oh, anna [-hs]

canyon moon

a/n i'm back bitchesss

49.

HARRY'S POV

I'm staring at the ceiling.

In some hotel room in Italy. I don't really know where I am if I'm being honest. Jeff sent me the plane ticket and information. There was someone to pick me up at the airport. I wasn't paying attention.

I've been in Italy for a couple of days to photograph for the new Gucci campaign. Which is really exciting. I wasn't expecting them to want to work with me when I reached out, but here I am.

I've got about an hour until I have to leave for our second day of filming.

And all I can think about is the conversation Quinn and I had on Halloween.

I can see her changing. Growing in a way that makes me so proud. I noticed it first in LA in my bedroom. And then when she made me breakfast. I don't think she even realized what was happening, and it scared her. But it excited me.

I wonder if I played a Harry Nilsson song around her now, how she would react. I won't, that would be extremely pushy of me. I wouldn't betray her trust like that. But I do wonder. To be completely honest the curiosity is killing me.

Everything she said on Halloween was under the influence.

She's had grand, romantic, drunken confessions before. Before we were even hooking up, back when her hair was blue, Quinn called me drunk one night and told me she loved me.

And she most definitely didn't then. She doesn't even remember doing that. What if she doesn't remember doing this?

Or worse, what if she remembers, but regrets it?

I kind of disappeared right after Halloween. Jeff reminded me about this fashion spread and I jumped at the opportunity to run away and be alone with these thoughts. But she told me she understood and we could talk when I got back.

I feel a familiar, incessant urge and I sigh, sitting up to grab my guitar and then flopping back down onto the bed. The instrument rests against my chest. I wrap my arms around it and tuck my head into its neck.

"I'd walk through fire for you, just let me adore you," I hum to myself, and then jolt up, grabbing my pick off the end table to play a string of chords that enters my mind.

They sound so happy, so cheerful. Like a road trip. Like a big warm sunset. I feel the heat in my own chest. The yellow and red dawn is breaking over a horizon within my body. I grin and continue to play through them, proud of my discovery. And soon I'm humming along, which then turns to whistling.

Despite the happy go-lucky melody ringing out in this hotel room, my mind still reels. I can't believe she said those things the other night. I won't believe it until she says them to me sober.

What if she never does?

What if she was just trying to have sex? And she knew what to say to make me want to as well?

"You gotta see it to believe it." I blurt out.

My mind turns back to the sun. I push my notebook open at the end of my bed with my foot, and I flip through pages until I come to the scribbled lyrics I wrote down almost a year ago.

Wait for me in the sky. I know you're scared because hearts get broken.

But look how far we've come!

"Sky never looked so blue," I grin at the cheesiness that no one will understand but me. "So hard to leave it, that's what I always do." Always. It's always two weeks of bliss and then a month of not seeing each other.