugg-esque groove on “Dip!” with DavidTheTragic, which is my favourite track here, and I hope that next full-length is coming soon.

Ibiza Dreams – Departure

I had unusually tempered expectations coming into this new Departure album, considering that the one review was lukewarm and the title of Ibiza Dreams seemed far from an aesthetic that the largely darker, cryptic production from Departure could really encapsulate. I was therefore pretty surprised by how much this gorgeous album actually resonated. Whilst the other two records from Departure I’ve heard this year were ambitious to a degree, the first was free-flowing and chaotic and the second felt like pretty intricately crafted beats that worked best in isolation. This album has a level of ambition that I did not expect, considering the constant layering and collation of samples that is insanely dense, even more so than other plunderphonics, the guest features and generally longer runtime of some of these tracks and what feels like a more realised concept behind everything here. It’s so clear that Departure – or whoever the character here is – is not at peace, but what this album elevates most to me in terms of a goal or theme is still stability.

The jangling, Summery and wistful tones are always contrasted with these echoing drones wherein one instrument or really one present voice careens through the mix. The “Ibiza dreams” still seem very far away, but the album feels very laser-focused on at some point gaining that sense of peace and escapism, even if the album is indebted to the chaotic overthinking on “Real Ibiza Summers (Thoughts 6)”, the political frustration on “Freudian Analysis (You’ll Never Stop Suicidal Weakness”, and especially that mantra of self-hatred on said track: “loving you is complicated”. Coming into stability and self-esteem will be a rocky, manic road and the level of back-tracking, repeating yourself and predisposed melancholy throughout this record is a pretty nuanced slice of what that journey can be like. That’s not to say it doesn’t work sonically of course, because I’ll always like chipmunk vocals over breakbeats like on “Jacksonville Beach” with High Life, the cathartic, blood-curling scream on the aforementioned “Freudian Analysis”, the paranoid, meandering loops of “Korinthisch” before the soaring guitars kick in and let the track devour itself in its own emotional distance over the frosty drums, and, I mean, “Strobelight” with MMIII is just groovin’.

Katherine Bogue’s ghostly performance on “Isolation and Responsibility” as she recites “Father and Sons” by Cat Stevens / Yusuf Islam genuinely made me tear up a little bit, even when her intimate performances is drenched in the kind of echo and reverb that makes her seem like she’s singing from the heavens above. The beatwork on the closer “Humanity’s Tale” is immaculate with those trip-hop drums punctuating the densely-packed samples, including one of “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion which probably only works in this context. The advice given by the sample on this track, whilst he acknowledges is completely meaningless because it’s advice that goes by his own specific life experience and ultimately, what he’s saying is that it would be best to not take advice from anyone and instead trust in yourself, still resonates because it’s the last step that it feels needs to be taken before “Ibiza dreams” are in reach. It’s at that point that “Ibiza dreams” are evidently not the Summer party fun, if that wasn’t clear already. It’s more of a gateway to balance, and only with that balance is the protagonist, whether that be Departure or whoever else, is able to admit those closing lines: “I want to feel alive, I don’t even want to die anymore”. This album deserves a lot more analysis than I think I can give it justice in a shorter format, and my thoughts on the record are still not entirely assembled, but this album already within just a few days of release means a hell of a lot to me, and I fully recommend it if you’re willing to take a plunge into some at times heavy but genuinely inspiring sampledelia. Seriously, though, trust me on the sunscreen.

NEW ARRIVALS

#57 – “All These Nights” – Tom Grennan

Produced by The Six and Andrew Wells

There are only three new arrivals this week and honestly, I doubt I’ll have much to say about them, so you may as well call this a Departure album review with added bonus pop music. At least this has a decently unique concept, with the song mostly being about how despite the relationship getting closer and closer, he just wants to hear that extra step in hearing his partner say “I love you”. It’s sold pretty decently as well, or at least competently. My main gripe is the mix given how compressed it all is, cheapening the impact of pretty much any moment, and the drums sound cheap as hell within the same old 1980s synthpop pastiche, but there is a genuine drive to that chorus that feels pretty punchy. Tom Grennan is kind of lacking in presence here, which is surprising given he’s front and centre in this mix: I feel like he has nowhere near the personality to make these inflections work. Like much of the guy’s work, I feel like it could be a great song – and really, this is a brilliant chorus – but the structure’s too jerky, the mix isn’t dynamic and the vocals are just not good enough. This is the closest that Grennan has gotten to greatness to me, but I know it’s possible and that might be the most frustrating thing.

#22 – “Pink Venom” – BLACKPINK

Produced by Teddy Park

...What in the fresh Hell is this? Okay, maybe I should have been expecting something like this: BLACKPINK have a tendency to make the most... out-there and obnoxious elements of K-pop front and centre, but this still feels a bit... much, which is odd because for a lot of the time in this song, the mix feels gapingly open and kind of empty. The constant 90s rap references seem to try and make BLACKPINK’s bilingual raps have something more “tough” to them, but I highly doubt these girls are catching “bodies on bodies”. The wonky, south Asian-influenced trap production isn’t awful in the verses, with the jerky percussion potentially working in a context that isn’t going to scrape it all off for the big finish in the chorus, which has always felt really cheap with BLACKPINK. The chorus is this low-energy looping refrain that whilst hypnotic, completely halts the song’s momentum, before an awkward G-funk rhythm with dusty drums in the second verse which is out of nowhere and has some piercing synths that I definitely don’t like... but at least Jennie’s Big Sean-esque rapid, all-over-the-place flow is kind of fun. This isn’t as manic as “Kill this Love” might have been, but still, by the bridge, I have no Goddamn idea what is going on. Maybe I need to watch the video to understand the BLACKPINK lore and maybe that can make me find out why they’re doing a Big Shaq impersonation on the outro, but for now... I think the girls are at their best solo, when they can play with a certain level of restraint that BLACKPINK does not allow. This isn’t awful by any means, but it’s a sight to behold.

#6 – “My G” – Aitch featuring Ed Sheeran

Produced by Fraser T. Smith, WhYJay and LiTek

Usually with Aitch, and honestly with Ed Sheeran, I pull out the jokes but I don’t think that’s all that inappropriate for this song in particular. Aitch’s new album, Close to Home, debuting at #2 on the albums chart behind Steps, just managed to debut one song on this week’s chart. It’s a pretty sweet one, in all honesty, as Aitch raps about his little sister who has Down syndrome, with some really detailed accounts of the memories that he shares with her, even if some of them aren’t all that positive. Written in an almost letter format, he expresses his motivation to continue being there for her even as times go on – quicker than he expected – and briefly touching on how he wants her to not pay mind to people who may stop and stare because of her condition. It might be a tad heavy-handed, but the narrative being as genuine as it is, especially in that second verse, is more emotion than I think I’ve ever heard from Aitch, and it’s to be commended. Ed Sheeran is also here, and whilst I don’t think his guitar-laden hook blends in with the kind of awkward percussion as well as it could, it’s pretty catchy and for this kind of rap ballad, it’s serviceable. I can see it sticking around.

