HELLO. Today, I bring you something I started a couple of days before the Grammys actually happened but then I just never finished it and everything went down lol. I love writing these because I just write whatever comes to mind and there are no storylines to stick to or background information to keep in mind to build the character arc etc.

Now, as the title (which I struggle with every time, I can't lie) suggests, there'll be Grammys talk and nerves and some heart to heart between Harry and his girlfriend. I wanted to write about Harry being slightly on edge and needing a moment to take it all in. Honestly, writing without a main character is so much better sometimes. Makes the moment being written about more real for me, I guess. Like, it's easier to write myself into her shoes. ANYWAY. Doesn't matter. I'm shutting up.

ENJOY !!!

(Word count: 6,549)

Harry twisted and turned in bed until he couldn't bear it any longer. His shorts felt tangled and slid up way too far on his thighs, the shirt he wore reminded him of being hugged by his grandmother. With a swift motion, he threw the duvet that covered him to the side, sat up then turned to place his feet on the light coloured, herringbone styled parquet floor. The moment he reached the door to the bedroom, he peeked back to see if he accidentally awakened his girlfriend during the little fit he threw but she remained as dead as ever. Normally, it amused him to know she was a deep sleeper. In that moment, he happened to be glad he got out without waking her and that was it.

Finding himself downstairs, he flicked on the lights that brightened the kitchen in white, beaming from beneath the cabinets. Catching a yawn in his left hand, he put the right on the fridge handle and pulled it open. The cool air fanned against Harry's face but it only shocked him for a second. Speeding through the cold contents, he reached out towards the butter then moved back to close the fridge. It wasn't that he felt hungry but he had to do something because sleep refused to come to him. That was unbelievable in its own right and so he tried to push it out of his head and focus on the bread he slipped in the toaster.

06:49.

That was the time. The oven couldn't lie to him. Just a slight brightness coming from outside, seeping through the cracks that the blinders failed to cover. It was definitely the morning already which could have only meant one thing.

The Grammys were closer than Harry would've liked to admit or could handle. In his defence, he had never been nominated for an award as prestigious as a Grammy. To him, it came as a mind-blowing surprise that the academy deemed him eligible for any of the categories he was nominated for but like with any other recognition, he was immensely grateful. Still, with that being said, he felt a slightly heavier pressure with this particular event and ceremony because unlike most other award shows, the Grammys are always viewed by everyone around the world. Whether they watch live or catch up later is of no importance. The Grammys are everything people talk about for weeks and considering that Harry didn't only get three nominations but was asked to open the ceremony, he knew he would have to be on his A game from the moment he gets to the venue.

Harry jumped suddenly. The toast popped out of the toaster and he did not expect it. Not while he was so intensely deep in thoughts, anyway. Much to his dismay, the bread came out a lot more toasted than he wanted it to be when he decided to have a piece. In fact, the edges were burned and it made him frown but he buttered both pieces. Once done, he put the butter back in the fridge then sat down at the table and munched away on the crispy bread.

Not too long after he finished his first toast—completely zoned out and without a single thought on his mind which he happened to be thankful for—he seemed to have gained company. At first, he didn't know who he would've wanted it to be but then he didn't really mind. After all, when looking at the situation technically, he was only a guest. Granted, a permanent one from time to time, but still.

"Jesus, I didn't see you there," Cameron Azoff said immediately, laughing as he opened the fridge and pulled a bottle of water from it. "Are you alright? Why are you up so soon?"

"Couldn't sleep and I was hungry, so..."

"If I knew you were up, you could've joined me on my morning run," he groaned before gulping down half of the bottled water. Harry hummed but secretly, he felt more than grateful to not be in gear, ready to run so early in the day. In general, he didn't mind it, in fact, he happened to enjoy it here and there, but that morning in particular was already a lot for him to process and he only ate a piece of toast.

After Cameron left and Harry was alone again, he finished the second piece of toast he managed to burn. If that luck of his would continue into the rest of his day, he did not have much hope for what the Grammys would bring for him. But then he realised he couldn't and shouldn't be thinking like that because whatever you put into the universe will find its way back to you like a frisbee.

