Flutter |h.s|

78

Grace

2am. It's nighttime in New York now, probably around 9pm. In exactly twelve hours I'm gonna be taking off into the sky, headed back there. My heart will be here though.

Thinking of going back to New York almost brings tears to my eyes. I hold onto Harry tighter as we sway to some music he has playing on his phone. We've been out in the yard, holding each other for hours probably. We haven't said much, just trying to remember the feeling of each other's embrace.

Every minute that passes breaks my heart even more and by the morning, I know that it'll just be a mess of broken fragments in my chest.

What do I even say to him? How am I going to open my mouth without completely breaking down into sobs. I've been choking down tears this entire time, but I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to keep them at bay.

My head rests against his chest and his cheek is resting on the top of my head. His hold is strong on me, his hands gently traveling up and down my back in an attempt to keep me calm. Every once in a while he'll hum along to a song that's playing, but for the most part, we've been silent.

Holly, Elias, and Gemma went right to bed when we got home, as expected, and Anne was already asleep. They all had a really great time and I'm glad. I want them all to have fun and not think about what's coming later. I'm worrying about that enough for everyone.

The song that's on ends and Harry sighs, moving his cheek off my head toward the music. I'm sure he's just waiting to know if the playlist is really over yet. It's been going for a while now and I'm surprised it hasn't ended.

These arms of mine, they are lonely
Lonely and feeling blue

The sound of that song starting takes my breath away. Harry's too.

Paris.

In that apartment, we slow danced to this song. He held me as I cried. It was the first time things changed for us. At least it was to me. Before then, I was able to tell myself we were just friends and that it was a silly crush I would get over once I knew him better. Only, it didn't go away, it got worse.

I remember feeling his hand in mine for the first time, when he brought me to my room in that apartment and showed me the view. I remember him holding me after I screamed my head off on the roof. I remember him singing Elvis at the end of the night before I went to sleep after our party, and the sad tone of his voice. I remember holding his hand as we ran through Versailles, and him opening up to me for the first time in the garden. I remember leaning against him as I looked out at the view from the top of the Eiffel Tower. The lunch we shared by ourselves, after which he bought me flowers. I remember how handsome he looked in his suit on our way to dinner and stealing glances at him over the table.

And I remember him holding me that night, while we swayed gently along to this song.

There have been so many big moments shared between us, but none of those compare to the little ones. The small gestures of love. The French and Italian phrases, the stolen glances, the outstretched hands. Nothing in the world could ever come close to making me feel the way those do.

I love him. Every single little thing about him, I love. And it scares me to death. I've never loved like this before and I'm terrified I'm going to screw it all up in one fell swoop. But at the same time, I know deep down that nothing I could do will make Harry hate me. For some reason that boy thinks that I'm this angel sent straight from the heavens.

Now here we are, swaying gently to These Arms of Mine by Otis Redding, both thinking back to every little moment that has led us up to this day. This moment in his backyard at 2 in the morning.