Conclusion

I probably prefer “All These Nights” sonically but “My G” put a smile on my face so I think I’ll give it Best of the Week, with whatever “Pink Venom” by BLACKPINK is as the Worst of the Week. I do wish I liked any of these three songs more than I do but that’s how the UK Singles Chart works as always. Thank you for reading – I know most of it wasn’t focused on the chart but I frankly don’t care – and I’ll see you next week!

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enthusiasticharry · 3 years

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Lonely this Christmas

summary: you and Harry broke up earlier in the year, but at Columbia’s Christmas party you see each other again, and you both realise just how much you miss each other

author's note: ahhhh i don’t think i've ever been so excited to post one of my works as i am this one and i hope you all enjoy my baby. the reader in this is musician!yn and i have so many other ideas for the little story line, so if you'd like to hear them, please let me know!

word count: 11k of baso angst, really fluffy fluff and some of the best smut I think i’ve ever written. there’s deepthroating... face-sitting... really just the whole shebang.

masterlist | please speak to me about LTC here!

You truly believed that Christmas was the best time of the year.

You loved everything about the festive time of year. From decorating the house, to listening to the music. From spending time with your family, to cosying up on the sofa and watching Christmas films. It was a special time of year, where everyone seemed to relax and walk around with joyous looks on their faces because no matter the year they’d have, it was nearly over and it’s finally time to celebrate the best aspects of the time that had passed.

You found yourself thankful for the year, but also thankful that it was over. This year had been one of the best, but also one of the worst years of your life. The thing that caused the year to not be the best that it could was the split you had with your long-term boyfriend. It was messy, and absolutely heartbreaking on your side and because it was such a big part of the year, it became one of the memories that you wished to ignore but you found yourself struggling too. On a brighter side, you had won your first Brit award this year for Best New Artist. It was a turning point in your career, for certain.

One thing that you’ve never enjoyed about Christmas is parties. You would much rather stay within the walls of your own house and spend your evenings alone, but being in the industry that you are it becomes a little harder. The Columbia Christmas Party happen’s every year, but this was you first year signed to the Record Label, so the first year you had been invited. You were shocked to be invited, but found yourself to be excited and dreading the experience all at once.

The thing that you found yourself thinking and worrying about the most was what you were going to wear. You wanted to impress everyone there, since you had found this new stardom for yourself and you had created this name for yourself which you hadn’t had before. After consulting with your stylist, you settled on a custom Gucci dress that was made for you to wear specifically to this event. The dress itself was a Christmas-green velvet material, which landed to about your mid-thigh with a square neckline. Attached to the square straps of the neckline, were tulle sleeves of the same colour that bunched at your wrists. It hugged your curves perfectly and once you’d added your black scrappy heels you really felt beautiful. Your natural features are accentuated, and you, for the first time in a long time, feel beautiful within your own skin.

That all changed the second you walked into the party.

You felt as though all eyes were on you, as though everyone was watching every step that you took to see what you’d do. It made you feel uncomfortable and immediately feel as though the dress you are wearing wasn’t right, it was too short and you needed to cover up. You were maybe 98% certain that they weren’t thinking about what you were wearing, but more so who you’ve just clocked eyes with.

You knew he was going to be here, and you had prepared yourself for the inevitable, but seeing him stood there completely changed everything that you had prepared for. You both were signed to the same record label, years after the two of you had met though, so it was no surprise that he was sat at one of the tables with a group of people around him as he spoke and laughed at what they were all taking about.

You tried to ignore the pinch within your heart, but it was hard. You weren’t the one who broke it off, and if things had gone according to your plan, you would still be together right now.

You had met Harry a few years ago, when you had first moved to London and you were bar and pub hopping, singing and hoping that you’d somehow stumble upon someone who could help you start your career. It was completely by accident that you both had met, and looking back at it quite embarrassing on your part. You were in the middle of your set when he walked in, as well as Mitch and Sarah, but you hadn’t seen them at that point. You had recently learnt how to play Sign of the Times on the piano and you had purposely brought your small keyboard out with you so you could play the song. Looking back on it, you probably wouldn’t have sung the song if you did know that he was there, but you didn’t know so you sung it. It was a little shaky at the start due to your nerves about playing the song for the first time out of the comfort of your room but you quickly found your groove, and you finished strong. Harry had later told you that, after a little bit of teasing from Mitch and Sarah, he knew that from how in awe he was of you he just had to speak to you. He walked up to you whilst you were in the middle of throwing your celebratory shot back that you always take after finishing your set and the first thing you ever said to him was, “Fuck!”

You always thought that would be a story you’d be able to tell your grandchildren, and you both had even spoken about it, but it just hadn’t worked out.

He seemed okay, which you were happy about. His new album had just come out, and you don’t think you’ve ever cried at a record as you did at that one. You knew it was about you, it was hard not to. All of the little hints that he left throughout his songs would blow over anyone else head, but you knew the true meaning of them and you think that’s one of the reasons you found it so emotional. He was smiling as he spoke to the people, briefly taking sips of his drink every now and then, which was only water so you wondered whether he’d drove there. You both would be flying home soon, but this would be the first time in three years that you’d be flying home alone.

To stop yourself from crying, you quickly make you way over to the bar. After running your eyes over the cocktail menu, your eyes immediately pricked at the sight of one, and you could stop the words as they left your lips: “A cherry bomb fizz please.”

You watched as the bartender added a cherry and some maraschino liqueur, before topping the drink off with Champagne. The drink was quite sour, but you quite liked it. It caused your lips to purse and eyebrows to widen, in a good way you must add.

“Could never handle your alcohol, could you?”

You could feel him before you heard him, but you didn’t want to turn around. Why he felt it okay to come up and talk to you were unsure about, but at the same time you had been hoping that he would. Why you were hoping that he would you were also unsure about, but you’re certain it had something to do with the fact that you weren’t quite over him.

“I think you’re mistaken.” You say, taking another sip of your drink, “You were the one who could never handle your alcohol. And this is just sour.”

He hums, as though he isn’t believing a word that you say, “If you say so, love.”

“Love?” You say, raising your eyebrow at him whilst throwing back the rest of your drink, “Thought those days were well over.”

“Force of habit, ‘suppose.” He shrugs, “I have a few of them when it comes to you.”

“You grew out of them.” I shrug, “Can’t remember the last time you called me love whilst we were together.”

