Prompt #1:

"Ummm........Hey Charlie, It's me. Listen, I know its been months, but I just got back into town and wanted to see if you still wanted to. Listen, I completely forgot to get rid of the tickets. I switched assistants, and I just.....

Beep.

"Look, it's Harry again, I have those Lolla tickets I got when we...that I wanted to take you to. I'll be round in LA at the time. I'd still like to go, if you can.  Call me back."

Charlie stared down at her phone like it would sprout  a voice and explain what the Hell her ex was thinking. Their break up had been horrible.  She's not even sure she would call Donald Trump some of the things she had called him. At the time, she had been entirely sure of her decision to leave him. He made her feel inept one time to many. He was Harry Styles and she was just some girl he met at Glastonbury.

Charlie Rotterdum had been completely surprised when she had been picked to play a Sunday set on the acoustic stage at Glastonbury. She could not believe it. She had sent in her videoed demo like everyone else but she had no idea she would be picked. Charlie had sent in 325 tapes this year. She had counted. Basically ever cent that she earned went to rent, food, guitar picks, or train tickets to London.

Her style was open and fluid. She played acoustic music that she wrote herself. On Sundays when she busked on the streets in London, she took requests. Charlie could mimic anyone's voice and had learned that people would leave much bigger bills if she mimicked Cher's bass or JT's falsetto than if she sang her own songs about being your own heroine or how to tell off your boy in 10 ways. It was the only warm Sunday in March when her life changed.

Margaret, her best friend since birth had come with her to London, and they had big plans to spend the night getting pissed, but that was dependent on how much money she made. So, today it was an all request lunch hour. She had sang Blues Traveler and Oasis, Bowie and Prince. When someone requested 'Kiss You' by One Direction on a lark, she had them. Charlie secretly loved the XFactor darlings and she knew this one, knew it well. When she sang the upbeat happy song like a lament, the faces around her told her that she had hit upon something.

Rather than drinks at the pub, Charlie and Margaret bought beer and rode the train an hour home to watch the footage Margaret shot. She was a little drunk , but she thought it was magnificent. When she re listened to it the next day sober she still thought it was special. So she sent it as her demo, and the acoustic promotions department from Glastonbury called her. She could do her own stuff, but they also wanted her to do  few covers and they basically required her to do her version of 'Kiss You.'

Harry Styles must have known someone in that department, because he was standing side stage at the beginning of her set all those months ago. He hummed to the tunes he knew and rocked to her originals. Charlie gave the best performance of her life, and she gave it for him. She looked out over the crowd, but in her head, they were the only two there.

When she got to 'Kiss You' her last song of the night, she let her eyes drift to him on the na na's and found him grinning at her. He looked proud. Once she smiled back, he let his eyes wander down her form and his dimpled grin transmuted to a sexy smirk and she had to turn back to the audience.

He waited for her after.

"That was a really lovely rendition," he smiled at her and she knew her cheeks were hot.

She was not a blusher. He gave her a cheeky grin and extended his hand.

"Hello, I'm Harry Styles. How are you?"

She took his hand and suppressed a shiver. "Charlie Rotterdum and I'm wonderful. I just played Glastonbury!" She finished excitedly!

"You just smashed it at Glastonbury, Charlie! Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'd murder for a pint, can you manage that popstar?" she poked his stomach. Her hands wanted to migrate to other parts of his body but she minded her manners and smiled big when he took her hand.

"Well c'mon then," he dimpled at her pulling her off the side stage and toward the center of the festival until they were in the artist tent. He strided up to the bar but was impeded when she stopped short.

"Wha?" he looked back at her slack jawed face. "what's up, Charlie?"

She raised her hand gingerly, pointing non do discreetly as a black clad figure with crazy curly hair, "That's Matty Healy," Charlie breathed.

Harry huffed a laugh, "Yes it is, should I be offended that is took you five minutes to take the piss out of me, but you seem to have stopped breathing over him?"

