Muse [h.s.]

33. look up at the moon

🎵Landslide — Fleetwood Mac

Ella's POV

"Come on," Harry says softly, his hold on my hand gentle as he leads me out of the hotel lobby.

He had whisked me away from the suite, despite Brad, Lydia, and Jax calling after him, but I didn't care — I needed the fresh air, I needed to get out of that stuffy room, I needed to breathe. I felt like I was being suffocated.

This fresh air feels amazing as I deeply inhale, the oxygen flowing through my lungs. It's drizzling, but barely so that the rain is only a light mist, and the cool of it feels heavenly against my skin; a contrast to the heat of the summer.

I'm aware of a few people outside of the hotel who are gawking at Harry, but it surprises me that he doesn't even seem to care or pay any mind to them — this is the first that we've ever been noticed together.

His gentle hold is still on my hand, his soft, moss-colored eyes trained only on me. I hear a faint click of someone's camera, and Harry suddenly pulls me away from the front of the hotel, towards the parking lot.

"Come on, let's get out of here," he speaks softly, turning to look at me quickly, concern laced in his gaze.

A loose curl hangs in front of his eyes as we enter the parking lot, his head turning from left to right as he scans the lot.

"Where are we going?" I croak out, looking up at him. Recognition flashes in Harry's eyes before he begins to pull me towards a black car, one that I know all too well — Tom's car.

When we get to the car, Harry raises his fist, his knuckles knocking against the window. It rolls down, revealing Tom sat in the driver's seat; it's clear that Harry's taken him off guard, as his eyes are widened in surprise and he slightly jumps.

"Mr. Styles! What are you doing here?" Tom asks, narrowing his brows.

Harry laughs, pointing his finger at Tom. "It's Harry. Enough calling me Mr. Styles, we're friends, Tom," he corrects, before he continues, "and I should be asking you that!"

"I lost these damn keys somewhere in here earlier..." Tom trails off, reaching down between the seat, his long arm fishing in the small space.

The sight of this almost makes me smile, as Tom dons a comical expression until he finally pulls out the keys from between the seats. His expression turns victorious as he grins at Harry.

"Got 'em!"

Tom pulls the driver's side open, shutting the door before he walks around the hood to approach us. His kind eyes immediately settle on me, and before I know it, he engulfs me in his arms, holding me gently.

"It's so good to see you, Ella," he says once he pulls away, holding me at arm's length. He gives me a warm smile. "Has it really only been a week since I've seen you in Miami?"

"It feels like that was ages ago, doesn't it?" I say as I laugh quietly. "Thank you Tom, for coming all the way out to France, you didn't have to—"

"Don't be silly, Ella," Tom says as he cuts me off, shaking his head at me. "We're friends, remember? Besides, wherever Harry goes, I go, anyways. It comes with the job."

He shoots Harry a look but Harry only beams at him with his dimpled smile, probably feeling pride at the fact that Tom hasn't called him 'Mr. Styles.' I think this is the first that he's actually called him Harry.

Tom grins back at Harry before he speaks again, "Do you two need a ride somewhere?"

Harry shakes his head, but he holds out his hand. "Pass me the keys, Tom, I'll be doing the driving tonight. You go get your rest."