He drops his eyes to the counter, and you know you’ve done what you’re supposed to. This is the first time you’ve spoken to since you broke up, and you can’t believe that it’s at a Christmas party of all places. He also had the audacity to call you love, something that you couldn’t believe he had the balls to do. The last few months of your relationship you were lucky if he even looked at you, and here he now was calling you love as though it’s totally okay to do so.

“I’ll always call you love.” He says, lifting his eyes up from the counter to look at you once more, “I’ll always care about you.”

“Where was this five months ago?” You ask, unable to stop yourself.

Your break up, in your opinion, came out of nowhere. You knew something had changed in your relationship, since he hardy had the time for you at the end of your time together. He’d get up in the morning and wouldn’t touch, or even kiss you. Then, when he’d come home it would be the exact same thing, he’d slip into bed and to stop yourself from feeling as though you were going to cry, you’d pretend you were asleep and hope that you’d actually fall asleep. He never told you a reason for breaking up with you, apart from that he needed space and that he couldn’t be with you. That was probably the thing that hurt you the most. He broke up with you, but you never really had a real reason why.

“I just needed to leave.” He says, “That was my main focus.”

You try to ignore your heart breaking all over again but it’s hard to, when it’s the only thing you can think about.

“Why now?” You say, “Why are you doing this now?”

“YN—”

You shake your head, “I don’t think I want to hear it. I’m going to go.”

“Don’t—”

“—YN!” You feel an arm thrown around your shoulder, one that you immediately realise is Jeff once you register his voice and his face once you turn to him, “I haven’t seen you in months! How are you?”

You can immediately tell that he’s drunk. From the slight slurring of his words, to the smell of alcohol on his breath as he speaks. You’re just as shocked to see him as he is to see you.

“I’m good, Jeff, thanks.” You smile, at him, trying to push the conversation you’ve just had with his friend out of your mind, “How are you?”

“I’m drunk.” He laughs, squeezing your shoulder slightly, “But! I’s nice to see you two together again!”

The whole ignoring the situation doesn’t quite go to plan. Once he’s said those words you immediately draw your eyes towards Harry. You’ve never wanted to leave a conversation as much as you did this one. You look at Harry, but he isn’t looking at you.

He gasps, “You should come over to the table! We’re all here and it’ll just be like old times.”

“I couldn’t possibly. . .” You shake your head.

“You can!” He says, “Come on, I won’t take no for an answer! And H, hurry up with those drinks.”

Jeff walks you away from the bar and towards the table that you noticed earlier when you noticed Harry for the first time this evening. Glenne, Mitch and Sarah are there, as well as Kid and a few other producers that you recognise from working on Harry’s album, as well as a few songs from yours also. You knew that just because you and Harry broke up you couldn’t expect the friendships that had formed because of you two to just stop altogether.

“YN!” There’s a course of cheers and Sarah’s the first to stand up and wrap her arms around you. Out of everyone, Sarah was the person who you were closest with out of Harry’s band. She had joined Harry’s band after you and Harry had been dating for a year or so when Sarah joined the band, and you two instantly clicked and became the closest of friends. You had spoken a few times with her since you had broke up, but nothing compared to what you used to. You weren’t surprised though, she was Harry’s drummer first and your friend after — or that’s what you told yourself to make you feel slightly better.

“Hi.” You smile, dropping down into the spare seat next to Sarah. Words are thrown around the table of glee that you’re there, as well as questions as to why you haven’t been in contact. You know they’re drunk, and you suspect that is why they’re saying all of the things they are. You were quick to fall out of the conversation as it moved onto the show that they did the day prior to celebrate the release of Harry’s album. You suppose the reason your feelings were so heightened today was due to your hearing the album for the first time yesterday and then replaying it today.

It was completely different to Harry Styles but still so Harry. You hated how his music made your feel, the sad and the happy ones, as well as all in between. Harry returned to the table shorty after clutching drinks in his hands, and under his arms. Why he didn’t just make two trips, you would never know, but it’s lucky that all the drinks made it without any spillages.

“We were just talking about yesterday.” Glenne says, taking a sip of her drink as she does before turning towards you, “Have you heard the album, YN?”

“You don’t have too—” Harry turns to your briefly.

“I have.” You nod, “It’s good, a masterpiece even. You should be proud of it, H.”

You can see his shoulder tense, and from knowing him as well as you do, you wouldn’t be surprised if his heart just sunk to the bottom of his stomach. If you’ve listened to the album, it means that you’ve heard the song that Harry hoped you hadn’t.

“What would you say is your favourite?”

You look directly at him as you say the next words, and you hope he listens to them, “Probably Cherry.”

The other’s carry on talking as though you hadn’t said anything at all, but Harry doesn’t open his mouth again. He doesn’t stop looking at you though, and the way you look gorgeously defeated. A part of him wondered whether he was the one who caused you to be this way. About a month ago he asked some producers he knew that were working on your album with you how you are, and they said that you just seemed sad. It broke him to hear those words, just the words he had said to you all those months ago had broken you. Out of the blue, probably not but due to you not paying any attention, the group all move in, including you and Harry to have a reminiscent group photo.

He does open his mouth again when the group disperse to the dance floor, leaving the two of you all alone at the table.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t lift your eyes up from the end of the table cloth you’re messing with, an exasperated laugh leaving your lips, “What for? Breaking up with me? Taking everything from me? Or, I don’t know, using that in your song?”

“I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

“You thought I wouldn’t mind.” You shake your head, completely baffled at his words, “Why would you think that? I trusted you with that, and now it’s on the end of one of your songs.”

“I’m sorry about everything, but especially that.” He says, and you can tell he’s being genuine with the look in his eyes. He looks as though he’s about to cry.

“Why did you do it?” I asks, “You could’ve asked me. I would’ve said yes, I swear to you.”

“I was nervous.” He says, “We didn’t leave on the best of terms, and I felt as though asking would’ve have been the best.”

“So you decided to do it anyway?”

“Will you forgive me, please?” He asks, and you can tell his voice is about to break, “Please.”

“That’s it, Harry.” You say, “I don’t think I can.”

The next morning you awake with a slight hangover, which wasn’t surprising because once you’d left quickly after saying your last words to Harry, and opened a bottle of vodka that you had in your cupboard. That bottle now sits on your bedside table, three-quarters of it drunk and the cause of your hangover. You were thankful that you hadn’t gotten too drunk before you left the party, due to the wraths of paparazzi that were there as you left. You remember leaving with your head down, ignoring their calls and questions, as well as their their cameras flashed at you. You had gotten into your car, your driver had smiled at you and the second the car started moving away from the club you found yourself unable to stop the tears that streamed down your face.