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not. I'm a huge fan. You are cute and all Styles, but that man......He melts my knickers," Charlie finished in a whisper, eyes glued to the 1975 frontman.

Harry bent over at the waist and laughed a gigantic breath. It took him over a minute to gain his composure. Wiping tears from his eyes, he looked up at Charlie, "Want to meet him?"

"You, You know Matt Healy?"

"Well, we've met and he asked me to borrow money once on radio, so I think it's safe to say boundaries have already been crossed," Harry joked.

"Oh, I remember that call or delete. I thought he seemed like a dick, but you were just as nice as everyone paints you to be," she refocused her attention on the person with a light hand at her elbow. He was gentle and kind. "I'd like to meet him, and I'm very happy I met you," she confessed

"Well, let's get his attention and hope you can keep your pants on," Harry suggested.

Harry lightly tapped the leaning rockstar on the shoulder, "hey Matt, how're you?"

Curly looked over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes before brightening a tad. "Ta, Styles, you're not playing, right?" He asked with a mocking brow.

"No, just heard about a couple of acts I shouldn't miss, including this one. Matt Healy, this is Charlie Rotterdam, this is her first big gig, and apparently she's a big fan," he dimpled at her.

Charlie was momentarily distracted by Harry's smile, lighthouse indeed, but snapped to and turned her attention to Matty. "Hi, I'm Charlie. It's lovely to meet you, I am a big fan!" She enthused.

Matt looked amused and shook her hand, "likewise, I'm sure. How'd this," he gestured to Harry, "find the likes of you?"
Charlie looked down at her scuffed boots and  peasant dress, festival appropriate for sure.

"I'm a street performer and one day I played 'Kiss You'. The recording of it got me my spot here." She shrugged and turned to see Harry watching her with a happy twist to his mouth.

"Ah, think our cover of 'What Ma

kes You Beautiful' is still more watched then some of our actual videos. How lucky we are to be at his court. It's good to be king, huh,Styles?" Matt smiled, but his words were cold.

Harry looked about as uncomfortable as Charlie felt. So, she rescued him. Touching his long plaid sleeve, "that pint, Harry?"

"Yeah, sure. Have a good night buddy," Harry said as he led her a bit further down the bar.

"Sorry, he was fine when I met him. Maybe he's a moody artist?" Harry extended the benefit of the doubt.

Charlie shrugged, "They say you shouldn't meet your idols. What are we drinking," she changed the subject.

"Pints I believe," and he signaled the barman.

Five pints a piece and hours later, Charlie had her head laid on the bar helplessly laughing as Harry told a story about slipping right past a pap who didn't recognize him.

"So, I said, who're you waiting for? 'Some styles kid, but he's never coming out and I need a piss!' I nearly pissed!" Harry trailed off as he pulled his phone out. "Listen, I have to get to London. I have a flight to New York in the morning. I hate to leave," he took her hand, "but I've had a fantastic time with you and I'd like your number, at least to share it around. Can I have it?" He looked her in the eye.

"Yes, but Harry, you don't have to be my agent, you can just call me." She sent her dirty blonde hair tumbling sideways and the sudden shift made her realize that she was drunker than expected.

"Ya ok?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, I should probably eat something." Charlie explained.
"Where you staying? Can probably drop you off."
"Um, was meant to set up tent, but I arrived late, and never got round to it. Guess I'll try the hostel?" She tried for a hopeful tone.
Harry's lips pressed into a hard line, then his eyebrows rose up. "I've an idea. There's a room with my name on it that I can't use. Why don't you take it?" He focused on her right eye, then left.

It was a big gesture, extremely nice, but that was his reputation. Charlie wasn't sure she should take him up on the offer, but she was tired and an empty room anywhere during a festival seemed like a waste.
"Ok, thank you so much Harry. Not sure what I was going to do."

