Make Me Beg [l.s - edited version]

five

Harry POV:

The photoshoot that I did yesterday for a new Gucci line went very well, albeit it took way longer than expected. They dressed me in a few funky, 60s-themed suits, and had me sat in the makeup chair for hours trying to tame my ruthlessly curly hair, to which I still can feel the slight residue of what was probably a whole bottle of extra-strength hair gel and styling products.

My favorite suit from yesterday was a dark navy suit with a deep red peaked lapel on the suit coat, which was embroidered with a series of blossoming roses and flowers. Beneath the suit coat was a simple green and white plaid shirt with all the buttons done up.

Oh, and they let me hold a chicken too, which I named Gareth. I'm not quite sure how the chicken was at all relevant or if it had anything to do with the clothes, though. Maybe next time they'll bring in a miniature pony or something, who knows.

Niall and I had hung out at his bar after I was done with the shoot and a meeting I had and stayed there late into the night. By the time I was a few drinks deep, I was drained of energy. I left the bar about a half-hour before Niall was closing and caught a train back to my house before crashing for the night.

Niall had offered to stay the night and sleep over at my place when I told him I was going to bed, in case anything happened like the last time he slept over. But I kindly rejected his offer, opting to go home alone tonight and let him take care of the bar without worrying over me.

I was too tired to imagine the possibilities, and if I had another episode then so be it. It wouldn't be the first time I've had one alone, and it surely won't be the last.

✰ ✰ ✰

This morning the skies are cloudy, causing me to frown as I drive to the cafe. The sun only chooses to shine on occasion in London, and it's rather dreadful when it doesn't. The city just turns into a grey and cloudy fog, a gloomy feeling constantly lingering in the sky in the absence of the sun.

Speaking of the cafe, I promised the nice hostess and waiter - Jen - that I'd be back to perform again. I really did like the little cafe the first time I went. It felt cozy and warm. It was full of love and soul. And the cute guy, of course.

So, with nothing better to do this morning, I decided to drive down there again with my guitar case in the backseat, and a new set of songs written down on my notepad.

The coffee house is warm, a nice contrast from the cool and breezy London air. And I smile when I see that there's no one else on stage, which means I can perform.

"Harry, it's nice to see you back!" Jen greets me kindly when she sees me.

"Good to be back, thank you," I give her a smile and she returns it promptly, "I have a feeling this cafe will become a second home if I keep coming back to perform at this rate,"