This wasn’t the first time that you’d done this since you’ve broken up with Harry, but this was certainly the worse you’ve felt since you’ve done so. Your head had its own heartbeat, and you felt as though your were stable on your feet as you trudged towards the kitchen to have some orange juice, your remedy for your hangovers to say the least. It was always something that Harry thought ahead about when you were together. If he knew that the two of you were going out he’d always stock up the fridge. The amounts of time since that you’ve gotten drunk and not had any orange juice within the house is quite atrocious and he knew from experience that they never ended well.

You drink your first glass of the drink quickly, and pour your second one before making you way back into your bedroom. Due to the amount of time you spent in LA, you had purchased your second apartment here, your first being in London. It wasn’t the nicest ever, but it was good enough for you when you were here, and something that you were thankful to have when you woke up from nights like these.

You fall back down upon your bed and the first you think you pick up is your phone, shocked at the thousands of notifications your found on it. You’re still slightly asleep so you rub your eyes a few times before clicking upon the instagram app. The thousands of notifications are dm’s and comments upon your photos. After clicking through the notifications, you find the culprit sat with a lovely love heart emoji on Glenne’s story.

At some point that morning, probably whilst you were growing your sorrows away with vodka, she had posted the photo of you all on her story with the caption ‘the band’s back together,’ a heart emoji and tagged you in it. All the messages were asking whether you and Harry were back together again, not because you’d ever gone public with your relationship, but Harry had gone public with your breakup in his interview with the Rolling Stones and with Zane Lowe. He was very respectful in the way that he spoke about it, which was all you ask for. You hadn’t actively gone out to watch and read what he was saying, but your manager had warned you about them before you had done some interviews and you were curious to say the least what they were about.

In the photo you could tell that you and Harry were the only ones who were sober. Everyone else had drunken grins on their faces whilst you and Harry, to say the least, had very uncomfortable smiles across both of your lips. It annoyed you slightly that the two of you couldn’t even be in the same place anymore without having messages upon messages about whether or not you’re back together. Anyone with a brain could see that you certainly weren’t just by the expression on both of your faces.

You weren’t annoyed, or angry that the photo had been posted because you wouldn’t have taken the photo if you didn’t want it to be posted, but you did take the photo. You were always taking photos together before the breakup, and photo booths were you speciality. It’s another thing that you had hardly done since the breakup, so it was nice to see the photo but deep down a part of you wished that it hadn’t have been taken.

It’s all over all of the social media’s, and you decide that it’s probably best if you just put your phone down. You’re about place it on your bedside table when a notification pops up on the top of your screen, and without thinking, you tap on it, sending you straight to the messages app and to who had sent you the message.

Harry: YN?

Why he was sending you a message in the first place, you had no idea. Why he was messaging your so early in the morning was also something that confused you even more.

Harry: I know you’re reading this.

Harry: Your read receipts are on.

You curse yourself for being so click-happy when you see a notification, and more so for having your read receipts on because you know you can remove them but you don’t quite know how to. You contemplate for a few seconds what to say in your drunken, tired haze, before typing out the message:

YN: Can I help you?

His reply comes in a few seconds later.

Harry: Are you free?

YN: Why?

Harry: Meet me at Beachwood. Usual time.

YN: Why should I?

Harry: Just be there. Please.

YN: I will.

When you walk down the pavement towards the Beachwood Cafe, its as though you’re doing so without actually thinking about it. When you and Harry were together — this was your place. You can’t even remember the amount of dates the two of you have had here, tucked away in the corner whilst the music played, chatting away endlessly about things that popped into each of your minds. It got to the point that when you two were free, and managed to get to go, you had been that much that the waitresses knew your order by memory. The first time they had done it, you remember the way you both smiled sheepishly at each other and back at the waitress.

It was decorated for Christmas. You could see a tree in the corner of the cafe, as well as lights and tinsel across the windows. If you weren’t so nervous you probably would have smiled at the sight of it.

You push the door open and hear the familiar ding of a bell that rings whenever someone walks through, and you’re catapulted back to last year when you did the exact same thing but with a smile on your face from your excitement of seeing your boyfriend, one who you cared and loved very much.

The low hum of Mud’s Lonely this Christmas fills the room, very apt for the current situation and you’re guessing the mood of the conversation you’re about to have. It was late, close to closing time but you and Harry found that to be the best time to come, because hardly anybody else did.

He’s already sat at your usual table, the one in the corner because the two of you often liked to people watch. It had started off a silly game once when you were both tired and didn’t really want to talk about your lives, so you started brainstorming what other people’s were like. As much as you hated to admit it, Harry’s stories were always the better of the two of you but you didn’t mind, because you could little to the words he spoke to you for every minute for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t mind.

He’s already gotten your drinks, you can see the two glasses upon the table in front of him. You pull out the chair, making him look up from his phone at you. You can see his features immediately soften at the sight of you stood there.

They always used to do that.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” You don’t reply, “I got you a peppermint hot chocolate. I know It’s one of your favourites.”

It was one of your favourites, and you haven’t been able to have one in a while because, surprise surprise, they remind you of Harry, and the time you used to spend together.

“Thank you.” You say, picking up the drink and taking a sip of the hot liquid, dropping it back down and looking at him directly in the eyes, “Why did you invite me here?”

He clears his throat, and the movements of his elbows suggest he’s wiping his hands upon his trousers.

“I want to apologise. For everything, this time.” He says, and you watch as he places his hands back upon the table, messing with the rings on his hand. He still wore the one you got him for your anniversary a year ago, “For how I acted yesterday, the day we broke up and the months before hand. I was a dick, and there’s no excuse for it, but I just hope that you accept my apology.”

“I do.” You say, after a couple of seconds of contemplation, knowing that there was no point to having this dragged out for any longer than it already was, “I just want to know why, that’s all I want.”

“I.” He stops and lets out a shaky breath, “I don’t know, if I’m honest with you. I was just so investing into getting the album finished, and for some reason in my mind I thought that it would be best if I was single to do that.”

“Why would you think that?” You ask, the tears brimming on your waterline.

“I don’t know. The second I watched you walk out of the door, and when you didn’t turn around to look again but just drove away, I knew I’d messed up.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You choke back a sob, trying to be quiet to not draw attention to the two of you, “You should’ve stopped me. Explained. I love you Harry, I would have done anything to help you. You needed space, I would’ve given it to you. You needed me, I would’ve been there.”

He drops his head, “I know.”

“Then why didn’t you?” You suck in a breath and bite your head to stop anymore sounds from escaping, “You let me leave. You watched me leave. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I felt guilty. I’d just broken up with you, love, do you really think that it would’ve been a good idea for me to all of a sudden say I wanted you back?”

Silent tears stream down your face, “You had months to, Harry. Months. You did nothing.”