"Probably go set up tent rather than drinking with me," Harry smiled.
"True, this is clearly all your fault, you owe me that room, pop star!" She giggled.
"Clearly, let's go."
Harry guided Charlie to a secluded lot and they got in the back of a black SUV.
"How long have you been performing?" He asked.
Charlie laughed, "most of my life, I held my family captive on the couch every bank holiday for some song I'd written."
"I like your songwriting, a lot. Want to write with me?" He looked genuine and she tried to figure out his game. Harry swallowed, "I mean it, I also can introduce you to some people. You're talented and it sounds like you've been working really hard for a long time," he took her hand as he finished and gave it a supportive squeeze.
"Ok, let's write, but you don't have to help me Harry, I can make my own way. Got myself to Glastonbury, didn't I?" She lightened.
"That you did, love, that you did. Though I think kissing you helped," his eyebrows raised, "I mean, kiss you."
She laughed at him loudly, "clearly, this was all thanks to you!"
He smiled with her and let go of her hand to open the door and guide her into the hotel. It was late and the lobby was empty. Harry put her name on the room and tried to put a credit card for incidentals.
"No!" She protested. I'll cover my room service." She insisted.
"Ok," he shook his growing hair.
He walked her up to the room and left her at the door with air kisses to each cheek that burned until she fell asleep with aching cheeks from her wide smile.
When she woke up her drinking on an empty stomach let her know how bad a decision that was.
"Uhhhh," she moaned before there was a knock at the door. She stumbled to the door and tried to reject the full English provided.
"No marm, this was requested and paid for, it'll go to waste if you don't eat it," the uniformed bellman informed her.
She took the meal and set down to eating. She felt tremendously better for it and pulled out her phone.
'Thank you,' she sent to her newest contact.
'Welcome, hope you enjoyed your breakfast, that bed was something too.' Harry replied.
Charlie stopped and breathed in, he'd slept in that bed the night before, what an image.
'Definitely something' she responded.

And life continued, she busked and waited tables and wrote. The only difference was that she texted with Harry, all day some days. And he called to say goodnight sometimes as well.
When he texted her that he'd be home tomorrow and would like to hang out, her nails got shorter.
'I'm not in London until Sunday,' She sent.
'I'll come to you, probably safer.'
'Ok, grew up in Winchester. Know it?'
'No, but I can google,' she read his sarcasm even without the emojis he seemed to shun.
'Ok, when.'
'Tomorrow, do you work?' Harry asked.
'I do, but I have the evening shift, so I'm free until 5.'
'Ace. We can get brunch.'
'You vastly overestimate Winchester.'
'Well, you live there, so it is already highly recommended.'
Charlie grinned,sometimes his texts were vaguely flirty, 'guess Holmes chapel must be thrilling in that case.'
'It's not, but you should visit with me sometime all the same.'
She blinked, ok.
'See you early?' She changed subject and sent her address.

When Harry's Range Rover pulled up, her heart was in her throat. All the texting and chats had brought on a case of feelings she had not expected. Charlie had obviously been attracted, but she had not even entertained the possibility at first. She was nervous about this hangout, uncharacteristically so. Her dating history was not one of a shy girl. In sixth form she had two steady beaus, in uni, before she dropped out, she dated and hooked up a fair amount. Now she worked hard and really only blew off steam when she had to when a bloke seemed willling. Nerves were not her styles, a guy was lucky to share her company, even more so her bed, she reckoned. But she was ahead of herself. Harry, Harry styles, she reminded herself, was there to hang out with a fellow musician.
She exited the door as he stepped out of his vehicle, "hey Harry!!" She smiled big, especially because they were matching in their skinnies, tanks, plaids and boots. "Glad you got the dress code."
He stopped his forward motion and looked down at himself, then her, "you too!" He beamed. He walked up to her and enveloped her in a giant hug with his gangly arms. His air kisses had changed to, they landed on her cheeks. She remembered to breath as she pulled away, avoiding his eyes so she could get her bearings.
Harry released her shoulders but kept a hand on her waist, "where are we eating?"
"Actually, I'm cooking, come in!" Charlie moved to the side and made a sweeping gesture with her arms.

