The Way I Feel Inside | h.s.

13

Harry's POV

"Can the band still wear the outfits we had planned? I don't think we have anything that matches all this," Mitch said from my hotel bed as I took in my appearance through the mirror.

I smiled at him through my reflection, "Just wear all black." I turned slightly to either side to make sure one more time that the suit fit from all angles. Once satisfied, I shrugged off the jacket to start changing back into casual clothes. I'd put the suit back on in a few hours, just before showtime. I hated wearing the nice stuff for too long before shows because I get nervous I'll spill something on it or fucking sweat through it before I even get to performing.

I glanced up at Mitch as I started unbuttoning my dress shirt. He was staring at me quizzically. I could tell he wanted to ask me about the last-minute costume change, and probably about my night, but he wouldn't.

I smirked at him as I pulled the dress shirt off my body and put it on its hanger, then did the same with the jacket. I noticed the slight crinkle in his brows had become more prominent. He was actually going to break. Ha.

"Something wrong?" I asked him innocently. He pursed his lips and fought a smile as he realized I was fucking with him.

"You're a dick, H." He broke eye contact and sat up straighter on the bed, leaning against the headboard and resting with his legs out, crossed at the ankles.

I chuckled as I unbuttoned my dress pants, sliding them down my legs before folding them and placing them on their hanger. "Well that's rude, Mitchell," I raised my brows to feign a stern response, and felt my cheeks heat a bit when I heard a light giggle from the bed.

Mitch doesn't always react to things too easily, and I love that I've become quite good at making him smile or laugh. He's so quiet and shy, until he's comfortable, and then he's actually one of the wildest people I know. And I've spent my fair share of time with some wild people.

"Okay just tell me one thing," he blurted from the bed. I hung up my suit in the closet and walked back to the bed to pull on some grey joggers.

I smiled in victory knowing Mitch gave into his curiosity. "Okay, deal." I tied the joggers at the waist and picked up my black hoodie to pull on over my t-shirt. Then I collapsed forward onto the bed, laying on my belly beside Mitch. My shoulder brushed the side of his jeans-covered thigh. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked up at him expectantly.

He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head down at me, making me grin. He was cute when he pried. It doesn't happen often because he usually waits for me to bring it up, but every once in awhile his curiosity gets the better of him.

"Was the person someone I know? Sarah and I were racking our brains at breakfast this morning trying to think of who you know in Seattle and we could not think of anyone."

I dropped my head down for a moment and breathed out a light laugh. I looked back up to him with a smile. I was a little surprised and flattered that they cared enough to have a discussion about it. "A bit snoopy, yeah?"

He shook his head with a smile. "Oh please. You always say good night to us at or before bedtime when we're on tour. Every show, without fail, ever since you deemed us worthy of staying in the same hotel as you," he winked and tucked his lips into his mouth.

"Hey," I whined, feeling guilty that my band stayed in less extravagant hotels for the first year or so of working together. "Not fair, we already had a whole conversation about that. You're not allowed to guilt trip me for personal information."

He shrugged and smiled down at me. "Sorry. But answer the question. Do we know them?"

"Nope, you don't know her." I tugged at my bottom lip between my index and middle finger. "But you'll meet her tonight," I smiled with an eyebrow raise.