Buttercup [H.S]

Chapter Thirty Three

Harry

I've been waiting to get off this stage the moment I stepped on to it.

I'd always gotten nervous before a show, felt that twisting in my gut and beat of my heart in my ears, the tingle in my fingers and toes that only came with the thrill of performing.

And it wasn't unusual for me to search the crowd for faces I recognised. My friends, maybe sometimes my mum or my sister. People cheering me on.

I'd searched for Riley's face in the audience for a long time, I think. Years, even. When I was seventeen, I'd look out in hopes that maybe she would turn up after one of the many invites I extended to her, only to feel disappointed each time when I never found her.

And then when school was over, and I didn't know where she was, I thought maybe, just maybe, she'd stumble into a pub or beer garden that we were playing in by accident and she'd just be there, watching.

That time she really had turned up, with Kyle behind her, I'd felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't feel happy that she was there, because I was too busy trying to be angry at her. It clouded my vision, stopped me from bathing in the elation that she'd finally made it to one of my shows.

Then, tonight, when I'd hung my guitar around my neck, and tried to blow away my nerves before I stepped up to the microphone, for once I hadn't even been looking for her.

I hadn't seen her at all, for three months now, despite us sharing the same friend group.

She never met Lucy from work to stroll down the canal. She never turned up to Sarah and Mitch's house if she knew I'd be there. I hadn't even passed her in the street, until the other night.

I'd lied to her when I said I couldn't find a parking space on Niall and Louis' street. I hadn't even looked for one. Instead, I'd parked at the end of hers, in a pathetic hope that I'd get a glance at her. But then I got more than that, she'd literally walked right into my path.

And Jesus, she looked so good.

Her hair was lighter and kind of frizzy from working in the kitchen with Niall, and her face was tired and clear of make up but she'd never looked so happy. Content. Whole.

I'd tried not to let my eyes rake down her hips, her legs, but it was hard not to admire the way her body had changed as well. Stronger, filled with curves that had never been there before.

It was incredibly difficult, not to catch the plumpness of her lips and remember that night we had together; but even when I did think about that night, and the morning that followed, it had mostly just filled me with sadness and regret.

Not for holding her and kissing her and watching her come undone around me, but because it should never have happened the way it did. Through pure selfishness. We took from each other, the last thing we had left, because there was nothing else to take after that.

So when, tonight, I introduced myself and the band, and I looked out into the sea of faces, I found hers straight away.

Stood at the back, Krish and Lucy and the others from the market at her side, and I couldn't breathe.

I stood frozen, my ears ringing, until I realised that despite how it felt, she wasn't the only person in the room and I had a show to play.

I played through a haze, on autopilot, beads of sweat rolling down my spine as I sung and tried to pretend that I wasn't singing only to her.

Not all of the songs we'd written as a band were about her, because that would have been kind of obsessive and weird, but a lot of them were.

About the girl she was at school. The girl she was when she left and my heart was broken and I told myself I never wanted to see her again. It was a lie. Always a lie.