"You're gonna cook for me?" Harry looked overly emotional.

"Well, it's just eggy bread, but you provided me with breakfast, I thought I'd return the favor," she followed him in.

"This is so good!" Harry exclaimed around the crispy bread.
Charlie laughed at his over the top response. "Do you never get home cooking?"
"Not often, when I'm home. I'll cook a bit though. Could for you, if you'd like?" He said, focusing on his next bite.
"Yeah, maybe one day after hustling in Piccadilly Circus," she laughed.

Later she said, "want to walk  the village? Should be paparazzi free?"
"I'd love to, but I need to get back, I fly to LA tomorrow," he put his plate in the sink.
"Oh," she felt unreasonably disappointed as she walked him to the door. " I'll walk you out."
At the door, he wrapped her up in his arms and went to kiss her cheek. At the same moment she turned to kiss his, and they found themselves connected at the mouth. She inhaled sharply, which parted her lips. Harry took full advantage. His tongue slid into her mouth and played against hers until they were both breathless. Charlie pulled back to suck in air.
Harry leaned in once more and pecked her lips.
"I'll call you soon. Can I see you when I get back next week?"
Charlie nodded, her words had left her.
She watched him drive away and leaned her back against the door, sliding to the floor, giggling like a loon.

Loony is the word she would use to describe their relationship. They jumped in with both feet. When he returned from LA, he made her that meal, breakfast. Charlie began spending more time in London, especially at Harry's house.
It felt like a dream, and it was, except for one thing. Slowly but surely, Harry introduced Charlie to more and more industry people. She was spending time in the studio, writing sessions, and had two bites from labels. When she checked, she discovered none of them were people she had contacted.
She loved his support, but she wanted to do this herself.
The end came when she came home livid. Charlie had finally gotten a meeting with an A&R guy at an indie label she loved. The meeting went great, and she expected to sign with them. As she was finishing up and bundling her contract to take to a lawyer, an intern asked about Harry, and then she knew. She got the meeting, the contract because of him, not her talent.

She had asked him a month ago to stop meddling. When she confronted him, he didn't understand her anger.
"Thought you would be excited love, I just dropped a word, I didn't even make a call. They loved your cover,"
And then she was calling him a paternalistic misogynist and walking out the door.
A week later she got a call from someone in LA she had contacted right around Glastonbury and she was moving.
Now, she wasn't even sure how he knew she was living in California.
She sat and pondered, should she call him? They hadn't spoken since she walked out. Harry had called and texted for days after, a few little salvos for the next two months, now, nearly 8 months later, a festival?
Truthfully, she wanted to go to the festival. She wanted to see him. So, she called him.

That's how she found herself boarding Irving Azoff's jet very early one July Friday. Harry had arrived at her apartment in a chauffeured car, and looked so sleepy and cozy, she had to stop herself from ruffling his hair and cuddling under his arm. This was a favorite look, so private, in his joggers and sweat shirt. He had slid over and hugged her.
"You alright?" He quieried.
"Yeah, am fine thanks. You?"
"Good, happy to see you. Excited! Matt said he'll be happy to meet you again," the last disclosure seemed to physically pain him.
It had never been a sore spot, mostly because Matt's first impression was so poor and Harry, well, he had become so much more than his wonderful first impression. When they were together, Harry had teased her about her crush mercilessly.

That was until they saw Matt Healy again, and he made it very clear that he fancied Charlie. He showed her attention, edged out Harry, and made passive-aggressive comments when he could. Charlie was not sure if it was about her, or about some jealousy the front man harbored towards Harry, but Harry did not like it. Some of their best sex had come after seeing Matt at one event or another. She was truly surprised how much she enjoyed his proprietary-ness on those nights. She thought maybe it was because he was so polite and respectful towards her in public, easy with the PDA, but after a run in, she was his, and he made sure she knew it, said it.

