Written by: loveinslowmotion on archive of our own

━━━━━━━━

Harry woke the next morning to a rustling beside him and, upon inspection once he'd rubbed his eyes open, a pair of quite nice underwear that had landed on his pillow. "Is it sexy time?" he smirked lazily as he hooked them around his finger and tossed the violet fabric at Taylor sitting beside him. She jumped at the sound of his raspy morning voice, her cheeks turning red as she picked the tiny briefs up from her lap and balled them in her fist. Something else he wasn't meant to know.

"Um, it's about quarter past eight," she said quietly as she continued rummaging through her bag.

Harry groaned as he closed his eyes and curled up in a ball away from her. "Why are we awake?"

"I can't find my glasses."

"'s not really a proper answer."

"Go back to sleep, then."

But with Taylor going through her stuff beside him, he was a bit distracted. It was a lot brighter in the tent now the sun was up too, not that that was a major problem. Harry didn't seem to have trouble falling asleep just about anywhere. She knew that too — one time she'd gone to the bathroom in the middle of a game of UNO and returned to find him asleep on the floor. He'd woken up slightly less jetlagged with a blanket over him and a draw four stuck to his face. Classy.

Hearing her sigh of relief, Harry could tell Taylor had found what she was looking for, and a minute or so later she'd packed up her stuff and returned to bed. "You going to sleep a bit longer?" she asked softly as she got herself comfortable again. Harry mumbled something that didn't really sound like a yes as he cuddled up to her, head resting against her shoulder and his arm around her waist. He was tired. He could use that excuse.

"'m getting comfortable," he told her when she sighed his name in not really the way he wanted her to.

"What about when I get hungry?"

"I'll be asleep by then; I won't notice."

"I'll try not to take that personally," she said, a smile having formed in her voice. Harry laughed a little and soon fell back to sleep the way he'd wanted to for months.

━━━━━━━━

"Is it sexy time now?" Harry asked when he woke up a while later, and with his arm still around her he felt Taylor gasp in surprise. He'd been awake for a few minutes already, just watching her over her shoulder as he kept spooning her holy shit. She'd been messing around on her phone, judging by the red battery symbol at the top the whole time he'd been getting some extra rest.

"Not when you keep scaring me," she answered, which wasn't technically a complete rule out of the idea, to his hopeful delight. "I'm glad you finally decided to wake up; I'm starving."

"I said you could get something when you got hungry."

"I didn't want to disturb you."

Harry took that as an "I didn't want to leave you," which probably wasn't fair but didn't stop him nonetheless. A boy could dream.

"There's some Coco Pops in the bag."

"Oh my god you're five years old," Taylor laughed, shifting onto her back and grinning at him. She looked different with her glasses on, her blue eyes given a new frame. Harry liked that he was one of the few who got to see her with them. It was a small thing that just seemed kind of special.

"'m quite big for a five year old," he said, hand still on her stomach. He wanted to slip it under her top, touch her skin like he used to, but he knew he shouldn't. Even this felt a little close for just friends. Did she spoon with all her friends? Harry didn't think he liked the sound of that.

"You don't ask as many questions either," she noted.

"'m smart for my age."

"But you don't know everything."

This was true. At twenty, there was still a lot Harry had to learn. There was the textbook stuff — the things you could pick up a book or hit up Google for. There were all the things that would only come with age — like how to grow with someone and start a loving family that could last the test of time. And then there was the stuff he might never know — like what was going on in that pretty little head of Taylor's.

Maybe if he really was five years old he wouldn't be too nervous to ask what she really thought of him.

"It's practically lunch time now anyway, you know?" Taylor informed him, reaching up and tucking a strand of his hair back behind his ear. Harry wondered if she could tell his heart skipped a beat when her fingers brushed against his cheek.

"What's wrong with Coco Pops for lunch?" he asked seriously, his focus on food disintegrating as she sat her hand down on top of his own. He should've expected this.

As appealing as it was to lay and watch Taylor smile at him for the rest of eternity, she had other plans as she sat up and patted his leg over the blankets. "C'mon. You're starving me for longer than necessary."

