"Melody."
"Melody."
"Melody."
"MELODY."
I groaned and rolled over. "Whaaaat?" I growled crabbily at the door.
"Are you decent?" Harry called through the door.
"I'm in my pajamas. I'm obviously not."
"I'm coming in."
"Go away," I groaned into my pillow.
"In a few hours, you'll have your wish. Plane leaves at one. Get up!" Harry said, yanking the blanket off me.
I shivered at the sudden decrease of warmth. "Give it baaack," I whined, hugging my pillow to my stomach and flipping over so I was on my back again. It helped a little with the coldness.
"Get up."
"Go away."
"Get up."
"If I told you I wasn't wearing pants?"
"Then you'd be lying. Who sleeps in denim shorts?"
"Like, I said," I cracked open an eye. "I'm not wearing pants."
"Mel, I can see them. Those are definitely pants of the shorts variety."
"No, that's my underwear."
"Quit fooling around. They're obviously–" he reached out and poked my hip. His eyes widened.
"Not shorts," I finished for him, rolling off my bed and landing on my stomach on the cushioned shag carpet I had placed next to my bed for the purpose of being able to roll off. I reached up and pulled open a dresser drawer, fished around in it for a moment, then pulled a pair of pants out of it, which promptly landed on my face. "This works," I said through the fabric.
"Come on, Mel," Harry said, sounding annoyed. "Get up! Now!"
I stood up, annoyed. I threw on a random T-shirt and the facepants, then trudged downstairs to get food, ignoring Harry.
Once I had gotten an apple, I forcefully closed the refrigerator door and peeled the sticker off, then bit into it angrily.
Harry walked into the kitchen, smiling with his arms stretched out for a hug. I walked right past him and into the living room, sitting my ass on the couch like the lazy butt I am.
"What'd I do now?" Harry asked plunking down on the opposite end of the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest like I so often did.
I ignored him and reached for the TV remote. Once the magical box of moving pictures was on, I went to my recordings and turned on Friday's new episode of Sofia the First, my favorite TV show. Yes, I am aware that it's meant for five-year-old girls. Do I care? No.
"Mel," Harry said. I continued to ignore him. "Goddammit, Melody!" He knocked the remote from my hand, causing me to jump in surprise, and turned off the TV. He sat on the coffee table in front of me, and I avoided his gaze. He grabbed my chin and forced me look at him. "What did I do, Melody?"
I didn't answer.
He let go of my chin and put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward so his forehead was resting on his palms. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which looked like it hadn't been combed yet, and sat up. "Look, if we're going to make this work, I need to know this stuff so I don't do it again."
I hugged my knees to my chest and looked at the Christmas lights wrapped around the stairway railing. "I'm not a morning person," I lied.
He snorted. "Now that's bullshit. You're more of a morning person than Niall is, and that's saying something."
I didn't answer for a while. When he started to stand up, I spoke in a whisper. "You woke me up from a dream about Will."'
"Melody? What are you doing up so early?" my mom said, coming out of her room with a towel wrapped around her head. "Hi, Harry."
"Hi, Ivy," he answered, giving a small wave and grinning at her.
"Yeah. Good morning to you too, Mom," I said under my breath. Louder, I said, "I actually don't know what I'm doing up. This idiot woke me up and still hasn't told me why."
"Melody!" my mom gasped. "I raised you better than to call people idiots!"
"It's fine," Harry said. "I know I'm an idiot."
"No, it is not fine," Mom said.
"Mom. Go dry your hair," I said, running out of patience.
She stared at me for another moment, before turning around and closing the door to her bedroom again. I heard the hair dryer turn on.
"What was your dream about?" Harry asked, not missing a beat.
"I don't know," I said. "I just remember that it was about Will."
He looked to be deep in thought for a moment. "Let's go get breakfast."
This took me by surprise. "What?"
"I said, let's go get breakfast," he said, a trace of a smile on his lips. "This is going to be the last time I can take you on a date before I have to leave. Let's go."
I opened and closed my mouth, trying to say something, but my throat wouldn't let it out. "But..."
"Nope. No buts," he said, grinning. "Go get dressed."
I exhaled loudly, then stood up, defeated. "Fine."