These were not thoughts she needed to be having while in an enclosed space with him, she could feel her body warming along with her cheeks. He glanced at her and quirked a brow, but glossed over it.

"What are you most excited about?" He said while rummaging through his bag for a pillow. He tossed her one and she recognized it as the one she had preferred from his London home.

She picked it up and cuddled it, it smelled of him. She tried to discreetly sniff"Um, prolly the 1975 honestly. I love 'a change of heart'."

The look that crossed Harry's face could only be described as pained. So she rescued him from Matt Healy again,"but, I wouldn't mind avoiding Matty."

Harry hid his smile. "Are you hungry," he moved on.

"A bit," she admitted, and he hopped into the kitchen and grabbed them both the parfaits she liked. Always so considerate.

Four hours later they landed and found their way to the hotel. "I didn't get separate rooms," he explained, opening the door with the wave of the key card, "but it's a suite, so there are two rooms."

Charlie nodded and felt a welling of hope that took her off guard. She wasn't sure what she was hoping for, but she knew she hadn't forgotten the thoughtful little things Harry did, or his eye crinkles, or morning voice.

Lollapalooza was just across the way at Grant Park as Harry had rented a suite at the Hilton for its proximity not luxury. They could hear the music starting up and Charlie was excited immediately.

"So what's protocol Haz, how will we get around? Is security meeting us in the lobby?" She pulled open her suitcase to grab the slip dress she planned to wear.

"Ummmm.....well, I kinda wanted to try for low key, with the shorter hair I seem to be able to get away with more, especially in jeans and t and trainers. We may still have to be side stage. Let's try it today and if it goes bad Jeff has a plan B," harry concluded hopefully.

Charlie blinked. All she could think was he must be kidding. "Harry, we'll get mobbed. I'm not sure about your plan." He looked so hopeful, and she sighed, "ok Haz, we'll try."

"Thank you Chaz!" He beamed and she realized she had called him by his old nickname too. Before her blush could turn Aubergine she sidled to the shower. While in the cubicle she wondered what outcome she wanted this weekend to have. As time had passed, her anger about his meddling had mellowed. He was kind to a fault, and was aware of how rare his meteoric rise was. They should have talked. She should have at least told him she was moving. Did she want him? She chuckled to himself, the answer to that was always. Was he even interested? She laughed at herself again. She'd follow his lead. Charlie was a direct girl, if he showed interest, she'd tell him she missed him. This time they needed to have conversations not just chemistry though. She threw on her swingy dress and docs and walked out to see Harry napping. Of course, she seriously wondered if he was narcoleptic.

"Oi," she kicked his foot and Harry's eyes blinked open, "get in the shower, Deathwish."

He groaned and coughed shooting her the bird on his way to the shower and she smiled, the moment echoing many before. How easy to fall back into Harry Styles.

After he was showered and fresh, he put on a beanie, which made Charlie crack up, "it's July," but Harry shrugged and went about his business donning a pair of blue skinniest and a white t. This one more opaque to hide his tattoos.

"Truthfully, in hoping the cloud is too indie for One Direction," he smiled as he opened the door to their suite.

"Harry, you realize that you are much bigger than the band, right?" She openly laughed at him.

He shrugged and waited for her to get on the elevator. They went down to the bottom floor and found themselves walking out to a bright afternoon with a wall of sound greeting them. They walked across the street by a gorgeous statue of a nymph with outstretched wings.

"Think I'd like a tattoo of this," Charlie remarked, "where should I get it?" she asked him coyly.

Harry tipped his head to the side and looked at the statue and then at Charlie.

"It would look great as a back piece," he suggested, and then he leaned closer and put his great hand upon her trapezius, "like the arms here, and her waist here, where you nip in, and her skirt ending down here." His hand had followed his description and her pulse had increased to match, her chest heaving when his hand was resting at the crest of her bum. She'd loved when his hands wrapped around her there to hoist her onto his hips. She looked up at him and he was staring, a familiar look in his eyes. He leaned down, but they jumped apart as an impatient driver honked at the light. Harry ran his hand over his beanie and onto his neck and gave a chagrined grin.

