𝕰xhilarated. That's what it felt like being back on stage after a year and a half.

Playing those songs out to an audience, the people out there looking up at him in adoration as if he's their whole world.

Those people showing up just to see him sing songs about his emotions and his experiences.

Nothing in the world could come close to the level of serotonin he feels when he's on stage.

Well, almost nothing because the moment his eyes swayed to the VIP booth where Jeff and his other friends were seated, his gaze captured a pair of bright blue ones smiling widely at him.

After that, his eyes kept "accidentally" flitting towards that particular seat always catching on those sapphire ones hypnotising him with their smile almost making him forget that he was in a room full of people expecting him to sing and dance, and just have a good time out there with them.

It has now been close to two hours since the show ended — they've all cheered, had dinner and tipped slightly close to the edge of drunkenness as the high of performing live slowly descends.

Harry takes a sip of his wine, subtly glancing up at the blonde seated next to him talking animatedly with Sarah.

He wasn't so sure about how his band — who'd never met her before and only heard him cribbing about how she "broke" him — would react to her.

But she won them over almost immediately as Darlene is always wont to do.

Mitch remained a bit skeptical for a while longer but a few words of appreciation about his guitar solo in 'She' were enough to have him quietly grinning and thanking her as if she were some sort of a goddess.

She is a goddess, Harry thinks watching her nod at something Sarah said.

He'd seen her post from earlier today and had been hoping, praying that that was her ONO outfit . .

Turns out it was.

Dressed in a baby pink silk dress, her shoulder length golden hair delicately waving down, the silver pendant gently resting on her collarbones, the silver hoops in her ears . . .

Her glossy pink coated lips, sweet and so inviting pulling him in bit by bit taunting him to touch them with the tips of his fingers, to feel how soft they are . . . .

She looks just like a dream, so unreal.

And he can't believe she's actually here.

He wants to blame it on the alcohol, this sudden unbearable urge to pull her in and taste her lips right then and there, but he knows that's not true.

He's been wanting to kiss her ever since she ended up backstage after the show, grinning and practically skipping like a child as she approached his sweaty frame and threw her arms around him.

"You were so good. Oh my god", she'd whispered in his ears, his arms coming around her waist to pull her closer.

"I'm sweaty".

"I don't care".

He'd asked her her favourite song off the album, not failing to take note of the slight pink tinting of her cheeks blossoming at his words as she contemplated her reply.

Quietly she had smiled and shrugged with a shy gaze.

"Fine line".

Oh my god, she's made for me — he'd thought, beaming at her reply and nodding in approval.

He didn't tell her it's his favourite too.

That is what he ponders over as she helps him out of the cab, ushering him into his house and flicking the lights on whilst he almost stumbles over his sloppy feet.

He giggles — he's past tipsy but it's more the intoxication of the brilliant night he's had than the effect of the expensive wine he'd consumed in not so small amounts — and hears her tut.

She steps up, grabbing him by his arm to keep him from falling and gestures for him to lead the way to his room.

Grinning like a toddler, he takes them upstairs and pushes open the door sleepily shuffling inside.

Plopping down on the bed, he meets her eyes which silently stare at him from the doorway reluctant in stepping foot inside the room.

"What are you—".

"I'll get you some water".

His mouth falls open, brows scrunching up when she disappears from view only returning a minute or two later with a glass of water.

Tentatively, he takes it from her hand gulping it down in one go.

She not so subtly glances down at his now bare torso and faded sweatpants that he managed to change into when she went to get the water.

Biting her lip, Darlene sighs.

"Get some sleep".

"Where are you going?".

She freezes midway in her step to turn and leave the room.

"I'll sleep in the guest room. That's where my stuff is, right?".

He had her luggage brought to his house earlier in the day, a frown crosses his face when he realises that her luggage is in fact in the guest bedroom.

But he doesn't want her to leave.

"Stay".

She averts her eyes, pressing her lips together.

"Harry—".

"Stay. Please".

Blinking, she nods slipping her heels off and wandering to the other side of the bed.

He watches her fluff up a pillow and place it between the king sized bed as a barrier separating the two sides.

Amused, he laughs.

She shushes him, "You stay on your side and I stay on mine. Got it?".

His teeth sink into his bottom lip.

"What if it accidentally gets misplaced during the night?", he whispers.

She swallows, hesitantly pulling her gaze to his.

They look at each other, unmoving and silent. Words seemingly not enough to convey what they really think, reluctance and fear a guiding reason that's holding them back.

Glancing down, she exhales a shaky breath.

"Then you keep your hands to yourself".

"And what if you're the one breaking the rules?".

She looks up sharply, stare narrowing at sight of the cheeky grin on his lips.

Outside he's projecting confidence but inside he's so fucking nervous.

"It won't come to that".

"But what if it does?".

Darlene sighs loudly, "Then, Harry, honestly I think I should go sleep in the guest room instead".

His eyes widen.

"No. I didn't—".

"Shut up and sleep".

"And you promise you won't leave?".

It's weird how hard those words seem to be hitting them. It's like being swallowed by a black hole and suddenly facing your reality.

You're inside, you're gone for good.

But you're not alone. You don't have to be.

She doesn't have to be. Because he's right there. Waiting for her. Welcoming her in.

If you go down, I go down.

So stupid, so sentimental and yet so tempting.

Curling her lips, she looks up at him, sincerely.

"I promise".

***
i'm so tired 💔