The house was silent. Sitting in the kitchen, Harry could hear someone's alarm going off on their phone upstairs, kind of silent. For a moment, he wondered if the obnoxious sound came from his phone that he left in the room then he shrugged as he imagined his girlfriend would turn it off if it was.

And it was his alarm.

He knew because not a minute later the sound of feet slapping against the marvel steps and white tiled floors grabbed his attention. Soon enough, he came face to face with the woman he shared a bed with, the one who he asked to accompany him to the biggest night in music. Rubbing her eyes while wearing his shirt and a pair of charcoal grey pyjama pants, she held his phone and her glasses in the other hand. Stepping closer and closer to him until she walked into the edge of the table, she let out a quiet cry at the impact and Harry chuckled at her clumsiness.

"Your stupid phone..." she mumbled while Harry pushed his chair out then reached for her with his arms placed in the air. Wiggling his fingers to motion her a little more forward, he pulled her down onto his lap and she curled into him without question. Granted, it took a few seconds for her to find a comfortable position but she got there, nevertheless.

"Sorry."

"Mhm. Better be," she muttered and her lips touched the skin of his neck with each word. Harry felt her fingers twist the little balls of his necklace that laid neatly on the nape of his neck and he ended up leaning his head against hers with one hand beneath the shirt she wore. As he touched her warm skin, drawing circles onto her waist with his thumb, he started to notice the static feeling of his left leg going numb. It was almost like tiny little ants tickled his foot and when he tried to curl his toes, it felt like they doubled in size.

Tapping her side a few times, she understood what he wanted. As soon as she was on her feet, Harry pushed the chair on his left out with his foot and she turned around to face him then sat down. She picked up the glasses and gave them a little clean by using her shirt then popped them on her face. Placing her upper body weight onto her arm as she leaned on the table, holding her head up while yawning, he picked up his plate and placed it in the sink. Then he proceeded to wash it because doing anything was better than nothing. At least, as his nerves began to jitter, he thought that by busying himself he will be able to concentrate on something other than the award show.

"Harry?" she called his name in a way that caused his blood to cool, knowing she would get him to open up but for the moment being, all he could do while the tap ran was hum, "Hm?" and so, she continued by asking, "Are you alright?"

"I'm just... thinking."

"About your nightmare?"

The question made Harry turn. As far as he knew, there were no nightmares haunting him through the night. At least, there were not any dreams that he considered to be bad. In fact, he couldn't remember a thing from when he was out, unconscious.

"I didn't—no. It's uh it's not about that."

She hummed in confusion, trying to piece together what else could've bothered him, head gently tilted to the left as her eyes focused on his back. In her defence, it was way too early in the morning for a difficult conversation but Harry appeared to be in distress and she knew she wouldn't be able to let it go.

"Wait," he turned around and leaned onto the side of the kitchen furniture, palms against the cool surface and his right foot crossed over the other for a better stance. "How did you know I wasn't sleeping?"

Chuckling before she answered, the words seemed to surprise Harry. "The entire bed was moving every five minutes."

"Shit," Harry mumbled.

"Now, I'm a good sleeper but when you throw yourself into the mattress and my body jumps up on the other end, I'm bound to get up, aren't I?" she teased him with the exaggerated response and stood up to walk over to him. Harry shook his head and let out a low chuckle. When the distance ceased to exist between them, he grabbed her hands and placed them around his neck.

That's when he felt his heart find a balanced rhythm again. His nerves calming down little by little. Breathing regulating like he began to fall deeper into sleep. Just as he hooked his fingers together behind her back, then rested it on her, Harry let out a little sigh. A puff of air that weighed him down a lot more than he thought.

Next thing he knew, his lips were touched by a pair of even softer ones. The pair he had grown used to over the past couple of years. Years he spent being the happiest he had ever been. As the thoughts invaded his mind and the gentlest touch of his girl's fingers twirled and twisted his hair around, the curl of his lips became uncontrollable. With that, the kiss he never wanted to feel come to an end... came to an end. All because of him and his inability to control the grin that widened on his face, quite literally from one ear to the other.