“And it’ll be the biggest regret of my life, YN, I promise you.” He says, and you can tell that he’s trying to stop himself from crying, “It will be. I’ve been a mess without you.”

You still love Harry, and you know that you do, and you hate seeing him so upset. You believe that’s why you reach forward to take his hand in yours.

“I have too.”

Somehow, you and Harry had been booked on the same flight home, and you managed to get seats next to each other. Spending that time next to each other was good, you believed. It gave you the opportunity to properly speak and catch each other up on everything that had happened. Harry had apologised, yet again, for everything that had happened and you had too. You gushed over his album once you had done, and that was when he invited you to the Secret London Show he was holding at the Electric Ballroom.

That takes you to now, stood in front of your mirror looking over your outfit to make sure that it was presentable enough. You knew you had to look presentable, but it wasn’t as fancy as the Christmas party. You dressed yourself in a long sleeved black lace top, and paired it with some black jean flares and your docs. Simple, yet quite effective in the grand scheme of things.

You were nervous to say the least about what what the evening was going to hold, especially since Gemma and other people who you hadn’t seen since the two of you broke up were going to be there. You weren’t exactly prepared, and if they asked you any questions you’d have no idea about what to say, but once you had brought that up with Harry, he said to just answer with the truth, which you were going to.

The entire way to the electric ballroom you were nervous, your heart was beating out of you chest and you felt as though you shouldn’t have been going. You thought that up until you arrived, when you walked backstage to see Harry and Gemma stood talking whilst Harry was getting ready. Once he saw you, his features rose into a smile and yours did too, and you walked over to press a kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“YN!” You could hear the shock in Gemma’s voice as she noticed that it was you and she immediately stood up and wrapped her arms around you, “I haven’t seen you in so long. How are you?”

“I’m okay, thanks Gem.” You smiled, pulling away and tucking some of your hair behind your ear, “How are you?”

“I’m amazing.” She says, “I certainly didn’t expect you to be here. Are you two back together? Please tell me that you are.”

Instead of answering straight away, you turn to look at Harry briefly. You both knew exactly what was running through your brains, and the way you both smiled at each other made that completely obvious. He nodded, and then you knew exactly what to say.

You grin and turn back to Gemma, “Trying to.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you.” She wraps you in another hug, “He was a mess without you, and I know you were a mess without him. You’re soulmates. I can’t believe he even did it in the first place.”

“I think we all couldn’t.” You laugh.

“Hey!” Harry whines from the chair beside the two of you, “I made a mistake, we all get it.”

You and Gemma laugh and from then it’s like the past six months hadn’t happened and you were still the best of friends. That was one thing about being with Harry, you loved his family just as much as you loved him. Gemma was like a sister to you, and she was even when you broke up but you just hadn’t seen her. Anne, well she was like a second mother to you. She always made sure to make you feel included at family gatherings, and she even came to stay with you sometimes when Harry went away for a while and you couldn’t go with him. You had missed Harry the most during this time, but Anne and Gemma were two people that you had also missed more than anything.

The majority of people make their way to where they’re watching the show soon after, but you tell Gemma that you’ll meet her on the balcony later because you wanted to have a quick word with Harry. He was in the middle of shrugging his jacket upon his shoulders when you walked through the door, and he immediately stopped his movements and turned to look at you.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Everything okay?”

You shrug and bite your lip, stepping for arms a few steps towards him, “Just wanted to see you.”

You find your eyes flicking up and down his body, taking in the monochrome yellow suit he had on with a black tie. You always loved and supported Harry’s wardrobe choices, and you had missed in the time you hadn’t been with him picking them out with him. You felt as though this was an excellent choice.

“You look amazing.” He says, taking a few steps forward so that you’re directly in front of each other. You watch as he lifts his hands up, about to place them on your waist but he stops himself and drops his arms back down. Without hesitation you grab his wrists and place them upon your waist. His eyes widen, but the second he feels your skin underneath his hand, just separated by the thin material of your lace top.

“Thank you.” You bite your lip and wrap your fingers around his tie, lightly picking up the material, “You look so handsome, H.”

He almost lets out a sob at your words, but he quickly stops himself and smiles at you. Without thinking, you lean forward and press your lips upon his. They feel so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time. You want to cry. You’ve dreamt of this for months, the feeling of having him this closer to you again, and from the way he wraps his arms around your back and pulls you even closer to him, so that your body is fully flushed against his. You pull away with a smile and immediately drop your head to his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist under his jacket and hugging him close to you. You finally feel a tear escape from your eye.

“I’ve missed you so much, H.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

He sings the entire Fine Line album from start to finish, and from how much you’ve listened to the album you actually know the majority of the words. You sing and dance away with Gemma, posting instagram stories of the two of you, and then one of how proud you are of Harry. You don’t need to explain yourself, there certainly isn’t a need to so you do so without any hesitation. You realise you’ve missed watching him perform, the way he can entertain a crowd with his talents has always been something you’d been jealous of. You’ve done shows here and there but because your album isn’t due to be out until the start of next year, when you plan to do your first world tour, and even though you try your hardest, you don’t feel as though you’ll ever be able to work a crowd the way he does. Where Stormzy came from, you still have no idea, since you hadn’t seen him downstairs but all of a sudden he’s singing Vossi Bop with Harry and your watching with your mouth dropped open in shock as he does so.

You and Harry make the executive decision to go to Harry’s house after the concert. It’s how you both found yourselves sat on Harry’s sofa, a glass of wine in each of your hands. You head is leant against the back of the sofa, whilst Harry’s hand leans upon the back of it, running his fingers through your hair. It’s comforting, and the smile hasn’t left your face since he started to do it.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, moving his hand from your hair to run his finger along your cheekbone, then down until he’s running it across your lips, “I can’t believe I ever pushed you away. You were my girl. I was going to marry you, I needed to marry you, still do.”

“I’m back now.” You whisper back, lifting your hand to place on his cheek, “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter how hard you try and push me away, I’m not leaving.”

“I don’t want you too.” He shakes his head, “I’ll never want you too again.”

Without really thinking, you take the glass out of Harry’s hand and place both of yours upon the table in front of you, listening to the sound as glass meets glass. He leans back on the sofa with a puzzled look, immediately realising what is happening when you move to straddle his hips, placing your hands upon his shoulders to steady yourself. His hands fall upon the small of your back, his hands dragging up and down to tease your skin.

You lean forward, moving so that your faces are inches apart. You knock his nose slightly with yours, causing his cheeks to curl upwards with a smile before you capture it with your lips. immediately responds by kissing your back, pushing his body so that it’s placed even closer to yours if it’s physically possible.

