"Excuse me.." a british accent greeted me. I looked up to be met with the most vibrant green eyes. "I think you're in my seat."
Oakland, an 18 year old girl from a small town in South Carolina, is going on vacation with her family to Jamaica. coinc...
It rang through the house, but was slightly muffled due to the bedroom door being shut. I had my right ear pressed to the door, and from the shred of the guitar and drums playing, I was wide awake now.
I could distinctly pick out Harry's voice, hearing the girls in his band hum out and file in with background tunes to help illuminate the song. It all sounded like a true song that I would listen to, and I couldn't seem to bring myself to stop listening.
In my left hand, I clutched the throw blanket, holding it around me as I listened to what I have come to the conclusion is one of Harry's songs he has written for the album. I should've probably just tried to go back to sleep, but his voice was almost intoxicating, a drug if you will.
I listened to the lyrics he sang, feeling the butterflies crawl from my stomach up into my heart as he sang the word Angel. This whole trip, he has called me that, and knowing that there is a chance of me being referred to in his lyrics made me feel a different type of special.
My curiosity got the best of me, and before I knew it, I was peeling the door open, clarifying the words Harry sang. Ever so slightly, I tiptoed out of the doorway, trying to avoid any squeaky floorboards, even though I am pretty positive that they wouldn't hear me over the music.
I carried myself halfway down the steps as quietly as I could. I stopped where the wall cut off, and the railing led the rest of the way. I peered around the corner, smiling at the sight I saw.
Harry standing on the coffee table, wearing the same thing he was wearing earlier this evening. The Versace shirt with the light washed wide legged jeans that I am guessing that he threw on while I was asleep. He had his eyes shut, and his hands in the air as he sang his fully finished song.
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"I must admit I thought I'd like to make her mine,
As I went about my business through the warning signs,"
Warning signs? Did I give him any warning signs for him to flee? God I sure hope not. But he could one hundred percent be referring to the short period where I cut him off, being too afraid to have him in my life since I was sent into a spiral from the haunting nightmare a little ways back.
My eyes fixated on the view in front of me, and I so desperately wish that I had my camera with me, because I want this memory framed forever. Seeing Harry letting go, and completely and utterly melting into his music is something that you could only see with your eyes. No amount of explanation could ever do the moment justice.