As his girlfriend pulled back slightly, their lips detaching with the thinnest line of saliva connecting them at last, it came to her as second nature to roll them into her mouth before suggesting, "I'm guessing you don't want to talk about it?"

"To be really honest, I would rather make out with you for as long as humanly possible," he flirted with her as he lifted his right hand and pushed her glasses back up onto her nose. Then, he went in for a quick peck, then another, and his little flirting happened to be a success because the brightest smile lit up her face and she giggled while leaning her forehead against his chest, hiding from him. Harry left with no other choice but to giggle. "Is that a no?" he wondered with a pout then leaned forward to rest his chin on top of her head.

Much to his dismay, she moved as she said, "We can but I want to know what's got you so on edge first," and it made Harry sigh. He felt as though his thoughts were stupid and he thought she may laugh at it. Not seriously laugh at it but just as her initial reaction which she would then explain by aww'ing at him and he did not want that. Not in that moment, anyway. Harry supposed it would be fair to say he wished she would baby him for a second and let him feel overwhelmed, anxious and pretty much terrified of what laid up ahead.

"I don't know. It's just... I don't know, baby," eventually, he sighed and they let go of each other. Harry leaned onto the edge of the surface behind him while his girl crossed her arms on her chest. Although he tried his best, his eyes lingered on the way she stood because the motion of her limbs pushed her breasts higher and a lot more together than they would've been normally. The lack of support from not wearing a bra beneath the pyjama shirt caused his mind to wander, thoughts beginning to form that shouldn't have been there when he was supposed to talk about his feelings.

"Reckon my tits know the answer?" she asked him with a cheeky grin on her face and the question, along with the teasing look in her eyes and throughout her tone, caused him to blush as red as he possibly could. Hell, he was sure his entire face burned off from how hot his blood boiled.

"Stop!" he laughed and hid his face.

"C'mon," she tugged on his hands and interlocked their fingers as she closed the space between their bodies. Taking a couple of steps back, their arms were stretched out between them and he watched as she tilted her head. Then she had to push her right shoulder upwards to push her glasses back up her nose because it slid down once more. "Tell me, baby."

And he decided he would. Right in that moment. Whenever she called him baby, he gave in. He was gone. Boom. Done for. Nothing could bring his heart back to beat again. Not once in his life did he feel the way that word made him. If he could've done it, he would've bet all of his money on the fact that it was her who brought this instant reaction out of him. She had to be, he thought. Other people have called him by that pet name and he was fine. He swooned because he felt in love at the time but with her? Holy shit. The comparison couldn't have been more laughable. In fact, there was no way to compare her to anyone else. Harry was sure of that much.

"Let's go outside. I'll tell you there," he promised her because even though he didn't lie, he also needed a couple of extra minutes for himself. He had to gather his thoughts. Plus, if they are outside, they have less of a chance of being overheard by his manager or his wife.

"Harry, it's freezing," she complained as Harry already made his way towards the living room. His hand on the handle to the sliding glass doors, ready to pull it open, he took a second to look around then move away from his position.

"There," he said while he threw the hoodie towards her, the one he wore last night when they shared a bottle of wine on the couch with the large living room light in the corner turned on. There were some scented candles burning that Glenne loved and it truly set the mood with a movie on and a cheeseboard on the coffee table in front of them.

Just before Harry turned away to open the door, he caught her lifting the hoodie to her face to smell it like she always did. Obviously, it was a fresh one he pulled from the shelf yesterday but he knew she loved the cologne he wore and it warmed his heart each time. Hell, it gave him the bloody butterflies in his stomach! With that feeling swarming through him, she followed him outside and they sat on the chairs that were around the glass table.

Before saying anything, Harry's eyes followed the soft waves of the pool water, blown by the gentle wind that also caused his hairs to stand straight. The moment felt peaceful with the quietness of the area, the brightness of the morning. Blue skies and birds chirping.

Then out of nowhere, she said: "I'm so fucking scared, too, you know," and caught Harry completely off guard.

"Of what?"

