My Beloved ~ H.S.

Chapter Four: The Favor

After we've finished the entire set and I feel as comfortable as I probably will feel with my performance, I realize that my momentary fascination with Harry was probably just that, a momentary fascination. Who wouldn't be fascinated being thrown into a world they've only ever seen through pictures or video? He's a very talented entertainer after all and that is basically his job, to fascinate people, or else he wouldn't have sold out shows all over the country. It probably also has something to do with the fact that I have not had any male companionship for a very long time, although it's been entirely voluntary, but that's another thought for another time. The band members disperse, unplugging their instruments and wrapping up cords and such, while Harry wraps his mic cord up into a neat little ball, so I take the opportunity to gather up my papers and walk over to him.

"So, how do you think it went?" I ask, needing just a bit of reassurance about my performance. He turns his face to mine and his eyes light as he looks down at me.

"It was brilliant. You were brilliant", he confirms and his praise makes me feel warm.

"Ok good. This is all so new to me. I just don't want to screw it up."

"I have every confidence you will not screw it up Kathryn", he says dead serious and I swallow down a lump that has suddenly formed in my throat.

"It's not like anyone will be watching me anyway", I add half-heartedly, remembering the fans last night and how they watched his every movement on stage, much Iike I did moments ago.

"Ha!" Is all he replies with and I have to wonder if he even knows his effect on people. He finishes wrapping the cord and sets it down, then removes the clip from his hair and runs his hands through it. "Well, I'm sure you'd like to get home so please be back here tomorrow for the 5 pm sound check, then we go on at 8:00. Sound good?"

"Sounds great!" I exclaim a little too excitedly. "Thank you Harry, for this opportunity. I'm still really not sure why you picked me, but I'm glad you did. I think this will be so much fun." He closes the short distance between us, grasping both my hands in his and the butterflies are back.

"No, thank YOU Kathryn. You have no idea how much this helps us out. I was so stressed when I found out about Trish and now...well now I'm not", he says with a grin and the butterflies increase. I force myself to hold his steely gaze as I reply.

"You're welcome, glad I could help", I all but whisper. He gives my hands a gentle squeeze then releases them, and I'm surprised by the emptiness I feel at their absence.

"Shall I walk you out?" He asks, indicating the room we first met in.

"Sure, but only because I'm sure I'll get lost if you don't", I say jokingly but not really. Plus I want to extend my time with him for just a few more minutes although I'm not sure why. Harry Styles is captivating if nothing else. We walk side by side through the cavernous room, then me in front of him on the stairs, then side by side again as we maneuver through the large empty arena. We walk mostly in silence, except to comment on the unbearably hot summer we're having, even for Texas, which reminds me once we reach the main door that I'm still wearing his sweatshirt. "Oh I almost forgot. Your sweatshirt..." I tug at the hem to pull it over it my head but he stops me, holding out his hand.

"Why don't you keep it until the end of the run? Just in case you need it again."

Not wanting to mention that I have sweatshirts at home and sounding rude, I let go of the hem and simply say, "Ok, thanks." Then feeling extremely awkward not knowing how to end this departure, I stick out my hand to him. "I'll see you tomorrow then?" Harry looks down at my hand and smirks, then shocks the hell out of me as he pulls me into a hug. My body stiffens at the intimacy at first, but then quickly melts into his, molding perfectly into his lean frame. It only lasts a few seconds but it's enough to make me realize I have definitely missed physical contact, especially with the masculine variety. He pulls away far too quickly and I am left to stare stupidly up at him.