They stayed inside while they ate their bowls of definitely not five year old cereal which Taylor may have continued teased him about. ("Did you import these?" "I don't want your shitty Cocoa Krispies.) Honestly, it felt normal. Running off to camp out on impulse was completely not at all normal, but sitting in their pyjamas, chatting and eating Coco Pops in the middle of the day, just felt so happily simplistic. This was how Harry imagined taking the university path would've been. He pictured staying up all night with his best friend and eating Coco Pops at whatever goddamn hour he pleased because he was a stressed out lazy law student. He knew it was so utterly impossible but he pictured how they could've met (maybe she could've been studying a second degree abroad and they wound up in the same dorm building) and could've been those best friends — the inseparable ones that everyone except them could tell they were so totally in love with each other. Maybe then they could've lasted.

Just as Harry had his last spoonful halfway to his mouth he heard a familiar click, a smile creeping on his face as he looked up to see Taylor with her camera in her hands. She must've taken it out while he was getting their breakfast/lunch/whatever-you-wanted-to-call-it sorted. "That one's gonna be really good," he laughed as she tucked the Polaroid under the blanket to develop in the dark.

"One for the wall," she agreed with a smile, and once he'd finished his mouthful Harry reached over and took the camera from her hands. "Hey!"

"Smile!" he said in that cheesy school photographer tone, but Taylor stuck her tongue out at him instead, laughing as the photo printed and he tucked it with the other.

"I don't think I want to see that one."

"You're gorgeous," Harry smiled easily, handing back the camera and trying not to think too much about how her cheeks turned pink at the compliment. "C'mon, let's get dressed and go for a walk, yeah?"

Staying true to their no peeking rule, they changed and packed their valuables and some snacks in a small bag to take with them. It took Taylor a bit longer to get ready, since she insisted that she had to wear some make up. Harry didn't see her reasoning considering they were out where no one was going to judge them, but he held the mirror for her all the same.

The two set off for the toilet block first, since they'd both resorted to using nature at some point and Taylor refused to do it ever again. ("You're not walking all that way all the time, especially not in the dark." "Easy for you to say, you're not the one with pee running down your leg!") They checked the hot water situation in the showers (both dismal) and then they were officially on their way.

"Maybe, since the water's so disappointing, we should shower together so it'll be less painful," Harry suggested hopefully as they headed back towards their camp. He'd noticed a track going off from their spot and they figured it was probably smart to leave from their central point to avoid getting really lost. Directions weren't always either of their strong points, ironically.

"Yeah, and afterward, we can braid each other's hair and plan world domination after a nice fuck against a tree," came Taylor's enthusiastic sarcastic reply. A small smirk on her lips, she skipped ahead and turned to snap a photo of him. Sticking his middle finger up at her for her response to his honestly just really thirsty proposition, Harry couldn't help but smile as she giggled and slipped the Polaroid into the back pocket of her shorts. Short shorts, he noted. Not that he'd been staring or anything. Nope. Of course not.

"Your sarcasm hurts, Taylor."

"What's to say I was being sarcastic?" she challenged. "I want to have matching braids as king and queen."

"And the sex against the tree?"

"A tree wouldn't be my first choice."

Harry was convinced by the end of this trip his heart wouldn't be beating anymore, what with all this skipping it was doing. Fuck Taylor and her casual remarks and gentle touches. (On the upside, at least if he needed CPR he'd sort of be getting a kiss.)

"So that's a yes to the sex?" he clarified, just to be sure he had heard correctly.

Rolling her eyes, Taylor fell back into step with him. "You haven't changed a bit."

"My hair's changed," he pointed out, which made her laugh. Harry had always loved that sound.

"But you're still the same Harry who went to all that trouble to cover your bandanna in glitter because you thought that would make your idea more appealing to me." This time she couldn't play down her smirk and Harry had a hard time not pulling her into a hard kiss right there, oh fuck.

"Do you remember what you said to me?" she asked, not bothering to wait for him to answer. "'Babe, I want to try something different. We don't have to, but it's got glitter so I think you'll like it.'"

Harry laughed at her attempt to mimic his voice, not nearly as low or as British. "I don't think it was quite like that," he defended with a grin.

"It definitely was," she nodded wisely. "You were all, 'Hey Taylor, I got you a present,' and I thought I was gonna unwrap something cute. But nooooooo, you just wanted to act out your life long fantasy."

"My life long fantasy?"

"Don't think I wasn't onto you, Styles," Taylor wiggled her finger accusingly at him. "I know you'd been thinking about it a lot longer than you let on."

