Dinner was quiet.
You sat next to each other, practically silent between bites. Both of you wanted to talk about it - you wanted to beg him, irrationally, to stay, and Harry wanted to apologize. Harry wanted to apologize, wanted to tell you he loves you and needs you and would never leave your side if he could.
But at the same time, neither of you wanted to think about it. Harry didn't want to think about the car that would come in the morning, about the plane or the landing or being apart from you. You didn't want to think about the big empty house, about the one cup of coffee you'd pour in the morning, about the empty bed you'd curl up in at night.
You wanted to live, just for a second, in that fantasy that tomorrow wouldn't come. That tonight would last forever, that you'd wake up tomorrow to realize time had frozen and it wasn't tomorrow at all.
Weirdly, though, you hated this, too. You hated the silence. It was heavy. Still. Loud.
It was when you were cleaning up that he broke the ice. Your back was to him, cleaning dishes, when you heard him give a wry laugh and you felt his arms around your waist. "This is ridiculous," he mumbled into your shoulder.
You feigned ignorance. "What is?" you asked, bumping your shoulder against him just a bit and turning slightly to kiss his nose. He looked up at you, pouting a bit. "You're so quiet," he murmured, and you sighed, drying your hands before turning around and resting your hands on his chest.
"It's weird," you said, looking at your hands for a second before quirking a smile and looking up at him. "We've never been apart this long." Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said softly. He held your gaze for a second, letting the silence draw out, settle back in, before breaking it again.
"You haven't asked me to stay," he whispered.
Your smile faded, and you bit your lip, hesitating as you picked at a nonexistent piece of lint on the sleeve of his t-shirt. "No," you finally decided. You cleared your throat, shaking your head. "No," you said again, "I haven't. Because I don't want you to."
"What," Harry began, a teasing lilt to his voice as he leaned into you and spoke softly into your ear, "should I leave early?" You giggled, shaking your head again. "Of course not," you murmured. "Of course not. But you'd hate staying."
He sighed. "I know."
"You're much too narcissistic to stay here, with just me as your audience..."
"This is true," Harry agreed with a shrug.
You groaned, laughing as you slipped out of his hold and gently pulled him into the living room. "Let's dance," you suggested, spinning yourself around and into his arms. "Dance, hm?" Harry asked, kissing you instead. "Let's skip the foreplay, darling."
"You're impossible," you giggled, pulling away and thumbing through his record collection. "C'mon, we need something... something..." You faded off, concentrating, and Harry appeared behind you, his arms winding around your waist again as he swayed to his own melody.
"Ah-ha!" you exclaimed triumphantly, holding up a record.
"Sinatra and Company," Harry read, and then looked at you.
"Leaving on a Jet Plane," you clarified.
Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. "How perfect."
You set the disk on the record player and gently set the needle down, then spun around and held your hand out to Harry. "Dance with me, Styles," you said, and you watched him smile despite himself as he let you pull him into the center of the room.
As the music began and you led him around in a clumsy waltz, you sang. "All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go..." Harry bit his lip, hiding his grin with an eye roll, and shook his head as you looked at him expectantly.
"I'm standing here, outside your door," you sang for him, "I hate to wake you up to say goodbye..." When you looked up at him, pleading with your eyes, Harry took his arm off your waist for a moment to mime zipping and locking his lips.
You pouted and spun around, being dramatic enough for the both of you. "So kiss me, and smile for me... tell me that you'll wait for me..." You spun into his arms, throwing your arms over his shoulders. "... hold me like you'll never let me goooo..."
You poked him as the music swelled, and he laughed, finally caving as he spun you around and started to sing. "'Cause I'm leavin', on a jet plane - don't know when I'll be back again... Oh, babe" - he held you close, feathering kisses on your cheek and down your jaw - "I hate to go...
"There's so many times... I've let you down... So many times I've played around... I tell you now, they don't mean a thing..." His voice was quieter now, more serious. He pushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear and smiled softly. "Every place I go, I'll think of you, every song I sing, I'll sing for you..."
Your breath caught as you remembered the next lyric, and you almost expected him to kiss you, ducking out of it, but his voice went even softer, even more serious - "... and when I come back, I'll bring your wedding ring..."
He kissed you then, smiling against your lips. "I love you," he whispered.
You sighed happily as you smiled back, content at last. "Love you too."