"Let's see whose playing, yeah?" He took her hand and headed to the grounds.

The day went smoothly, Charlie noticed a few people snapping discreet pictures of Harry, which may make tomorrow more interesting, but no one troubled them. She caught some lingering stares, but those could have just been admiration, he was gorgeous.

They watched Augustana from side stage and she enjoyed watching Harry rock back and forth. The hand holding seemed to be a consistent theme. He kept her close to him. It felt like them, but without the kisses. She missed his mouth. The pouty lips and the final peck that he liked to end with, his coup de grace. Charlie was distracted all day.

By 7 pm they were both starving and parched.
"There's a tapas place right across the street," she suggested.

"Sounds good," Harry agreed.

They walked over and found a deep hued darkened booth with cushy seats and ordered the avocado margaritas. Harry ordered a flight of tequila after their first course of small plates and Charlie knew she was in trouble. Harry was affectionate, even more so when drinking, but Harry on tequila was so handsy and exuded such sexual magnetism the thought of him made her blush. She toasted with him but made sure her pace was slow.

By 10pm, his head was buried in the curve of her neck and goosebumps had broken out over her skin. He hadn't dared to kiss her, Harry was just breathing on her neck, but his hand was cupping her knee and she was worked up.

When the waiter went by, she flagged him down and asked for the check. She extricated herself from Harry and his lazy eye gave her a clue how deep he was.

When they made it back to the hotel, his steps were clumsy as they exited the elevator. While she was fishing out her key, he pushed himself against her front to back and she could feel him through his jeans.

"Charlie," he whispered into her ear and and started to move her hair away. She closed her eyes and braced herself. She had to stop now, if his mouth landed on her, they would never stop.

"Harry," she began and pushed the door open following it and leaving his grasp, she turned to face him. "We can't, not like this. You're drunk, and we have to talk. Can we put this on hold until tomorrow? Please?"

He pulled out his finisher and pouted at her, "you don't want me?" And she could hear the touch of hurt he was trying to play the clown over.

"That's not the problem, I'm sure you can feel I want you. But, we can't fall into this again. It needs to be a decision, and not one fueled by tequila and hormones," Charlie took his hand and laced their fingers. "I'm going to bed, let's talk tomorrow."

As she opened the door to her room he said, "I miss you."

"I know," she smiled kindly and shut her door, sliding down it and breathing heavily. That was the first time she'd ever turned him down. His want of her created a reciprocity she never quite understood.
She shook herself and stood up, slipping into her t shirt (his) and leaving her panties. She tossed and turned, until she gave up and slipped her hand down, as always, rubbing herself to a finish with his grassy eyes on her mind.

The next morning, she was up long before him. She could hear his loud drunken snores until about 10am when there was shuffling, a groan, and the sound of the shower turning on. She picked up the phone.

When he came out with pink cheeks 45 minutes later she gave him her kindest smile. "I ordered you pancakes. There are eggs too, but I wasn't sure how your stomach would be. Dark roast as well."

He blinked at her owlishly and finally smiled gratefully. "Thanks Chaz," and he sat down to eat. They made conversation and planned their day, but neither mentioned his come on the night before.

Three hours later, Charlie was standing in front of a stage dancing wildly. Harry had attracted more attention today; pictures of him from the day before had made it to the internet and More people were on the lookout. He decided to stand side stage again, but she wanted to be in the crowd for the unknown band they were watching. She could feel his eyes on her though, and it warmed her like it had the very first time. She looked up and caught his eye, and the nostalgic want there made her breathless. That reciprocity asserting itself again. She needed to slow this down, before she couldn't.
Charlie found her way to the side of the stage and used her pass to get to him.
"I'm going to explore a bit. I'll meet you for The 1975 at 7, alright?"
Harry gave her a confused look, but nodded his head and leaned in to hug her, she pushed her hips back from him and wrapped her arms loosely around him to save herself. She didn't miss the hurt crossing his face again though.