She laughed and he smiled back at her, but there was no lie in her joke. Harry's terrible fantasy of tying the undeniably attractive Taylor Swift's arms above her head and kissing every inch of her body and fucking her with as much intensity as he could muster up was something he'd been lucky enough to make true. He'd convinced a twinkly-eyed Taylor whose confidence in the bedroom was ever-growing that it would be fun, and even when she admitted she was nervous and he told her to speak up if she wanted to stop, the only things to come out of her mouth were a string of encouragements and desperate gasps and whines. He'd left her with bruises all over her skin and sparkly rings on her wrists and had gotten her hooked on adventure.

Harry (sort of) hoped she hadn't figured out that his fantasy had transitioned to having her dress up and tie him down. Or what he did with that fantasy. Ahem.

They continued walking along with Taylor still skipping ahead every now and then, this time to try and spot the wildlife. So far they'd only seen a few birds and insects flying about, but she was determined to find something else. The most exciting thing they saw on this trip was not going to be the giant glinting web crafted between two trees by a spider who, judging by the size of its body, ate every freaking thing it saw with any one of its eight eyes.

"That was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen in my life," Taylor cringed again only a minute after her dramatic scream and flailing of arms at the admittedly very hideous sight that wasn't even in their way. "Well, apart from you, of course," she added cheekily, jumping ahead and laughing loudly as she avoided his hand going for a friendly shove.

"I am miles better than a spider," he grinned at the back of her blonde head.

"Nuh uh," she sang, skipping forward and spinning around so she was facing him. "You know what's, like, the best thing?"

Harry shook his head, unable to keep the smile off his face as she bounced in front of him in awkward surely-going-to-end-in-disaster backwards steps.

"You," Taylor answered herself, eyes widening as she tried to backtrack her words like her steps. "I mean being friends with you. That we can still make fun of each other and it's okay. It means a lot to me."

"It means a lot to me, too."

It had taken a while to get to this point again. If Harry had suggested this trip months ago, she would've blocked his number like watch out for the crazy person. (Okay, so probably not, but she definitely would've called him insane, and not in the friendly way.) But somehow he had managed to get back in Taylor's good graces, and to hear that that was something special to her had his hopeful little heart sending a spurt of joy through his veins.

Harry noticed her hesitate for a moment, her thinking face indicating more than just her focus on her walking. For a horrible moment he thought she was going to take back what she said, but then she was extending her hand out to him and he was so taken by surprise he almost forgot to step forward and take it.

"So, there's some stuff I want to show you later," Taylor told him as she turned to walk properly by his side.

"What stuff?"

"Some songs I want to run by you."

She looked at him with a hint of mystery in her eyes, and Harry smiled at her in intrigue. That wasn't what he had been expecting.

"I'd love that."

And just like that, they were walking hand in hand like it wasn't the first time they'd properly done it over a year. They walked in silence mostly, just enjoying the natural peacefulness of the outdoors. One of them would point out something here and there, the other complaining that their pointing skills sucked and they couldn't see anything. (Okay, it only really happened once when Harry thought he saw an owl asleep on a branch and it turned out to be just a weird bit of bark and Taylor refused to let him forget it.) It was nice. Really fucking nice, actually.

When Taylor eventually did let go, Harry couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. That was until he realised she was reaching for her camera around her neck, then he grinned as he leaned in close for the photo. "Lucky I bought more packets of film the other day," she smiled as she slipped it in her pocket with the one from before. "I really want to remember this."

"Me too," he nodded, slipping his bag off his back as he got an idea. She watched him curiously as he moved to one of the closest trees and threw his arms around it just for another picture. Taylor laughed and with the click of the camera Harry wrapped his leg around the tree trunk and looked at her with a pout. His attempt to look seductive just looked ridiculous — for a start he had entangled himself around a tree, and his shorts and Nikes didn't really fit the part. Unless he was going for shady jogger who was going to creep on you with his sunglasses on and whip you with his bandanna as you ran past — then he was on point.

"Do you think I could climb this tree?" he asked, which was really a pointless question since as she said "Harry no" he just took it as "Harry yes." It wasn't the worst tree for the job, but it wasn't perfect. It had some lower branches and it was fairly easy to grip on to the bark. The only thing was that the third branch he grabbed on to wasn't strong enough to support him and bent slightly as soon as he shifted some of his weight onto it. Quickly losing his balance, Harry came falling down in the dirt with scraped hands and a bruised ego as he turned to see Taylor doubled over in laughter and her phone suddenly in her hand.