"C'mon," she chuckled, shaking her head at him, her tone indicating she knew he knew what she meant. When she turned to look ahead instead of keeping her attention on him, Harry kept his eyes on her. There was something perfect about her in that moment. Flying strands of hair that crept from beneath the hood of his hoodie on her head. The way her legs were pulled up on the chair so she could stretch her pyjama pants over her toes because she felt cold. Her little nudges against the black frame of her glasses because they kept sliding off.

"Okay, well... that's what I actually have been thinking about," he said as he gave in, in the end. She would end up inside his brain one way or another, he might as well make it easy for her to do so, right? Less suffering for both of them.

"Yeah?"

"Just the whole thing... it's fucking crazy," Harry said while staring into nothing but simultaneously feeling like he opened up his entire body just to give his girlfriend access to everything he was going through emotionally.

"What part freaks you out the most?" she wondered with the blunt question and Harry loved it. She never held back. Perhaps one of the first things he discovered about her. Also, one of the first things he felt attracted to. It happened unknowingly. One day he woke up and felt like listening to her random thoughts, exploring the complexity of her mind while also being put on the spot by the first question that came to her head.

"Giving you over to the world," he answered eventually. He had to think about the answer. On one hand, the thought of the red carpet, performance and his categories made him extremely nervous, while on the other hand, his heart trembled at the thought of the love of his life being exposed to all of that with him.

Frankly, through the couple of years they have been together, they didn't do many public appearances. The reason behind this was to make sure her life could remain as untouched as possible while their relationship was developing. Jumping from a relatively normal, working class lifestyle to a much more luxurious one without any time to prepare for any potential shock, wouldn't have made sense in their situation. In fact, it would've ruined the growth of their feelings. A 9 to 5 job like hers in comparison to his whenever and wherever required schedule was a lot to get used to, understand and work around. After all, their jobs was the most important factor when it came to addressing how they could make the relationship work. Precisely why they stayed away from flashy events as a duo, on top of not being sure whether they were ready for something so next level. With that being said, considering that they felt more comfortable with going out to eat at home or run out for some groceries together, little rumours of something more serious going on between them, began to rise. The two never confirmed or denied anything, they sort of let it brew and dealt with the sneaky photos and videos being posted of them privately.

Now, they felt ready. It made sense, to phrase it better. She managed to have a conversation with her boss about the potential backlash the media would bring to the company, considering how well-known it was globally. At first, she thought it wasn't important to bring awareness to this because a corporation as huge as that should be able to deflect it with ease. Then her and Harry sat down to have the conversation about going 'official' for the public and he suggested she mentions it. Better to be upfront than face consequences later. In Harry's mind, the most important thing was to ensure he wouldn't interfere with her professional life. She got her current job after hundreds of rejection letters and he wasn't about to watch her get fired for something that came about because of his popularity. Other than that, they also went over some things with her family, although she left it to Harry to explain so her siblings and parents would actually listen and understand.

Some would think that's doing too much. Others wouldn't even bat an eyelash. To them, this made sense. Both of them knew where they stood and the people around them were aware of possible changes. The night of the Grammys was perfect. With the spotlight already heavily focused on Harry, why not throw in some special red-carpet photos, right? Give the people something to chew on until their jaws hurt and it forces them to quiet down eventually.

At last, Harry felt a little squeeze on his right arm. Turning his head that way, he caught his girlfriend reaching out to him and ultimately bringing him back into the real world, pulling him from the wildness of his thoughts that managed to drown him in a matter of seconds. 

"Sorry, did I—," but he never finished the sentence, rather, he cleared his throat and leaned back on the chair comfortably. With his legs stretched, the wind licked all over his skin, especially the back of his knees. A shiver ran down his spine and he felt his nipples go hard under the shirt. "I keep saying this but I—I really don't know what's gotten into me."

"I mean, it makes sense," she told him with a little shrug. A moment of silence followed and her fingers fiddled with the strings of the warm, Harry-smelling hoodie. Mentally, she blamed her slight distraction on that. It would've been true to say out loud, anyway, considering that the material oozed of Tom Ford and she happened to be obsessed with it. "Tonight is a big night and I'm really proud of you, you know?"

