Unscripted. (H.S.)

51

Penelope Atwoods

Harry and I went to the Met Gala. Chanel dressed us for the Met Gala. It's almost like every single childhood dream of mine has come true.

I changed into a shorter dress for the after party and Harry stayed in the same suit. It was at some nightclub they managed to rent out for the evening, with a free bar and incredible cocktail menu. Harry and I had a taxi waiting for us to take us there, and as we left, the cameras snapped a million pictures, which made me anxious. It's unsettling, all the shouting, camera flashes and big crowds, but Harry grabbed my hand and pushed his way through them all, pulling me behind him.

Some guy stood between us, put his camera in my face and I almost lost Harry, until he told the guy to move out of my way, and when he didn't, Harry gave him a little shove and pulled me closer to him. We walked through the crowd, Harry holding onto me for dear life until we got into the taxi.

Just when Harry dropped my hand to open the car door, somebody grabbed my forearm and it made my heart drip. I grabbed onto Harry and he immediately turned round, stood between me and that guy and looked at him angrily.

"Don't touch her." He said sternly, holding me behind him too scared to let go. Harry

"I was just-"

"No. Do not touch her." Hearty interrupted him, then turned to everyone else who stopped when they saw Harry react that way. "All of you, back off yeah?"

Harry turned to help me into the car, stood behind me so there was no opportunity for one of them to snap a picture of my dress shifting ever so slightly. It's all the small things, Harry holding my hand through the crowds and whenever I can feel the slightest amount of worry, telling that guy to not touch me, standing behind me as I got into the far, all those little things make me love him.

When we were in the car, he pulled me over to him and put an arm around my shoulders, kissed my forehead and he just smiled. It's been a surreal moment for us, I have a hard time doing things like this, because I'm not used to it all. Harry's been doing this longer than me, but tonight was our first Met gala. His first, my first, our first. We did this together.

When I lifted my head, Harry was sitting there staring ahead with watery eyes. I was confused, wandered what was wrong with him. He was smiling though, he was happy and it melted my heart.

"You're okay?" I asked, kissing his cheek.

"Peachy." Harry smiled. "So okay. I'm so good star girl, so fucking good. We're good, we're really good. Are you happy? Proud? Stomach feel like it's not there? Mine does."

"Yeah, it does." I nodded my head. "I'm happy, with you."

"My girl." Harry mumbled, kissing my forehead. "Someone cutting onions?"

I just chuckled and let Harry sit there and dwell in his own emotions. It's rare he lets that side of him out, but when he does, I've learned just to let him be at peace with that, without getting involved and pushing boundaries. It took me a lot of time to see the real him, and I'm glad to have that pleasure. Harry doesn't let many people see this version of himself, it's reserved for his close friends and family.

We stopped at the nightclub reserved for Chanel this evening and we headed in. Harry walked in holding my hand and we were greeted with champagne upon entry. It was nice being introduced to people as his girlfriend, Harry knows these people more than I do, and I like him telling people I'm his girlfriend with a smile on his face.

There was a guy called David that he worked with before on a different film, he was there with his sister, which was sweet. Harry and I stood speaking to them, his arm around my shoulders as he told them all about how we met. He was smiling like crazy, and I love it. I love his smile.