Without a warning you pull away from him, slipping off his lap so that you’re on your knees in front of him. His eyes never leave yours as you so, and he immediately opens his legs so that you can slip in between them, his finger running over his bottom lip as he watches you.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Want to feel you.” You reply, resting your hands upon his thighs, “Want to feel you in my mouth. Can I?”

“Go ahead, baby.”

You feel excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and with shaky hands you move to unfasten his belt, and unbutton and unzip his trousers without much struggle. He lifts his hips up so that you can manoeuvre his trousers down and off his legs, leaving him in his black boxers. You bite your lip at the sight of the tent within the flimsy material, already growing and ready for you. You feel slightly overwhelmed that after so long of waiting, and wanting him to be in front of you again, he actually is.

“Already so hard for me, H.” You say, running your hand over the fuzz upon his bare thighs, “Have you thought about this as much as I have.”

“I thought about it everyday.” He replies, quickly at that, “It’s etched in my brain, the sight of you on your knees for me.”

You bite your lip as your grin, leaning to press a kiss to his stomach, just above the happy little trial that slips underneath the hem of his boxers. You feel his stomach tense underneath your lips, especially when you hook your fingers into the hem of his boxers, wiggling the material down until you can completely take it off once he’d lifted his hips again. He’s fully hard for you, and you can feel your stomach doing little flips in excitement for what is going to happen.

Sex, as it is in most relationships, was a big part of yours and Harry’s. It’s important that couples are comfortable with each other when revealing such intimate parts of themselves, and you and Harry were. If any of of you wanted to try anything, you could do so because of how comfortable you felt with each other. Whenever the other wanted to try anything, you’d do so without any hesitation and in such a way that you both enjoyed it. You both had your kinks, and your shared ones, and over the courser of your relationship you both explored those feelings. You were just happy that even though you had spent such time away from each other, you could still feel that confidence bubbling between the two of you, and those feelings bubbling between each other. Harry made you feel a way no other human being has ever been able to, and you were thankful because you felt as though you’d never be able to find that with anyone else, and now you didn’t have to worry because you were back together.

“You ready to take me in your mouth baby.” He says, placing his hand upon your cheek, “Ready to take me the way you used to.”

“Always, baby.”

Your tongue slips from between your lips and you lick a stripe up his throbbing cock, causing a low groan to escape through Harry’s lips. You can’t help but smile at the sound, knowing that you had caused that. Another groan escapes his lips once you wrap your lips around his tip completely, taking it into your mouth and you can help but giggle slightly. He smiles down at you and pulls your hair up so that it’s off of your face, making a makeshift ponytail to help move you up and down his cock.

“Look so good with my cock in your mouth.” His tongue slips out of his mouth to wet his lips, “Always could take me so well. Show me, baby, show me how deep you can go.”

You comply, taking him as deep as you can until you can feel him in the back of your throat. You eyes start to water, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. You hold for as long as possibly can before he lightens his touch and allows you to pull away. A string of saliva connects you two together as you and you wipe your lips with the back of your hand to remove it.

“Can you do it again?” He asks and you sheepishly nod, flicking your eyes between his throbbing member and him a few times before wrapping your lips back around him, “Fuck, baby, no one can do this like you can. No one.”

His words spur you on and you deep throat him as far as you possibly can before you need to gasp for air, taking a few seconds before starting to bob your head again, taking a few seconds at each time to run your tongue over his throbbing tip, collecting some of the salty pre-come that had started to bubble there.

“So good to me.” He lets you stop for a minute, and you place your head upon his thigh so that you can catch you breath. It was almost as though he knew that you needed to take a breather. You had the slight problem of always trying to do more than you’re able too and you almost always end up loosing too much of your breath, “Even though I’m an absolute twat. You’re always so good to me.”

“You deserve it.” You say, your throat a little coarse from your actions before.

“I don’t.” He shakes his head, “I broke your heart.”

You hesitate for a few seconds, “But you’re fixing it.”

“I shouldn’t have broken it in the first place.”

You move so that your higher up and able to place a kiss to his lips, whispering against them, “You’re fixing it.”

He kisses you back with more passion than before, moving his hand to grip under your thighs so that he can pick you up and place your on his. His fingers tug at the hem of your lace shirt, so you detach your lips so that you can pull it over your head. He groans at the sight of your bare chest to him, your nipples hardening into stiff buds at the feeling of the cold air immediately on your skin.

“No bra?” He presses a few open mouthed kisses to your neck, “You’ve been with me all evening, and I never even fucking noticed that you didn’t have a bra on.”

“You used to have a special talent for noticing when I didn’t have a bra on.” You giggle, sighing slightly at the feeling of his lips on his neck, and then the subtle feeling of his teeth grazing your skin.

“I must’ve lost my touch. But don’t worry.” He pulls away and looks you directly in the eye, “I’ll soon get it back.”

“Of course you will.” You laugh, but he stops it with his lips. The first time you and Harry kissed, you were so nervous. You felt as though you were going to mess up and he’d never want to kiss you again. You were completely wrong, and he actually ended up saying that it was one of the best kisses of you life. You couldn’t believe his words, and since then you completely found yourself wanting his lips to be on yours. Just as they were now, his tongue slipping between your lips and the feeling always transporting the two of you to where it’s just you, and you have the time in the world to kiss as much as you want to.

He moves his kisses down your neck, leaving sloppy ones against your skin until he was at the curve of your breast. Harry was a boob man, you knew that for a fact. As much as he loved to hold onto your ass every now and then, you always noticed that he spent the majority of his time focusing on your boobs. Whether it be sucking blemishes into the plushly skin whilst you fucked, or laying his head on them as you both calmed down from your activities, he always, without fail, focused on your boobs.

He knew that if he attacked your nipples skilfully with his tongue, he could have your dampening your panties and clenching your thighs together so much that he couldn’t resist it. He starts by wrapping his lips around your right nipple, tugging on the flesh slightly with his lips before letting it go with a pop.

“Fucking love your tits, love.” He sighs and you giggles slightly before gasping at the feeling of his pinching your other nipple with his fingers, “Fit in my hands, and in my mouth, so nicely.”

You moan in response to his words and throw your head back as he wraps his lips around your other one, sucking and sending flutters all the way down to your core. You wanted him, yearned for him, and you were beginning to grown inpatient.

“Can we go to your bedroom?” You run your fingers through his hair and pull his head back so that he’s looking at you, “Bedroom.”

“Is that where you want it?”

“Want it in your bed.” You say, placing your hand upon his cheek, “Our bed.”

He stands up with you still on him, your legs wrapped around him as he carries your upstairs. You rest your head upon his shoulder so he can look over yours and direct you safely to the comforts of his bedroom.