---

I walked down the stairs, carrying my sunglasses in my hand. Harry was sitting on the bottom step with his back against the railing and facing the wall. When he heard me, he glanced up and smiled.
"I was starting to wonder if you had jumped out your window and ran away," he said, standing up.
"I should've! I could still do that," I suggested, looking back up the stairs.
He laughed and grabbed my hand. "Let's go before I give you any more ideas."
"Hang on," I said, dropping his hand and picking up a marker. I scrawled a few words on the whiteboard next to the door in my sloppy handwriting, then capped it and dropped it on the table below it, then grabbed the car keys and headed outside, pulling Harry along with me.
"Really?" Harry asked.
"What?" I said, adjusting the mirrors.
"'Harry kidnapped me and is forcing me to go to breakfast with him'?"
"Yeah."
"And what was the rest of the stuff you wrote?"
I turned to look at him after buckling my seatbelt. "Vehicle taken, destination, and return time," I answered, putting my phone in the console and turning it up.
"So we're going to where?"
"That is for me to know and for you to find out," I said, grinning. I put my sunglasses on and looked at him. "Whaddya think? Smart, right?"
He looked at me and laughed. "I don't get it," he admitted after a moment.
"They're identity censoring sunglasses. Before they started blurring faces on TV, they'd put a black bar over anything inappropriate or someone's eyes to hide their identity," I explained, backing out of the driveway.
"Smart," he agreed."So... where are we going, exactly?"
"Nice try," I said.

"I dare you to sing your favorite song," Harry said suddenly around bites of food. "Loudly."
"And off key?" I asked.
"No."
"Dammit."
"The whole thing," he said once he swallowed.
"I hate you," I said, standing up. He just grinned cheekily and pulled out his phone.
"Go," he said. I put my sunglasses on and stuck my tongue out at him.
"Short falls and little sins..."

---

"That was great!" Harry said when we left the small restaurant. "I didn't know rootbeer could taste like that!"
"It's made in the building, you dingus. I told you that forty-two times. It's fresh," I said, buckling my seatbelt and checking my mirrors before backing out of the parking space.
"What's that song called? The one you were singing."
"'The Outsiders' by Needtobreathe," I replied. "Why?"
"Just curious," he said, tapping something into his phone.

