"Two weeks and I'll be with you."

"10,9,8."

"One week, god this is killing me."

These are the series of texts that I had been getting from Harry the moment he left. Two weeks, he said, already counting it down. He texted me as soon as he was out of my sight. I'm not even sure if he made it to the airport in the time that he said that to me.

And after that, every day I would get another text, simply just him counting down the time. I was as exasperated as him though I will say I'm not used to this. Or rather I think I didn't expect this. I thought with him having much to do within these two weeks that served as the preparation for his long awaited world tour, he would be very busy. Being a star of his rank, I didn't think otherwise. I thought he'll be busy in rehearsals, sound checking and whatnot. He has a busy life, and so do I. But his is slightly busier with the whole world's eyes on him.

Rather unexpectedly, I was the one who was late to responding to his continuous texts. I would be busy setting up my own exhibition here in Bologna. With just two weeks, that was also strenuous for me. But he would text me just about anything.

Right after his rehearsal or during his breaks, or whenever he would get some time to himself.

"I thought you were supposed to be a busy person." I said to him one day. "You have too much time on your hands."

"You simply lack the devotion."

"Are you judging me?"

"No." He would retreat. "I'm just saying you are also devoted. To your career. A very admirable trait, I really like that about you actually."

I would just enjoy our banter and smile to myself. We kept in contact with each other like this over the course of the two weeks. And now, finally much to Harry's relief, the day was finally here. And so was my exhibition.

Within the short amount of time, the look of the city changed entirely. When it was announced that Harry Styles, the world renowned superstar is starting his world tour in Italy and not even in a much bigger city like Rome but in Bologna, following Turin right after, the advertisements started covering the whole city. Hotels and flights became more expensive, the city filled with foreigners traveling all across the world to see him.

He always had that charm in him, that is without doubt.

Because of him, it gave a surplus to my exhibitions as well. But I think even without that, it had a chance of doing well because Italy is a country appreciative of arts. And I had the luck to have my second exhibition in this city.

It's almost always a rare opportunity to exhibit in the same city twice. Because people who are debuting and making their way in the industry of photography, they're trusted more to just try everywhere. It's rare for someone to trust you and have you in the same place again, even if it is a different gallery. It's a good start for someone like me.

I have been lucky to be blessed with a good head start. But after all, I did put in the effort. So I can't say it was luck.

What was luck perhaps was having Harry in my life.

"We should start picking bigger venues." The owner of this gallery, who also happened to be the manager of several galleries across the city, comes up to me. "When I heard of your success from Selene before, I believed her of course. But this is just something else."

I was referenced to her by Selene, which is why the next places were bound to happen in Italy. I just smile, finding myself a bit zoned out. Thoughts of my luck, indeed.

"Next time then. Let me know when you can get a bigger place and I'll be there again." I say to her, a glass of cold beverage in my hand. The ice is still fresh in it.

The customers are going and leaving while my phone is still dinging. I have not stopped getting texts from him ever since he landed here. I'm smiling inwardly to myself, being just as impatient as him.

He flew in from London and had to start rehearsing for the show right away since it was planned for today too. But by now, it's already almost over and it's time for me to conclude the exhibition too. The crew is signaling at me from the back about it and I hold up one finger, to show just a minute. The last customer is out the door.

There was less furniture today and more photographs which were easily taken down by a group of 10 people in half an hour. The gallery comes to a close and surely and finally I'm standing mere inches away from the place and mere inches away from Harry.

I do not know how he manages to glow in the dark.

The lights are but lights from buildings around us or from the cars passing by but he is always, always beautiful.

"There must be something in the air today." He says, finally seeing me and breaking out in a smile so wide and loving that I almost fall to the ground. "Word is, I'm finally home."

I can't decide what to tend to first; my blushing and red cheeks, my smile just as much if not more wide than him, or just at the happiness I feel.

We stand, staring at each other, hands buried in our pockets, just taking in the plain and utter joy.

He moves towards me and says, "I missed you, Jahanara."

My eyes almost well up at the words, at the affection I do not know when I'll get used to. "I missed you too, Harry."

He puts his hand forward, questioning yet certain eyes. I take it, and we walk forward with our hands intertwined.

"I can't even imagine how tired you are, right now." I say, with honesty. "Could you not have flown in earlier just to avoid the jet lag?"

"It was just planned that way." He says. "I'm used to it, this is actually not even the worst of my jet lags."

"The real challenge was to not see you." He smiles, my heart warming again.

I tighten my grip on his hand. "Let's just not do anything today and be with each other. I want to just be with you, it doesn't matter what we do."

We just walk in silence, being so content doing nothing together. Our bodies move alongside each other, his touch being enough to remind me that I have everything that I'll ever need right here.

"There is something we could do though." Says Harry, after some time.

"We are not doing anything that is too hard. You need to relax and rest." I say back. If it had not been him also insisting that we spend time together, I would have met him later. But I'm assuring that we don't go doing anything crazy today.

"It's not anything like that. You'll like it very much." He says and starts leading me away.

"Harry-"

"Don't you need somewhere only we can be?" He plays my own words to me.

I stay silent, just staring at him hatching plans in his mind.

"Then there is a place like that." He grins in satisfaction.

After following him for a while, the surroundings start to become familiar. It's not until we are right in front of the house that I realize what his plan was.

"Roberta's house? Are you serious right now, Harry? Is anyone even-"

"Ssh. You'll wake people up." He shushes me and I look at the houses nearby and it is quite literally the dead of the night.

"If someone calls the police, I don't speak Italian and we don't know each other."

"Calm down, I've got this." He just walks up to the front door and gently pushes it. It opens.

"Come on." He takes me in by my arm before I can understand.

The place is the same as before. A wave of nostalgia hits me. The rustic and wood furniture, the kitchen, the fireplace. The artworks that are too many in number for the place, and everything just as I last saw it.

"I already asked Roberta." He explains and takes out two glasses, placing them down to get to the mugs hiding behind them in the shelf, which I can only assume are for tea. "She said it's ours to use."

I smile, thinking of the lengths he still went to to be here with me tonight. He's making tea now in the kitchen so it's just the two of us. Him agreeing to walk with me, to see me, having responsibilities all around the world, yet here he is.

He turns to me admiring the view. "See, I knew you'd like it."

He places the mugs in front of us at the large coffee table. Us, sitting side by side together on the couch.

"It's quiet and peaceful and we can get some rest. See, tea? Also calming." He justified his case, more so appeasing me than himself.

"It's not me you should be worried about." I say, with the mug in my hand. "I'm just thinking of you."

"I know, I know." He says. "Though really?"

He suddenly remembers. "You don't speak Italian and we don't know each other? Wow, I'm shocked." He shakes his head.

"Not even weeks together, Jahanara." He keeps shaking his head, and drinking his tea.

"We are still in the very beginning stages." I tell him.

"We are," He starts, becoming serious suddenly. "But I want to know more about you. I meant what I said."

"I want to get to know you slowly, what you like, what you dislike. I really like you. These two weeks, Jahanara,"

He looks at me with sincerity. "I really missed you too much, I couldn't think of anything else."

"So did I, Harry."

I think about checking my phone for texts, any calls during my days too. "I was constantly waiting for you to say something. Or maybe just out of nowhere you say that you're coming early."

The conversations that had been happening in our texts came true in front of me. We enjoyed talking back and forth, spending another night in the house where we were once strangers, then friends and now something else entirely.