This place didn’t hold the best of memories from the last few months of your relationship but if you ignored that and focused on the positives, you had some of your best times in this room. It was a place where the two of you could completely be yourselves, and have a place to call yours. The pillow talk that occurred in this room was out of this world, and it was where you planned your future. One that was put on hold briefly but now seemed to be ready for the two of you again.

“Will you strip for me?” He asks as he places your down in the room, “I want to watch you slip out of those jeans, baby.”

You nod but at first undress him. You slip the jacket from his shoulders, skilfully loosen his tie and pull it over his head. Next is his shirt which you start to unbutton, but Harry grows impatient and rips it off, the buttons flying in all sorts of directions.

“Harry!”

“Oops?” He laughs, sitting down on the bed.

You had given Harry one strip tease before, for his birthday a year ago and it had gone down a treat. You had dressed up in your fanciest lingerie, which happened to be a black set that he had bought specifically for you for your birthday with ‘Styles’ embroidered on the inside. There was something, for the both of you, that you loved about seeing his name all over your the undergarments you wore. Whenever you wore them out in public, the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, as though you were hiding a naughty secret that you didn’t want anyone to know about.

“Are you going to?” He urged, not taking his eyes off you’re, “I’m waiting.”

“Might make you wait a little longer.” You smile, running your fingers along the hem of your jeans, “Seeing as though you left me waiting for how long?”

“Don’t tease.”

“Why?” You shrug, “That was your speciality, wasn’t it?”

He had a love for teasing you, always had done. From the first time the two of you had sex, you knew he liked to tease. He liked to tease you all over, having your body withering under his touch until you couldn’t help but beg for him to touch you. You had a slight suspicion that he enjoyed hearing you beg for him, whimpering under his touch until you were crying for him to touch you. You remember that once, he had been teasing you all day whilst you had been out and about, but once you had gotten home he was teasing you so badly, overstimulating you over and over until you were crying for him to make your come.

“Just strip, my love.” You laugh and his words and unfasten the button to your jeans, turning around so that your ass is facing him, pulling your jeans down to reveal your black lace panties to him. You’re not surprised when he smacks his hand to the flesh of your ass, causing you to turn around with a gasp.

“That wasn’t nice.” You move so that you’re straddling him again.

“When have I ever been nice?” He raises his eyebrows, “I don’t think you want me to start now.”

He leans forward and places his lips to yours again, his body falling back upon the bed so that you’re hovering above him. His fingers run down from the small of his back, to her ass again until he’s gripping the flesh between his fingers, quite harshly you must say so which goes straight to your core. You know that the front of your panties are ruined by your wetness, and you know for certain that Harry does also.

“Sit on my face.” He mumbles against your lips.

“What?” You whisper back.

“Sit on my face.” He places a kiss to your jaw, “Wanna eat that pretty cunt, want to have you trembling above me.”

You would squeeze your thighs together, but you can’t because of his body between yours. You nod your head and clamber off him, pulling your underwear down your legs quickly. You move up the bed until you’re next to his head, spreading your legs and placing your knees on either side of his head. His hands grip your thighs, dancing his fingers along your thighs.

“Please, H.” You say, pushing his hair off of his forehead as you look down at him.

“Didn’t think you’d be begging so soon, baby.” He chuckles, pressing a few kisses upon your cheeks.

“I’m doing no such thing.” You shake your head, “You’re just being slow.”

He certainly isn’t being slow when he leans his head forward and starts to attack your clit with his tongue. You have to quickly lean forward also and grab the headboard to steady yourself, a moan escaping your lips as he does so. He attacks your clit quickly, and you can’t help but grind your hips forward at the feeling. He curls his hands around your thighs, stopping you from moving anymore. You cry out as he doesn’t slow down, and you pull his hair slightly. It emits a moan from him which vibrates against your clit, creeping your closer and closer to your peak.

It becomes a cycle. As you pull on his hair, more moans and groans tumble from his lips again sty your clit. He knew the more that he focused upon your clit, the closer you’d find yourself to your orgasm. He had learnt this, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten it.

You bite your bottom lip and close your eyes, rocking your hips back and forth against his tongue. He knows your close, due to your thighs clamping around his head. He doesn’t slow down, but instead he flicks his tongue even quicker.

“Fucking hell.” You moan, your body starting to shake as you feel your orgasm wash over you. He continues to attack your clit, coaxing you through your orgasm until you’ve finished and catching your breath.

“You taste so fucking good.” He says, dancing his fingers upon your thigh, “Missed your taste.”

“Fuck me, H.” You say, breathlessly.

He doesn’t hesitate. You manoeuvre yourself off of his head and lay so that you’re head is rested upon his pillow. He leans to open his bedside drawer but you stop him, grabbing his arm and pulling his back to you.

“Did you sleep with anyone else?” You ask, knowing that this could make or break whether you were going to be fucked or not at this moment.

“No.” He says, immediately shaking his head, “I didn’t. Did you?”

You also shake your head, “I wanna feel you, H. Want you to come in me.”

He groans without even touching you yet, or you touching him. He immediately drops his lips to yours, and you can’t help but giggle and smile into the kiss. You wrap your arms around his back and pull him closer to you. He pulls away slightly, just to grip his cock, running his thumb over his tip a few times.

“Are you sure?” He says and you nod, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Please, H.” You nod, hips bucking towards his, “I need you.”

“Need you too.” He kisses you again, “Always need you.”

He leans forward, looking down between the two of you to line his cock up with your entrance. He runs the tip over your clit for a second before pushing into you. Your walls immediately envelope him, tightening around him with every inch that he moves in. You sigh against his lips, wrapping your arms around his back. He starts to move in and out of you, your walls clenching around him as he tries to find his rhythm.

“Fuck.” You can’t help but moan that into his ear.

“Taking me so well.” You drop your hands to rest on your pillows next to him, to which he takes your hand in his as he starts to quicken his pace, “Missed your pussy so much. Never leaving again.”

Instead of replying, you place your lips upon his again. From the way his eyes are screwed closed, you can tell that he’s close. If it’s possible, he starts to thrust his hips harder towards you, hitting a point so deep into you that causes a whine to fall from your mouth.

“You’re gonna come, aren’t you?” He says against your neck, moving in and out until your thighs are shaking beneath him, “Can feel you, fuck, can feel you clenching around me. Milking my cock, aren’t you?”

You hum, “Feel so good, H. I’m so close.”

When you do come, you see stars. You clench around him, and profanities escape your lips. The feeling is completely how you remember it. You hadn’t been completely celibate since breaking up with Harry, since you do own a little bullet vibrator that had been your friend. You had it for years before you met Harry, and you used it whenever he was away or if the two of you fancied spicing it up every now and then.

