"So…Harry, you've been seen out with Taylor Swift," The interviewer begins the question that has been asked ten-thousand too many times "…Anything going on there?" The interviewer shoved the microphone in Harry’s direction, anxious for an answer.
I watch tentatively as Harry takes a deep breath, preparing to recite the long, tedious speech management had taught him the day before the first public outing, or as I like to call it; the incident.
"Yeah, well, uh, you see," My boyfriend was waiting as long as possible; I know how much he hates saying this, confusing the fans. "Yeah we’re, uh, friends and we’ve, uh, been out a couple times."
The interviewer, who I never bothered to catch the name of, takes this the wrong way. Only increasing my anger, honestly I wish I were anywhere else.
"Out on dates?" The idiot asks, it's not that I'm mean on purpose, just some people in the media are asking for it.
"Errm. Um." Harry licks his lips, he was struggling with the inquiry; management never assumed interviewers would ask past the first question.
"Of course not, you think he'd cheat on me?" The words come out before I could stop them. The shock on everyone’s face makes it apparent that I did indeed say the words out loud. I clap my hand over my mouth, making me look even more guilty, even management won' be able to cover this up.
Harry, who of course is on the other side of the couch, and I lock eyes. Before I knew what was happening we were both standing and walking towards each other, our lips locked on camera, live. We all, even the other boys, felt a relief we hadn't felt in months.
The interviewer had been rendered speechless since my outburst; she couldn't keep her jaw shut along with the entire crowd. The room was eerily silent.
"I KNEW IT WAS REAL." One girl cried out with joy. The whole room was then filled with the cheers of Larry shippers.
No words were needed between us, our linked hands said enough, we weren't leaving the others side. Ever again.
