The Way I Feel Inside | h.s.

40

Bee's POV:

I gripped the narrow armrests on either side of me and pinched my eyes shut, trying to ignore the jumping in my stomach when the wheels hit the pavement. Music played loudly through my headphones, 'Do It Again' by Steely Dan at full volume to drown out the overwhelming noise of the plane slowing down.

No matter how many times I fly, it's always the same. I love taking off, I hate landing.

It's been almost two weeks since The Fever Dream - the name I've assigned to the weekend with Harry. Fortunately it wasn't overwhelming for too long, especially since I wasn't on social media. I basically only spoke with Val, my mom, and clients and coworkers. Life felt normal.

I was running a lot more - more frequently and longer distances. I ran after work most days, running until the point of exhaustion or until the sun set, whichever happened first. Then I'd get home and stretch, take a long hot shower, smoke half a joint, and make myself a huge dinner. I wanted to be exhausted by the end of every day.

Because at the end of the day, lying in bed staring at my fan spinning on the ceiling, I thought of Harry. As long as I tired myself out enough throughout the day, I'd think of him a little bit less as my body ultimately demanded rest. I didn't typically smoke weed this regularly because it impacted my breathing on my runs, but as long as I smoked at least a small amount, my usual vivid dreams were nonexistent. I didn't want to dream. I didn't want to see him.

This strategy worked for me most nights the past couple of weeks. It's not my first time leaving someone behind. It's almost like a sort of auto-pilot way of thinking: disassociate from any of the feelings that made my heart beat louder, or my throat burn, or my stomach knot.

But just a couple of times, while lying in bed, my eyes closed and my thoughts slipped into a memory of that weekend. I could almost feel the cold air on my cheeks and my eyes stung involuntarily as I recalled the emotions between him and I.

"You're falling, Bee," he whispered, and his choice of words made me hold my breath for a moment. He brought his face closer to mine, eyes boring into mine, with a sense of knowing comfort that I've never felt before. "You're falling," he repeated, "and trust me when I tell you that you need people in your life who will catch you before you've fallen too far."

Funny enough, I wasn't haunted by the hot sex or the spectacle of spending the weekend with an A-list celebrity. I was able to tune all of that out, for now. Instead I was haunted by this interaction with this human - a stranger  - who made me feel not only seen, but as if he wrote my story himself.

I'd wondered how that could be, and that tangent of thinking would derail my efforts for a period of time. So those couple of nights, I went to sleep with his perfect face at the front of my mind, his glassy eyes looking into mine on the chilly balcony of that flowery hotel suite.

I stayed seated as I opened my eyes and watched passengers gather their belongings, opening the overhead compartments to grab their luggage, a few people rushing down the aisle which made me roll my eyes in annoyance. It's not that hard to wait your turn.

After we finally de-planed I navigated through the familiar scenery of the San Jose airport, Steely Dan still playing through my ears while I observed my surroundings quietly. I've always loved the peace that comes with traveling alone.

I had planned to drive down from Seattle with some friends I knew from past Campouts, but about a week ago I forfeited my seat and decided to fly down and rent a car. I'd meet up with them there. I was looking forward to the two and a half hour drive on my own.

Dirtybird Campout was coming at a perfect time. I didn't know what this weekend had in store - I never truly did when it came to Dirtybird Campout - but I knew that the change of environment would be good for me.

I stepped out into the warm California air, reflexively squinting my eyes a bit under the sun. I adjusted my backpack straps before continuing along to the car rental area, wheeling my suitcase behind me.

The person who rented me the car was helpful and bubbly, so I decided to purchase the full insurance package because I knew she'd get a commission from it. She set me up with a 2020 black Ford Fusion and I was on my way in no time with my suitcase in the trunk and my backpack beside me in the passenger seat.

I sat idling for a moment, holding my phone in front of me at the steering wheel, trying to decide what to play to start my drive. I hovered over my Liked Songs for a moment, ready to put them on shuffle so I could have my usual unpredictable mix of sounds.

"Okay..." I mumbled to myself as I opened the search bar on the music app and started typing into it. "I'll just listen to both of his albums..." I paused and looked at myself in the rearview mirror, catching my eyes and noting how bright they looked against the freckles on my nose in the sunlight. I stared at myself for a moment then raised an eyebrow. "Once. I'll listen to them each... once." I nodded once, definitively, to myself in the mirror before typing the rest of his name in.

Why should it matter anyway? I'd be listening to house music all damn weekend, so it's not like I could listen to it all the way there. I'd be sick of it before I even arrived. And I loved Harry's music before I spent any time with him. It wasn't weird. Right?

The guitar and keys of the first song started playing and I took a deep breath and put the car into drive, heading out toward the main road.

"Meet me in the hallway..."

I immediately scoffed at myself as I felt my stomach turn and my cheeks grow hot at the first sounds of his voice since I'd listened to his voice note almost two weeks ago. And of course this song made it even worse, all whiney and sad and sexy.

I grumbled under my breath, "You fucker," shaking my head as I pulled onto the highway.

But then, of course, I sang. Alone in the car, as loud as I could, practically screaming and probably way off-pitch. I opened the windows to feel a bit of the breeze on me and relaxed my arm down out the window so my fingertips could dance in the wind. 

"Just let me know, I'll be at the door, at the door
Hoping you'll come around"

I stayed in the right lane and cruised, not really feeling at all rushed to be at my destination.

A/N:

I did not mean to take so long between chapters :( This keeps happening and I'm sorry. I got super bummed out after Love On Tour (US) ended and my mental health wasn't great but it made me all the more thankful for this story because it's a way to keep myself accountable for something when I feel like doing nothing. Plus there's literally nothing to be sad about because Harry is everywhere lol. To any readers who are in Europe, I AM CROSSING MY FINGERS for you to get a tour date announcement soon! It's about damn time - y'all have been waiting entirely too long.

This story IS coming to a close, I'm not exactly sure how many more chapters are left since I'm still basically flying by the seat of my pants, but just know that it will just be a few more. Maybe 5 or less.

And thennnnnn onto the next one! I'm really excited to do more thangs. I honestly kinda want to go Dark Harry for the next story but we shall see. All the ideas I'm most excited about have Harry being a twisted mf though, not sure if the folks who read this version of dreamboy Harry would be interested in a Psychotic Harry lol.

Alright I'm just rambling on and on now so I'll finish up. I hope whoever sees this drinks water and eats a vegetable today. <3 You're loved. Thank you for reading!