golden | A HARRY STYLES NOVEL

"Your Flowers Just Died"

Chapter 27.

      He stood up quickly, very obviously preventing himself from spilling the words on the tip of his tongue.

...

Celadon & Gold by Maggie Rogers
     My hand started to cramp up. One the best worst feelings in the world. I shook my hand to loosen my wrist. The verses began as little promptings, ideas, things I'd word-vomit onto a page. But now they were starting to take a shape, to run smoothly into filling a mold my mind created... they created a feeling now. One that could altogether maybe make sense to someone enough to change them in some way. That was really satisfying to me.

     Once I started thinking about it too much, I ruined it. Publishers... editing... big companies... competition... I might as well give a public speech about the knowledge I gained whilst studying law on pluto.

    I haven't been recently writing as much as I should be. It takes up so much of my brain power now... now that I think more about what I write. Things normally just come to me. It shouldn't be this hard.

     I don't think it'd be all too difficult for my brain to function if it weren't so busy. Harry's played me 9 of 12 songs he says are on the record, he seems to be decently happy with them, but I know he's secretly mad at himself for not doing better. He overworked himself often, if it wasn't perfect in every aspect, he wouldn't let it go until it was. But... the emotion got lost in that... I hoped it was just me and that it wasn't actually that obvious that he wasn't proud of his work.

.

     "Eh, it's been okay." I mumbled into the phone I held onto with my shoulder.

     "Yeah? You haven't talked excitedly about your writing since the letters." He sounded sincere. It hurt.

     "Letters... right. Those were good. But I can't send them."

     "Why not. It sounded like they were really meaningful." I heard slight talking in the background behind his voice.

     "Exactly." I rummaged through my fridge for anything to eat. "I need to go to the market later, do you want to come?"

     "Y-" Before he could answer, the thought came back to me. "The letters would change too much if I gave them out. It's too much of me, if someone knew that it'd be... I'm sorry, were you going to say something, I cut you off. I'm sorry."

     "What about me?"

     "Well duh, I'm asking you to go with me." I heard a tiny little "Uhm". "Oh you mean... okay yeah. You're just... different to me. Than regular humans."

     "Quite the compliment, you sure you're a poet?"

     "Pfft," I laughed it off, "I never once said I was. Anyways golden boy, when are we to go to the market."

     "...What?"

     I laughed again. "You can go to the market with me right?"

     "Yeah, I can. I wanna know where you got that nickname from." He was very up front about something I hardly even noticed. "Nickname? Golden boy...?"

      He paused for a moment. "Hello...?" I asked. "I won't say it... I won't. But... you're incredible. Literally everything to me. Bye!" He hung up so quickly after that, I would think out of excitement...

     I dropped my phone onto the counter. I had a shift in an hour. Nothing else to do until then and even after it was over. I could've written, but I couldn't find the need to write like I used to. I made my way over to the couch and picked up the guitar from the stand. It hadn't been used since Harry played it last. I didn't know anything completely, but I picked up easily. E... this shape... slide this shape up two frets... It was Two Ghosts. This song always surprised me. I only knew the three chords. So I ended up putting it back on the stand and going to Anna's early.