Harry blushed. That's all he managed to do. He also giggled softly. To describe how he felt, appeared to be impossible. There was no way to put it into one word. All he knew was the warmth that spread through him, ignited from the pit of his stomach. Heating him from the inside out, he believed his skin turned hotter and his heart started beating faster. Blood boiling as it pumped in his veins. Harry also noticed his smile becoming much bigger, stretching his lips until his cheeks began to ache from how large it had gotten. The only way he could relieve the feeling was by laughing shyly and allowing his body to give away just how flustered the comment made him feel.

"You're so blushy today I think I'm falling in love with you all over again," she told him which made his situation even worse. Harry groaned as he let his head fall backwards and then chuckled because there was no way to do anything else but go through the feelings. The feelings she created in him. "Okay. I'll stop. But I do mean it—I'm proud and I love you. I don't think you have a lot to worry about."

"Yeah?"

"Baby, you are fucking amazing at what you do," she chuckled, looking at him finally as she placed her feet down on the floor and turned to him with her body. Unable to form her thoughts properly, his girlfriend carried on with the next thing that popped into her head because she had to make sure Harry would be alright. Even if she could only achieve it for the time being. "Your voice alone is able to create an environment where people feel safe while being completely amazed by your talent. You're going to be so good tonight, I know it."

"Even without having been at the rehearsal?"

"I don't need no rehearsal to know my man can put on a hell of a show," she told him as a matter of fact. Standing on her feet, she walked over to Harry then lowered down until her knees were bent and she was in a comfortable squat. To balance herself, she held onto his thighs and her palms radiated so much heat, Harry thought the touch would burn a hole into legs. "You know you're one of the best performers and your work is genuinely brilliant. If the Academy doesn't see that, it's their loss."

"You're right and I know that. I also know that I don't need awards to measure my own success because everything I already have makes me feel like the luckiest man alive," Harry explained as he let his guards down completely. With her, it didn't take much. In fact, it happened to be easiest with her. "At the same time, though, I can't help but wonder how nice it would be to receive one of those gold awards."

"Hey, no, of course," she squeezed his leg gently, catching his eyes and holding the stance as long as she could before she had to lift her hand and push the glasses back. "It's only human to want some sort of recognition for everything you do, other than fame and money, right? Especially in music... I think it's so hard to find the satisfaction in just knowing that making music is enough."

"You think?"

"That's how it comes off to me, yeah," she nodded. "In general, anyway. Plus, people are greedy creatures, aren't they? So to have these award ceremonies where it's all about them for a minute or two as they are announced as winners, it fills that gaping hole in their chest for some time. Physical trophies are a nice thing to collect, too, right?"

"I guess," Harry assumed. He actually thought that, too. He enjoyed looking at the ones he won when he was in a band. A reminder of all the things he had achieved at such a young age. A chapter of his life that was now behind him. "But that's the thing. I mean, I never want to be reliant on these things to know I'm good at what I do, you know?"

"And you're not, I promise you," came the answer from her immediately as she linked their fingers together. Easily lifting it, she pressed a couple of kisses on the back of his hand then fitted it against her cheek. "It's okay to want these things, Harry. It's okay to think you deserve them, without it meaning you need it to validate your work."

He let the words sink in. His brain started to process everything until it randomly stopped and he didn't realise because the eyes he got lost in were brighter than the sun that was predicted to bless the skies that day. He saw his reflection in the glasses and her eyes and he noticed the fallen eyelash on her cheek, the little cracks in her bottom lip that no lip balm could get rid of and she continuously peeled back while biting it.

"You're wonderful," he said, starstruck by the woman before him. Harry sat up and pushed his fingers beneath the hood so he could hold her cheeks. "I am absolutely crazy about you," he told her in a hushed tone, so close to her face that he couldn't not peck her mouth.

"Yeah?" she giggled between the kisses, fingers gently wrapped around his wrists.

"Mmm-hm," he nudged his nose against hers before he turned his head the other way and kissed her again. And for a second time. Only to seal it with a third kiss and a barely audible, "Yeah," then a slightly more articulated, "C'mere," as he helped her up and sat her on his lap.