"You filmed that didn't you?" he guessed wryly.

"Yes, oh my god!"

Wonderful. Now he could watch it over and over again and show all his friends. Who wouldn't want that?

Picking himself up and dusting himself off, they carried on ahead with Taylor promising she wouldn't show anyone the video. ("You say that now, but you will." "Just trust me!") They stopped every now and then to look at something or take another photo, until they found a shaded spot to have a break a bit further along. Crunching away on some apples — Harry had brought a heap of fruit with them to make up for all the unhealthy choices — they sat side by side for a while, nudging each other occasionally and grinning like they were little kids with crushes on each other. Which, y'know, wasn't exactly far from the truth.

Taylor stood up with a squeal after Harry not very fairly poked her side, raising her arms above her head as she took the opportunity to stretch. The view Harry had from the ground was an even payback though, he thought. Her lean legs looking even longer as she stood on her tiptoes, he couldn't stop his eyes from trailing up and lingering on those fucking shorts. He was sure she knew too — as she brought her arms back down she looked at him with this look, this not quite smirk that was more of just a sweet smile with something about it screaming "I remember."

"Do you wanna see something cool?" she asked, which honestly, who was going to say no to that? "Give me a minute," she told him, taking her phone back out her pocket and tossing it at him after he nodded probably a little too eagerly. He was about to give a sassy remark about having to wait until she started to do some proper stretches in front of him. He'd never taken her as a very athletic person, so even seeing her turn around in the tent earlier in shorts and a tank top paired with joggers had taken him by surprise. She seemed to know what she was doing as she got down on the ground and stretched her legs and Harry just had to look at anything but that holy shit.

"Okay, I'm not quite there yet, buuuuut..." Taylor grinned as she lifted herself up off the ground only to sink back down into the splits. She was almost touching the floor and she just looked so proud of herself it was adorable. It was also fucking hot apparently since he felt his dick twitch oh fuck Taylor.

"Wow," was all he managed to say with wide eyes as he tried to push away his impure thoughts.

"I could never do that before," she said as she got back up and brushed the dirt off herself. "I've been doing all these dance classes for this music video—"

"No kidding."

Taylor laughed at his interjection, giving a slight shrug as she continued, "It's going to be super intense and I've done so much running — oh my god I hate running. It's gonna be worth it though."

"Can I ask what it's about?"

She seemed to consider it for a moment, and Harry wasn't really sure she was going to let him in on it. After all, she was going to show him some things she'd been working on later, and knowing her she'd want to leave some surprises. But then Taylor was stepping forward and resting her hands on his knees as she leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Shake. It. Off." Then came some ridiculous dance moves that he figured must've been in time to the beat going on in her head and all he could do was laugh.

"I look forward to it," he said genuinely, grinning as she started spinning around on the spot.

"It's going to be so much fun, oh my god. Promise you'll buy it on iTunes?"

"I'll even send you flowers."

"You're too kind," she gushed as she tried to stop spinning and give him a bow, but ended up stumbling forward not at all gracefully.

"You might want to practise that," he teased, to which Taylor stuck her tongue out at him and skipped off down the track. A mix of messy twirls and awkward leaps, Harry shook his head as she disappeared out of his view. She really was something special, that one.

A moment or so later Harry heard a small scream and he could pretty much guess what had happened. Getting up and following her path, he heard an "I'm okay" from the blonde tumbled up on the ground.

"Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly as she shifted herself so she was sitting upright. As soon as he saw the streak of red on her knee he was at her side.

"I'm fine, honestly," Taylor assured him when he knelt down beside her with a worried expression. "I just tripped; no big deal."

"You're bleeding."

"It's not much."

Harry glanced at the trickle of blood running down her leg and looked back at her with raised eyebrows, but she just shrugged slightly. "I'll be right back," he told her, jogging off before she could protest and returning with his bag. He got her to straighten her leg despite her several "I'm fine Harry"s and, pulling out a water bottle, she gasped as he poured some of the contents over her knee.

"It stings," she frowned while Harry leaned in to get a better look at what she'd done.

"Fucking hell Taylor, what did you land on?"