You come down from your high just as Harry is catapulted into his, coating your walls with his as does so. His body collapses on top of yours, his head rested at the side of yours. He’s still inside of you, and both of your chests are rising up at down at a quick pace.

“Fucking hell.” He laughs, and you turn your head to look at him. He has a grin upon his face and you lean forward to kiss his dimple, “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.”

“I know.” You smiled, “You’ve told me multiple times. I’ve missed you to.”

He finally pulls out, and you immediately felt empty. You whined slightly and he moved off of you, dropping down upon the bed next to you. You take this as the opportunity to slip from your bed. Due to not having sex in a long time, you flip your legs over the edge of the bed and prepare yourself for having to take a few steps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up and waddle your way towards Harry’s bathroom, scooping up Harry’s shirt on the way.

You know the way like the back of your hand, and it’s oddly comforting to you. Once you’re in the bathroom, you clean yourself and do your business. Once you’re satisfied, you shrug Harry’s shirt on and do up a few buttons so that you’re covering at least a bit of yourself as you do so.

Harry’s underneath the covers as you return to his room, smiling at you with dimples and all as you walk back through the door. He’s on his side of the bed, and you clamber into yours. The feeling of having someone in bed next to you makes you happy inside. You lay upon your side, with one of your hands beneath you head and Harry copies your movement. Your faces are close, and he leans forward to place a kiss to your nose.

You smile, “Hi.”

“Hi, love.”

“Are you okay?” You ask and he nods, “Do you think we’ve rushed this?”

“No.” He’s quick to say, “I don’t think we have. We needed this. I’ve never felt closer to someone as I do to you right now.”

“Me neither.” You smile, moving to grab his hand that was rested upon his side, “And I don’t think I will again.”

“Darling.” Harry says, pointing his finger in the air as he does so.

Chloe hesitates for a second before letting out a, “Ding!” to say that he was right.

It was Boxing Day, and after spending Christmas Eve and the majority of Christmas Day with your family, you had driven from your family house up to Cheshire to spend the rest of Christmas Day and Boxing Day with Harry’s family. You were all sat in the living room playing a game, sporting glasses of wine and basking in the Christmassy feeling of being together again.

After Harry’s show on the nineteenth, and the acts that happened afterwards, you and Harry had many conversations. There was a few tears from the two of you, and the conversation got heated in some aspects but you were together again, and that was the main thing. Originally, you had decided to spend Christmas separate, without each other’s company just because it was such a sudden change and you wanted to make sure that you fully weren’t rushing into things. Then, whilst sat on the sofa after devouring your Christmas dinner, with Mud’s Lonely this Christmas playing through your speakers that you realised that you missed Harry, and a Christmas without seeing him now was a Christmas that you didn’t want in your life.

You had contemplated surprising him and just turning up, but you felt as though that wasn’t fair on the rest of his family, and that’s why you messaged and asked him. He replied asking whether you were certain that you wanted to do this, and you said yes and he said that he’d have a cup of tea ready for you whenever you arrived.

He did have one ready for you, and it was everything you needed to warm yourself up after the long journey.

Anne, Gemma and Michal asked no questions to you, but you had no doubt that they had asked Harry some on your journey. Anne had welcomed you with a hug, and so did Gemma and once their prying eyes were away, Harry kissed you as though his life depended on it, pressed against the staircase of his mother’s house whilst fairy lights twinkled around them.

Anne’s next to go, hoping that her answer of, “Sweetheart,” was at the top of the list.

Chloe replies with, “Uh huh,” to which everyone “Ooo’s” in response at.

You’re rested upon the back of the sofa, with a flute of Champagne in your hand. Harry, in his flat-cap almost breaking your hear with how handsome he looked, turned around and pointed his finger at you.

“Come on, now.” He says, “Be smart with this. It’s sticky stuff.”

“Babe.” You immediately reply, knowing that was one of pet names that Harry called you the most.

People around the room laugh at Harry’s phrase of ‘sticky-stuff’ but that doesn’t mask Chloe’s exclamation of, “Ding!” followed by, “Top answer.”

You smile at the knowledge and Harry turns to you also, holding his fist up for you to fist bump which you both laugh at. He holds his hand out and you pass him your drink, which he takes a sip of quickly before returning it to you so you can carry on playing the game.

Michal is next, and for some bizarre reason to all of you he says, “Cutie-pie,” which certainly isn’t on the list. The room chuckles around you, and Harry says something about him “returning to the mines’’ which you all laugh at, but you specifically roll your eyes at.

The game soon wraps up, and you have your meal. Harry sits next to you, and had his hand upon your thigh the entire way through. The table around the two of you chatted about all sorts, many of the questions being about when your music was coming out which you certainly didn’t expect. You started to feel as though your album, when it came out, wouldn’t be very complimentary of your relationship with Harry, and you were starting to regret it slightly, but you loved all of your songs and you hoped that when you showed Harry, and the world for that matter, that they would too.

You and Harry, after the meal had finished, had offered to be on washing up duty. You had been given the task of washing up, whilst Harry dried because he felt as though his skills were better there. You let him believe that and carry on with drying all of the special Christmas cutlery that didn’t go in the dish-washer.

Once you had finished, and you were drying your hand upon the towel, you felt hands upon your waist, more specifically, Harry’s. He place a kiss to your neck and you giggled, turning around so that upon were facing him. He immediately captures your lips with his, and you wrap your arms around your neck to steady yourself from the attack of his lips. His hands immediately again go to your waist, slipping his hand underneath the material of your jumper to rest upon your skin. Once you pull away, you look at him with a smile upon your face.

“What was that for?”

“What?” He shrugs, “Can’t I kiss my girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” You ask, unable to hide your smile.

“Girlfriend.” He nods, “That’s what you are, aren’t you?”

You nod your head and place another kiss to his lips, the feeling running through the two of you without really knowing how significant he really was.

“If you want me to be. I want to be.”

He lifts one of his hands and places it upon your cheek, running his thumb ever so delicately along your skin.

“I love you.” He says, with no hesitation in his voice, “I know I’ve been shitty, and I probably shouldn’t be saying this to you, especially not in the way that I am, but I do love you and I never stopped. I swear to you, that from now on my love for you will be the most important thing, and I won’t ever, ever make you second best again.”

“That’s all I want.” You reply, leaning forward to place a kiss upon his lips, “I love you too.”

With the year that you had, and the feeling as though you’d never be with this man again, you couldn’t believe that here you were with him. He was with you, and he was yours and there was no doubt in your mind that what happened earlier this year will never happen again. It was almost as though this was something that your relationship needed to grow stronger in itself, and it surely was now.

He wraps an arm around your neck and pulls you onto his chest, “I’m never letting you go again. I probably won’t let you out of my sight again.”

“I can’t say that I’d ever complain.”

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