It took a moment or two for her to get comfortable atop him but once she found the right position, she relaxed against him. Arms around his neck and her lips attached to his cheek, she kissed him over and over again, finding comfort in the soft skin on his cheekbone, on his temple. Harry enjoyed it more than he ever could've admitted it. Her fingers in his hair, twirling and twisting the strands when she wasn't massaging his scalp the way she always did to help him fall asleep faster.

Harry turned his head to look at her and it caused her hand to slide down the back of his head. Still tangled in his hair, but resting more on the nape of his neck. "You know," he started off, glancing between her lips and her eyes. "If I could keep you a secret forever, I would do so in a heartbeat. That's wrong of me, though, isn't it? Because every other person would cling to the chance to show someone as beautiful as you are off the first chance they get."

"Well..."

"They would, wouldn't they? And it's not even that—it's to do with how keeping you away could make you feel."

"How could it make me feel?" she wondered, finding the conversation amusing which put a smile on Harry's face, too.

"Okay, I will be honest," he said with a big sigh escaping his lungs swiftly. Then he inhaled another large puff of air and went, "I don't want you to think that me wanting to keep you a secret is for any other reason than wanting you out of harms way."

"Yes, I know that," she reassured him. Caressing his face softly, it was her turn to cup his cheek and the touch left him feeling content. "But the thing is, Harry, that feels unrealistic. Doesn't it?"

"Mmm."

"Selfishly enough, I want to be there for you with things like this."

"You do?" he asked back in a surprised tone. She has never accompanied him to anything like this before and some parts of him assumed it was because she had no interest in these events. He had a hunch most people would've jumped on the chance to beg for a free ride by his side but not her. Why not her?

"Harry, you get to attend the most amazing events and visit the prettiest places. I would be a fool to not want to be there with you," she told him honestly, laughing softly. And so, he turned out to be wrong. She wanted to be there with him like he wanted her to be with him and there didn't seem to be a doubt about it. Not anywhere but in his mind. "To be honest, my only concern was always whether you'd want me there."

He laughed before he could utter, "Are you crazy?" with his hand gripping her thigh to assure her further. "Every red carpet I had to do once you and I got together felt like torture. All I would think about was getting through the damn thing so the night would end sooner and I could be back with you."

"You never told me any of this," she replied with her eyebrows pulled upwards, genuine surprise mirrored in both of her eyes. "I mean I knew you were happy to be home because you always drag me onto the couch and we cuddle for at least half an hour, with you still dressed from head to toe, but I—I don't know if, um, well... I just didn't know if you really wanted me there because you would've asked."

"Oh, my love," he whispered with his arms around her shoulders, kissing her temple. "Oh, my little love."

"And you asked me to the Grammys, so I just assumed I was right all along," she shrugged as her feet swayed back and forth, head tilted gently to the side. She genuinely did not mean to say anything hurtful or blame him for not having asked, simply, that's what made most sense to her and she was okay with it. No way she would've been prepared for anything like that so early on.

"That was never the reason—I mean, of course, I wanted you there all this time. The reason why I didn't ask was because, and don't take this the wrong way, we were too new, right?" giving an explanation a try, Harry was focused on ensuring she understood and wouldn't take offence to it. Not that she was the kind of person to take things to heart easily. She could take criticism.

Depending on what it was regarding.

"That's true," she hummed, agreeing. "You didn't want to put the relationship, or what was growing to be one, up for a challenge. Which makes sense."

"Exactly," he responded. "Why strain it when it's not yet strong enough to withhold certain challenges?"

"But now you think we're ready," and it wasn't a question. Even though it kind of could've been one.

"Well, I know you are a force to be reckoned with and I know I love you and I still want you by my side when I have important events to attend," Harry explained how it made most sense to him and hoped it answered her curious thoughts well enough. "We're on the same page when it comes to us which just means that when we do go public, there will be no awkward conversations to be had later. That was my ultimate goal with us."

"Aw, baby," she pouted and pulled his face closer to give him an Eskimo kiss. "You had an ultimate goal for us?"