Charlie wandered the festival, beer in hand and thought about whether this was just a bad idea or the worst idea in history. However, all she could think was that they were not over. Logistically, he was in LA a lot, and she lived there now, she'd been recording on her own merit, and she had come to an appreciation for the connections Harry introduced to her and the experience she had gained writing with him.

She wanders for another hour before she found a booth she couldn't walk away from.

When she was finally done, she found her way to the main stage and tried to fight her way backstage, she nearly gave up before she saw Matt.
"Matty!" She cried and was echoed loudly. He looked over, his ringlet falling into his eyes and somehow caught hers. He motioned to a security guard and the neck-less man came to get her.

When she was pulled through to him, Matty wrapped his arms around her and pressed himself tightly against her. She felt slightly uncomfortable.

"I didn't know you were about?" Matty said to her. And kept his arm around her as he guided her to the side of the stage. "You come in to see us?"

"Um..." she looked around for Harry, but didn't see him. "Yeah, we did, well the festival," she continued looking around.

"Who's we, who're you looking for," Matt asked.

"You seen Harry?" Charlie asked.

Matt's eyes narrowed a bit, "that's still going then? I'd heard you broke up." He kept a proprietary arm about her.

"No, we did, but he'd bought tickets for us, for this, and we decided to come."

Matty raised happy eyebrows at her, "you're single then?"

"Um.....yeah," Charlie didn't really know the answer to that.

"That's good, in a minute I need to set up, but I heard you were in LA, would like to see you next time I'm there, I think next month," Matty smiled and she could admit his attraction to herself.

"Um...yeah, ok," Charlie agreed.

"Hey, how're you Matt," his deep voice rasped from behind them and she and Matt simultaneously turned to look over their shoulders to find a tense looking Harry.

"Am well, thanks for bringing this one, Styles, haven't seen her in months. I've got to make a move. You guys watching from here?"

Harry looked at Charlie unsurely, so she answered for him. "Yeah."

"K, I'll be sure to sing for you then," Matt directed to Charlie. She blinked from Harry's eyes as Matt squeezed her shoulder and gave a swift pat to Harry as he walked away.
Harry swallowed before saying, "did you have a good day? Do what you wanted?"

"Yeah, did you?"

"Yeah, you excited for the gig?" He pointed to the stage where activity was ramping up.

"Yeah, we've never seen them together."

"No, we haven't," Harry agreed but didn't comment further.

They played chocolate first and Charlie bopped around bumping her hip into Harry to lighten the mood. He finally loosened up and moved along. They stood closer and closer to each other. By the time sex played, their fingers were laced together. Somebody else found her back glued to his front and smooth gliding against each other.
Harry sang into her ear and she shivered, when he pulled his chin off her shoulder, he saw it while the song kept playing.

"What's this?"

"Oh, that's what I did all day," she held her dress to her chest, but took the straps off as she had in the henna tent. She leaned over to show him. The Daphne tattoo was painted onto her back just as Harry had described.

"Wow," he breathed and ran cautious finger tips from flared arm to full skirt, "beautiful."

"I love how open she is," Charlie looked at him over his shoulder. "It's how open I want to be. I get scared and run, but I want to stay now, to be willing," she looked him in the eyes.

"Chaz....Charlie, what are you saying?"

"I'm sorry Harry, I ran," she shrugged back into her dress and turned to him. "I felt like you were taking over my life and that my success was really yours. Your help was high-handed, but you wanted to see me succeed, share your good fortune, but I wish you hadn't. I should have talked to you. And you can't do it again, please, let me do it on my own this time."

"Babe, do you?" He trailed off, "what do you mean?"

She leaned in then, "I don't want Matty or somebody else," she grinned at her own cleverness as said song finished. She kissed him and he wrapped his gangly arms around her tightly. The kiss continued as the music changed. She smiled to herself, perfect.

"I guess I've had 'a change of heart.'