She mumbled an "I don't know" as a small pool of blood returned to the cut. It wasn't too deep, probably just from a sharp rock, but it was more than just a grazed knee. Without a second thought, Harry pulled the bandana off his head, lifted her leg up and tied it around her as a makeshift bandage. She gave a whine when he pulled it tight to try to stop the blood flow, but at least she kept quiet until he told her he had a first aid kit in his car and to "get on."

"Harry, you can't carry me back. I'm too heavy and it's not that bad."

"You're like a twig now c'mon, I can piggyback you back to camp."

Taylor eventually gave in when he wouldn't let it go, the persistent one he was. Taking her camera back out and putting it around his neck, she slung his bag on her back after he helped her stand up. With her hands on his shoulders, Harry lifted her up and she clung onto him as soon as she was off the ground. "Are you sure you can do this?" she checked as he started walking carefully.

"You think I'm not strong enough?"

"I think I'm heavier than I look."

"Well you're not," he said firmly. "And even if you were, I could still carry you the whole way."

He could hear the smile in her voice as she leaned forward and spoke in his ear, "Your modesty is inspiring, Styles."

"I didn't even mention the part where I've been working out."

"You didn't have to."

Her hand briefly brushed down his arm before returning around his neck and okay, Taylor knew exactly what she was doing. She knew when she'd let him cuddle her, she knew when she'd done the splits for him, and she knew now when she pressed her chest against his back as she spoke in his ear. She knew how he still felt about her and Harry didn't think it was fucking fair that she could go around teasing him when he didn't know what she was thinking in return.

Even so, Harry carried her along like the lovesick puppy he was because even if it kind of pissed him off he fell for it every time.

The trip back seemed longer, but that was probably because he was carrying a whole extra person on his back. Harry never complained though, not when he had Taylor chatting away and reaching for the camera around his neck to snap some more pictures every now and then. When they made it back to their camp, he left her while he went back to his car to grab the first aid kit. It probably wasn't necessary, as she had insisted the whole time, but he couldn't help the part of him that just wanted to take care of her.

"Did you run back here?" Taylor frowned in disbelief as he returned with the box in his hands.

Harry shook his head and sat down beside her, pushing his hair back off his face. He'd jogged — there was a difference. Untying the bandana from her leg, he poured some more water on it and carefully washed the drying blood from her knee. Taylor sat back quietly as she just watched, a sharp gasp parting her lips as he dabbed some antiseptic cream over the cut. "'s just so it doesn't get infected, okay?" he explained soothingly. "You don't want any dirt and stuff making it worse."

"Thank you, Doctor Styles," she smiled teasingly once he'd fixed a bandage on, and he laughed as he put everything back in the kit.

"Now, I don't have a lollipop I can give you, but I can offer you a hug for being such a good patient," Harry grinned, wrapping his arms around her as she threw hers around his neck and giggled.

"Do you hug all your patients?"

"Only the dorky ones who trip over while trying to dance," he teased, and she playfully poked her tongue out at him. "Can I braid your hair now?"

"Only if I can do yours."

"Deal."

━━━━━━━━

Three things Taylor learned that night:

1. Harry can't braid hair.

2. Harry doesn't care what's in their sandwich.

3. Harry can always be cracked.

Harry's attempt at braiding her hair wasn't as terrible as she thought it was going to be. It showed promise, at least. After showing him a simple one first, Taylor had ended up with a collection of not very straight or even braids around her head. Running low on hair ties, he'd bobby pinned three together at the back of her head in a kind of pretzel shape that she'd just laughed at once the Polaroid developed. It was... different?

Harry on the other hand had received a quite impressive short fishtail braid, stray curls falling out at the front like every girl's dream. He looked too pretty, really. It felt a bit weird to him, too, and he kept patting the back of his head despite her telling him to leave it alone every time.

When it came to dinner, Harry hadn't planned anything special. He made a tuna sandwich and started throwing in random other things they had — a few slices of tomato, some lettuce, a slice of cheese, a mushroom, a squirt of mustard — and that's when Taylor decided she was going to make her own. Not that she thought it sounded completely unappealing — she just saw the way he eyed a banana like he was seriously considering adding that too and that had made her decision for her. They watched the light fade into night as they sat around eating and talking, the lanterns dotted around them so they could still see once the sun had set.

They'd also discovered the difficulty of building a fire. Collecting some wood after they had finished doing each other's hair, they'd had trouble getting it started, even though they had an actual lighter instead of just trying to rub some sticks together like serious wilderness people probably still did. It was another failed attempt at looking manly on Harry's part, really. Honestly, why had he asked her to come if he couldn't impress her with some basic camping skills?