"Well, here we are," I said sadly as I pulled up to the security gate of the airport. I paid to get in, and the gate lifted. There were tons of people outside the entrance. "Must be a military plane coming in or something. That's always a big deal."
"Let's hope it's not something else," Harry said, looking worried. He started scrolling madly on his phone. He's probably on Twitter. "Shit. Niall...."
"What?" I asked, parking the car and grabbing my bag from the back seat.
"It's not a military plane. If you're coming in, we've gotta go. Now."
"Of course I'm coming in. I didn't pay to park for no reason," I said, getting out of the car.
"Make sure to keep your sunglasses on. Do not take them off."
"Wasn't planning on it?"
"Tuck your hair into your hat and stay close."
"No problem," I squeaked, hiding under his arm after I tucked my ponytail into my cupcake hat.
I somehow managed to tune out the world around me, because the next thing I knew, we were inside the quiet building.
I lifted my head from Harry's armpit and squealed, running over to the escalator. Once I was up, I ran to the other side and went down, then ran to the up escalator again. As I passed Harry, I shouted, "I never get to do this!"
He probably rolled his eyes and shook his head, but I wouldn't know because I was busy acting like the five-year-old I truly am.
Once I had gotten tired of running between the two escalators, I bought a cup of coffee and plunked my butt down in a booth and proceeded to add as many of the tiny cups of liquid creamer to it as I could.
Harry slid into the booth across from me with his own cup of coffee. He took a sip and grimaced. "How do you people drink this stuff?" he said, making a face.
"I wonder the same thing every day," I replied, taking a sip of mine.
"I think tea is more my thing." He pushed his cup away from him.
"You British people and your tea," I said. "And yet you guys wonder why we make fun of y'all for it. I don't get it. All tea is is watered-down spices that taste like the tears of small children and pepper."
His jaw dropped. "How dare you insult tea!"
"How dare you insult coffee!" I shot back.
"Tea is healthy for you!"
"At least you can make coffee taste better! Tea still tastes like pepper water no matter what you do to it."
"At least we have food that go with our preferred drink," Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Oh, yes. Tea and scones," I said in a high-pitched British accent. "They're just so delicious!" In my normal voice, I said, "Ever heard of coffee cake? How 'bout donuts? THOSE don't go well with tea now, do they?"
"What are the health benefits of coffee?"
"It's not made in factories, so it doesn't pollute the air," I said, not missing a beat. "Can you make patterns in your tea with sweeteners? Oh, wait! You can't add anything to tea to make it taste better!"
"Ever heard of honey? And what's so great about coffee anyway?"
"Oh, yeah. Honey. Bee vomit. How appetizing," I said sarcastically. "At least coffee doesn't have the same consistency as water!"
"Flight 32A to London, England now boarding," the ceiling said.
I looked up. "God?! Is that you?!"
Harry laughed and stood up. I followed suit and hugged him as the first people from the flight appeared and went to baggage claim.
"This war isn't over, you know," he said into my hair.
"Damn straight! Coffee's so much better than tea!"
"Sorry, love. Can't agree with you," he said, resting his forehead on mine.
"I'm sure 97 percent of the population of your continent can't agree with me," I said. "But coffee is WAY better than tea."
"We'll continue this when the plane lands," he said. 'I'll call you as soon as I turn my phone on."
"Don't bother. You're going to be tired. And I'm probably going to be sleeping. Text me and if I'm still wide awake I'll answer."
"Only wide awake?"
"Yes. Only wide awake. I'm not going to look into the sun hidden inside my phone for anyone. Not even you," I said.
"And here I was thinking I was special!"
"Oh, trust me. You're special, all right," I said, smirking.
"Flight 32A to London, England is boarding now."
"There it is again!" I said loudly, grinning.
"And you think I'm the special one," he said, pressing his mouth to mine.
"You are," I murmured against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck.
"Get a room!" That sounded like a "heartbroken" teenage girl. Probably gonna go cry over Ben & Jerry's ice cream when she gets wherever she's going and complain about how horrible her life is because her boyfriend broke up with her right before Christmas to the point where you want to choke her to death.
I turned around and pushed my sunglasses to the top of my head. She looked like an orange with white hair. Now I see why her boyfriend would break up with her. "Piss off, you prissy little rich kid. Get over it," I retorted before sliding my sunglasses down again.
Harry laughed. "That wasn't very nice. See what coffee does to people?"
"Oh, piss off!" I said, shoving him as far away from me as I could, which was about an inch.
"Aw, Mellie doesn't like people insulting her drink!" he said, squishing me against his chest.
"Last call for flight 32A to London, England."
Harry frowned. "I'll see you soon, okay?"
I nodded. He started to walk away, but I remembered what I needed to do. "Harry!" I ran after him and pulled my bag over my head and held it out to him. "Don't look until you're in the air. Promise?"
"Promise."

Notes

HAHAHAHAHA.
#AmericansvsBritish is trending on Twitter.
Trying to pick a side....

GOD. I felt like Harry should have said "I love you" at the end but it's too soon to do that! I'm so mad at myself I just can't even.... no. -.-

What's your opinion on tattoos? Yay or nay?

And y'all had better love me, because it is 6 am. I have been working on this for 12 hours and I'm about to pass out, so you're welcome and good night.