"I have a lot of goals for us," Harry said like it wasn't a big deal yet his heart plummeted out of his chest as those words came out of his mouth. Playing it cool in front of her as though he had to prove something. "But that's not the point right now. The point right now is that you will be my date to the Grammys and I'm absolutely terrified of what's going to happen once everyone knows that I'm yours."

"Ugh!" she groaned as she pulled him to her chest and gave him the tightest hug, gripping him as hard as she could so as to keep him together. "Harry-Harry-Harry. My talented, gorgeous, most loving Harry. I love you like crazy, you are aware of that, right?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows before asking, "Where are you going with this?"

"Right?"

"Yes," he gave in eventually, gripping her side before running his fingers up and down on her skin, hand fitted under the hoodie and her shirt.

"So you know that whatever happens after tonight, I won't love you any less. In fact, I won't even care what people will say about me or us or you. Right?"

"That's an ideal outcome, yes," he agreed. "But baby, I know how you get sometimes."

"Well, you're just gonna have to trust me when I tell you that I won't be actively seeking the bad stuff out," and she promised that to herself the moment Harry asked her to attend the ceremony with him.

"Yeah?" he chuckled and in return, he received vigorous nods from his girl. "Mkay, good," he muttered, kissing her to finally stop the conversation all about this topic. Harry felt like they exhausted it from the angle he felt overwhelmed by and for the morning, that was plenty. Not to mention, she never would've admitted to how it truly made her feel to go official with him.

Not right away.

But she would. After everything went down and they were done with it. Harry guessed that for right now, she was too busy being there for him. Her emotions could wait because she would put him before herself, no matter what. Considering how pushy she could be, stubborn for a better word, he would never get her to talk as freely as she wanted him to be.

But that was okay.

She had told him it was. During one of their many heartfelt conversations, he let it slip that past partners would often times use him as their personal problem dumpster but would rarely return the favour. His girlfriend was never one to act that way to begin with but when she found out about this, she made sure that he knew he would always come first for her. No matter what. Nothing was or could ever be more important than him. Although this came with a slight imbalance at times, they worked through those bumps and were back to normal.

Just like that morning as they decided to sit out front for a while longer. The only reason they retreated to the house was so Harry could make his girl some breakfast and that happened to be his way of making up for the rude awakening of his alarm. While he was in the kitchen, though, he got hungry himself so he decided to double the breakfast and have some with her. Once done, they finished off the movie that they just turned off the night before and commented through it when something happened.

"Well, that was shit," she laughed when the credits began to roll. Both of them were comfortable on the couch at that point, legs on the coffee table and a blanket over them. Granted, it barely covered Harry but he didn't mind. His right arm was across her shoulders and his fingers rolled the little bump at the end of the hoodie string around.

"I can't really remember how we got to the ending," he mumbled, rubbing his eye with his left hand and he felt his girl turn over to him until her head was on his lap. Harry looked down and chuckled when he noticed she curled up and her face was pushed into his stomach, glasses already off her face. "Y'alright?"

"Mmm. So sleepy," she told him quietly before sighing in relief at the touch of his fingers in her hair. "Magic hands."

"They do magical things, don't they?" he teased with a silly grin on his face and the comment made her peek at him with one eye.

"Not now," she turned him down, pouting while fiddling with the blanket to put it over her body properly. "Just wanna nap before we have to do anything for the evening."

"I must be really boring to be around, hm?" Harry questioned and continued to massage her scalp gently. "Actually, don't answer that."

"Wasn't," she chuckled.

"Gee, thanks," he scoffed.

"I'm joooking," she said while she pushed her index finger into his stomach and he let out a little yelp. "I think."

"Meanie."

"You love me, really."

"Can't control how my heart feels, I'm afraid," Harry gave a big, dramatic sigh but couldn't help the grin on his face.

"Fuck me, I better inspire your next hit single," she laughed at him, now with eyes open so she could see how the comment didn't even get to him. The curiousness inside of her caused her to wonder if there were already songs she helped him create but then buried the thought because that was too self-centred of her, right?

Harry was about to say, 'I've already written thousands of albums about you in my head' but instead, the only thing he managed to come up with was, "I will not be justifying anything in this moment and time, Your Honour."

And with that, they both laughed.