Once Harry had figured out how to keep the fire alight (hint: arrange your sticks in a proper pile and throw some scrunched up paper on it) they roasted some marshmallows on sticks. Well, they tried. Too often they ended up with them charred, or in Harry's special case on fire, because they were too busy laughing about something the other had said. But where's the fun in perfection, anyway?

They stayed outside shoving roasted goo into their mouths until Taylor said the magic words — "So, do you wanna hear the album now?" Then Harry put out the fire with much more efficiency than he'd started it with and practically dragged her inside the tent in eagerness.

"Okay, I don't really let many people hear stuff until it's released, so put your hand on your heart and repeat after me." Taylor looked at him seriously with her hand on her chest and he easily obliged, trying hard not to grin. "I, Harry Styles," she started.

"I, Harry Styles," he repeated.

"Promise not to tell anyone what I'm about to hear."

"Promise not to tell anyone what I'm about to hear."

"Swear on my life not to give anyone even the slightest hint of anything I'm about to hear."

"Swear on my life not to give anyone even the slightest hint of anything I'm about to hear."

"And to give Taylor honest feedback."

"You know I'd—" Harry cut himself off when she looked at him pointedly, and he repeated her statement obediently like the rest.

"Great!" Taylor smiled brightly and reached for her phone. Unplugging it from the portable charger she'd been using, she had to take a moment to untangle her headphones, which only seemed to heighten Harry's anticipation. From what she had been telling him over the past few months he knew she was switching up her sound, and even with the taste of it on her last record he had no idea what to expect. Nobody did anything like Taylor did.

Eventually she sorted herself out and with one headphone each they got themselves comfortable on top of the blankets. Taylor hesitated as he lay on his side, head propped up by his hand, and she gave a small sigh when he looked at her expectantly. "I've never played anything for the person they're about... Not ones like these," she explained, biting down on her bottom lip slightly.

"You don't have to show me if you don't want to," he said, even though he really wanted her to. He really, really wanted her to.

She shook her head. "You're going to listen to it when it comes out anyway. I just... don't know how you're going to react. Or if I want to watch."

"You're not sitting outside while I stay in here and listen. Just press play and shut your eyes, if you're that worried," he reasoned. He understood her apprehension, but if they were going to do this, they might as well do it properly.

"Fine. This one's the first track," she said, and with a tap of her thumb it started playing. She kept her eyes open and trained on her phone as she let him listen, his fingers tapping on the blankets when he picked up the beat. She smiled a bit when she noticed that.

"I like the "boys and boys and girls and girls" line," Harry told her once Welcome To New York finished and she pressed pause for his reaction.

Taylor nodded, "I thought you'd like that."

"It's really good. Great opener. Like, a new chapter."

"Interesting." She gave a smile. "This one I wrote as a joke and... yeah."

As the next song started, Harry couldn't help his grin. It was a narrative, a piece of fiction about the boy-obsessed girl the media had always tried to pin her as. Just from one listen he knew Blank Space was going to be a hit.

"Make it a single," was the first thing he told her.

"You haven't even heard the rest yet."

"And I'm telling you to make it a single. It's brilliant. It's like a massive "fuck you" to everyone who tried to take you down."

"You think so?"

"Definitely. And I wouldn't tell anyone you're insane, by the way," he added, and she rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't worried about that, but thank you."

So far Harry hadn't seen the blindingly obvious reason for why she had seemed nervous, but as they kicked into the next track he understood completely.

"Style, eh?" he mused. "I thought you never named names."

"I said Style, not Styles," she corrected with a sly smile.

"You're not even sorry."

"Not even a little bit."

"I love it."

The only warning he got for the next was that it was one of her favourites, and it quickly became one of his. She'd explained that she had wanted her songs to sound like the emotions she was feeling at the time, and honestly she'd nailed this one exactly. It was like one big flashback — taking that Polaroid on the couch, giving her his necklace, the night they danced, the skiing accident, the goodbye. Harry remembered all of it and goddammit yes when the sun had come up he was looking at her and he still was. He always was.

"We're literally in the woods now," he commented on the coincidence.

"Funny how things turn out, huh?" she smiled softly.

"The sound was perfect for it. Really, it... It feels like us."

"Thank you."

