|| Harry’s Point of View ||
“I never understood what love was really like, but I felt it for the first time looking in your eyes.”
I hummed my solo in Loved You First lightly to myself, the song stuck in my head from our performance last night on The X-Factor USA. My fingertips tapping endlessly on the cold metal counter top as people rushed in and out. Cold, frigid, December air gusting in and temporarily chilling me every time someone opened the front door.
I sat on a bar stool in the small café by myself, waiting for Taylor to come out of the restrooms. The light chatter from the people surrounding me, creating a calming atmosphere. It was nice here. No paparazzi, not too many people have recognised who I was, and if they have, they haven’t bothered to make a scene or ask for an autograph.
The busty waitress poured me another cup of coffee as I glanced at the the Coca-Cola clock dangling above the doorway to the kitchen.
3:18 pm
I shouldn’t be counting the minutes until I could leave, but I was. I should be back in England celebrating the holidays with my family. I should be there getting bladdered and totally wankered on Lou’s birthday.
But instead I was here, in the great alps of Utah at a skiing resort. Taylor’s idea of course. I’ve never really been one to ski, although I did it before with Louis and we had a complete blast even though we injured ourselves multiple times and failed miserably in the process. But if Taylor enjoys it, I might as well give it another shot.
I wasn’t exactly sure what was taking Taylor so long, and honestly I wasn’t all that worried. I was content sitting here waiting for her and pretending that I have a normal life for once.
As if on cue, Taylor emerged from the restrooms and sat down next to me. Her hand gripping my bicep as she smiled and leaned over to kiss me. We pulled apart and I immediately wiped my hand across my lips, getting the red lipstick Taylor always wore off before it could stain.
“You were in there for a while.” I smiled, taking a sip of my coffee.
She chuckled and replied, “Yeah, actually an idea for a song came to me. And I kind of just belted out whatever I had so far in there.”
“Ah,” I nodded. “The daily life of a songwriter.” I joked.
“I guess.” She giggled.
This was how all of our conversations were. Dull and full of short lingo.
How I got in this mess, I have no clue. I thought we were just hanging out as friends. She was cool, yeah. But too high maintenance and far too clingy for me. She was even seeing that Kennedy kid at the time, I think. But somewhere along the way we ended up together. She’s a great girl, don’t get me wrong. Kind, cute, good-hearted. But we didn’t really get on well. Not like Carolina and I did.
Shit, Carolina. I’d be damned if I told you I didn’t miss her every second of the day. I’d be cast down to hell if I told you I didn’t regret leaving her for Taylor. Well, leaving what we had for Taylor.
Carolina . She’s brilliant. It’s so hard to sit here and try to describe her to you. These adjectives just don’t do her justice. She was so special to me. Well, she still is.
I can’t exactly explain what we had, but it was incredible. We weren’t together, but I considered her mine. And mine only.
We were so connected. So in tune. She always knew what I was thinking and always knew how to make me feel better. Whether it be with one of her silly pillow fights, or one of her sensual kisses. I didn’t mind either way, because everything she did was so perfect.
We were best friends, amazing partners, so in love. I was so in love. So in love with the way she crinkled her nose when she laughed. Or the way she’d wear one of my old t-shirts around the house after we’d make love. Or how we’d walk through the park together at night and tell each other our secrets. Or how her eyes got that little twinkle every time I called her beautiful. Or how she would attempt to play the guitar, failing every time, but nonetheless it was adorable to me.
But I could never grasp ahold of her. She was so committed to me, and I was scared. Scared because what we had was so beautiful. Too beautiful. I couldn’t bear the idea of things going wrong, and having to lose her.
Then came the day I had to fly to New York for my MSG concert . One of the hardest things in my life happened that night. I had to tell her I didn’t love her, after she opened up and told me she loved me. But oh, did I love her. I loved her so much.
Then I just left. I told her I couldn’t do this, and I left. And that night, I met Taylor.
Not a day goes by where I don’t think about Carolina. What she might be doing. What she’s thinking. If she’s wearing one of my shirts or not. If she's thinking about me like I think of her ..
She made me feel like no other girl ever had.
I found myself still humming the song, this time, Zayn’s part.
“First touch, first kiss, first girl to make me feel like this.”
“What’s that, Harry?” Taylor asked, interrupting me as she ate her lunch.
“Nothing, just got a song stuck in my head, that’s all.” I quickly retorted.
Then it hit me. That’s it. The song. The girl.
I shouldn’t be here with Taylor. She’s not who I think about every time I sing a love song. It’s Carolina . It’s always been Carolina.
I suddenly scurried to my feet, slapping down a $20 bill on the counter to pay for Taylor’s meal.
“I’ve got to go.” I mumbled, zipping up my coat.
“Where?” Taylor questioned, still munching on her toast.
“Back to England. I’m sorry, Taylor. I can’t be with you anymore.” I quickly stated, as I jogged out the door. Not once looking back to see her eyebrows crease in confusion. I was done with Taylor Swift.
I took the next flight back to the UK. The whole ride I was trying to piece together what I wanted to say to Carolina. All these words, all these emotions that I wanted to express to her.
Before I even knew it, I was back home, wandering through the unbearably cold London night air, walking up Carolina’s street trying to get to her flat.
I stood before her door, too afraid to knock. I paced back and forth thru the long hallway, when I clumsily tripped and whacked myself into her door.
It wasn’t long before she opened the door upon hearing the noise. She looked tired, but her eyes still had that spark. Her hair was up in a messy bun on top of her head, giving me a glorious view of her face and all its wonderful features. She was wearing a big shirt over some leggings. Then I noticed, that it was my shirt. I couldn’t help but smile at the fact that she was still attached to something of mine.
“Why are you here, Harry?” She croaked in that delicate voice of hers. Her lips in a tight line as she awaited my response.
“I fucking love you.” I growled, my hands finding her face as I kissed her with all the might I could. Trying to portray everything I’ve been wanting to tell her into that kiss.
Her arms wrapped around my neck, and I felt home again.
“Why’d you leave me?” She whispered between kisses, her body clinging to mine.
“I was scared,” I panted. “But I’m not going anywhere this time.” I began kissing down her neck, marking her because she was the only one I wanted.
My ears perked up and she looked right back at me with those dazzling eyes. I smirked a bit as I lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom . The feelings were felt. The forgiveness was done. And she was mine .

Notes

For @Haroldthepussymaster_ lol fag