"Did you have to mention that I cried?" he joked, smiling to let her know he didn't seriously mind. It had fucking hurt worse than anything he'd felt before and he'd realised that he quite possibly could've killed them with his ski mobile driving gone wrong, and that alone had been enough to make him start crying. That had started her, and by the time they'd gotten help they were sore sobbing messes. Not something you could ever forget, even if you wanted to.

Taylor reached her hand over to rub his thigh affectionately. "Babe, you split your chin open, you were allowed to cry."

"I'm still really sorry about all that..."

"It wasn't your fault. And we're fine now, so it's okay."

Harry nodded, though he was sure he would always feel guilty about what happened. At least the start of the next song was something to set the thought back in its spot in the back of his mind, but even then he was left with a lingering sense of longing.

"'s good," was all he said once All You Had To Do Was Stay was over. He couldn't get the line, "People like me are gone forever when you say goodbye," out of his head and he prayed that it wasn't directed at him. For all his commitment issues, the fact that they were sitting here right here now had to mean something.

Harry recognised the track that followed as the one she had been talking about before the dancing/sore knee incident. Even now Taylor was bopping her head from side to side, and he was sure she would be doing it more enthusiastically if it weren't for the headphone chord connecting them together. If he weren't lying down, he would be too.

"A really catchy "I don't give a fuck about you,"" he declared, grinning as she laughed again. "Quick question: do I have the hella good hair?"

"You might," she winked teasingly before moving on to the next song. He recognised it too, just for a different reason.

"When did you write that?" he asked curiously.

"When you're thinking I wrote that," she replied simply, barely giving him a chance to process this song telling him she wished he would come back which she had written after he had admitted to almost turning down her driveway instead of his own. She quickly moved on again with a warning, "This isn't about you, so don't worry."

It was a relief to know she hadn't penned Bad Blood about him, though he decided to keep his curiosity to himself. Instead he opted for a compliment, "The "band-aids don't fix bullet holes" line is really good. How do you always manage to write these perfect bridges?"

Taylor shrugged slightly, the smile on her face letting him know she appreciated his words. "I think you'll like this next one," she told him, and her guess was right on point.

Harry let his eyes close as he let himself get lost in the different, kind of softer sound. The truth of it hit him immediately. Insisting she'd come out of the city with him again, looking at her with the same spark in his eyes. They were still so full of uncertainty but one thing was true — Harry had never forgotten Taylor. He had never forgotten what it was like to be with her and he always regretted letting her go. His wildest dreams were a collection of real and fantasized moments with her — getting back together; spending a day at the beach; taking her back to see his parents; spending Christmas with her; cooking her dinner; going to an award show with her; singing with her; sleeping with her; getting fucking married and having kids with her. Everything went back to her and to be honest that kind of terrified him.

Of course he couldn't tell her any of this, only give her that wonderstruck (heh) smile and say, "Your vocals are incredible. Was that a heartbeat in the background?"

"Mine," she answered softly, hand coming up to rest over her chest. He would never know how she came up with these ideas.

After she played him the next song, Harry jokingly asked if she had any paper so he could write down the steps on How You Get The Girl. She laughed at his request, and he wondered if she knew he had already made the mental list.

"I love it," he told her after the following, trying not to think too hard about her use of the word. "I like that you've got some, like, dancier tracks and ones like that. It's a nice mix."

"But you think it's sonically cohesive, right?" she checked, looking relieved when he nodded. "I just want it to be different from Red, y'know?"

"Red was a masterpiece," he reminded her, and she only smiled her thank you before pressing play on the next song.

From the first tape recorder click to the last, Harry considered her foxes and hunters analogy. It felt like that — it felt like they were constantly having to find private places they could escape to, and even then there was always someone just around the corner trying to catch them. This wasn't just a song for her fans to enjoy; anyone in the spotlight would be able to relate to it. Another song she'd nailed.

"I'd never thought about it like that," he admitted. "It's really like that, isn't it?"

"Unfortunately," she sighed. "What do you think of the tape recorder thing?"

"Makes it sound like we got caught," he answered, not noticing the way she looked at him when he said "we." "'s like someone's found it on you and they're listening to it. I like it."

"Okay. This is the last one."

Taylor finished the story with Clean. It was the perfect ending, the song causing a catch in Harry's throat. He'd always known the last few years had been unfairly hard on her, that she hadn't been treated the way she deserved to be. He'd always felt guilty for that, as if he were wholly responsible for the criticism and cruel jokes made at her expense. He could tell she was so much happier now, so much stronger and more independent, and he couldn't help thinking what if I ruin that? He couldn't do that to her again, and from what he'd heard tonight he didn't think she would let him.

When the sound coming through the ear bud ceased and Harry managed to find his voice, all he could say was, "Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you," she said softly. She took her headphones back and put her phone on the opposite side of her, understandably trying not to give him too much time to deliberate over everything. She lay down on her side, conspiratorially close to him. All it would take was a tilt of their heads and the distance would be gone.

"Your vocals are amazing," he complimented, daring to rest his hand on her waist. "You've got such a wonderful voice."

She smiled at him fondly. "This is my favourite record," Taylor decided while she moved her own hand up to stroke the top of his braided back hair. "I'm glad you like it."

"You wouldn't change it even if I didn't," he pointed out, and she grinned.

"Not when it sounds this good."

They laughed and Harry was distracted by the way she started playing with the stray baby curls falling on the side of his face. Simple intimacy, Harry longed for the last time he could remember her playing with his hair like this. It was late morning and they were still tangled up under the sheets, talking and giggling with their bare bodies intertwined. It was one of the easy days where it wasn't an effort to be a couple. No worrying about who didn't agree or who was betting on their downfall; they only had each other that day, and it was those that Harry missed the most.

But he needn't miss too much, since as long as they were out here, every day was a Harry & Taylor day.

"I'm really excited about all this," she continued, the glint in her eyes making it more obvious. "I've got all these ideas that are gonna be really fun. I really want to connect with people."

"I really want to connect too," he said without thinking, darting his eyes back up from her lips to her face. Taylor giggled and bumped her bandaged knee against his as she moved her leg.

"How would you do that?" she asked, the teasing tone of her voice bringing him back to her indirect challenges of the past.

"Maybe we should get up for breakfast now."

"Do you need to get up?"

"'m just gonna take a shower, love."

"Wouldn't it be better to wait until the morning?"

"I really think I sprained my wrist over that fucking chair. Look at it; hurts like a bitch."

"Do we need to strap you up, babe?"

Taylor was never overtly sexual in her remarks, her suggestive comments coming through subtly; if you didn't know her, you might miss it. Teamed with her playful smile, Taylor's teasing always got to him in a way that no one else's had.

Which was exactly why he gave in so fucking easily and threw caution to the wind.

With his hand sliding down to rest on the small of her back, Harry tilted his head and kissed her. Harry kissed her lips for the first time in a whole year and he thought this whole thing might actually be a dream because she actually kissed him back when he'd spent so long convincing himself that she would reject him if he ever tried. It was short and soft and left them both smiling shyly at each other when they broke away as if it were their very first.

As if she knew he was about to apologise when he opened his mouth, Taylor leaned in for another, more intense as she pulled herself closer and held onto him for longer. Harry melted at her familiar taste and feel of her lips pressed to his. As much as he thought he could recall the way she kissed, nothing he had spent all this time imagining compared to the real thing. His stomach never fluttered like it was doing now over a recollection in his head. Only real life Taylor could give him that gooey heart eyes feeling that always seemed so cheesy and unrealistic until he'd felt it for himself. Then it had felt like the best thing in the world — it still did.

When Taylor eventually pulled back, it was only slightly, just enough for her to speak. Her words took him by surprise: "You took your sweet time."

"It's been a day."

"And it's been a year."

Her sentence settled between them for only a moment before they caved and leaned in once more. Harry no longer doubted that he had been the only one wishing for this moment. She wouldn't kiss him the way she was, like she was trying to tell him how much she'd missed him just as much as he was trying to do the same, if she didn't feel it too. He might've asked if he weren't so caught up in this unbelievable re-acquaintance.

Harry's brain was kind of a fond puddle by the time she pulled back again and smiled at him breathlessly. Her voice was gentle as she said, "We already broke all of Karlie's rules."

Fond puddle brain took a moment to comprehend what she meant, but when it clicked Harry gave a small laugh, "I'm sor—"

"Don't you dare apologise," she grinned.

"I wasn't really sorry anyway," he admitted, cheeky smile earning him a playful tap on the arm. Harry chased her lips curved in a smile.

If there was one thing Harry learnt that night, it was that life was too damn short not to kiss the girl he was hopelessly in love with.