Sage

67

Ellie.

Harry loves the beach, I've learned.

I sit in the sand, watching as his arm lazily tosses a shell into the vast darkness that is the ocean. I watch as it skips across the water before disappearing from my sight. Harry nods approvingly at the distance of the skip before reaching for another shell.

I slide my bare feet against the grainy sand, being focused on him while he is focused on the water.

He hums to himself tipsily, bending over to sift through the sand for some more shells to toss. It'd been his way of keeping active, the wine making it physically impossible for him to sit still.

It was his idea to come here and sober up after all the wine he'd consumed during our dinner. He swore he was okay enough to drive before he spent ten minutes looking for his car keys, only to realize he was holding them. I tried not to overthink the fact that he drank so much and didn't realize it. I knew it was work, or more specifically, today's work. The few times I hinted at asking him about it, he was smooth in switching the subject, so I decided to drop it. Obviously, he wanted an escape from it, and I wasn't going to pressure him, even if I was itching to know what happened. He often left me in the dark about his work life and I didn't realize it until today.

I told myself he wasn't hiding anything. He was just...stressed.

Distracting myself from the thoughts, I wriggle my toes and focus on the feeling of the sand between the skin.

The surface of the vast body of water looked as though it was coated with millions of stars, sprinkled on the waves and kissing the sand while reflecting the glow of the moon. It was a beautiful sight accompanying the swish of the waves and the distant hum of Harry's voice. I recognize the song from a sheet of music I once found in his studio, but I can't recall the name, only bits and pieces of the chorus.

We're close enough to the ocean that the water teases my toes with a loud rush ever so often before drifting back into the sea. Harry's barefoot, his shoes sitting next to me as he's ankle-deep in the water. His dress shirt is rolled to his elbows, showing off the swirls of tattoo ink on his arms, and his hair is pulled up into a small ponytail. I'm honestly just happy to see him content. He deserves it.

I can't help but quirk a small smile as he sways back and forth at the song he hums, actually muttering some of the lyrics out loud.

"I was thinking about la daaa la..."

He brings me so much warmth and balance by just being here. I think he underestimates his place in my life. I'm vulnerable when it comes to him, and I'm unapologetic about it. While I wished he'd talk to me about the things that bother him more, I know to respect his space and allow him to come to me. Watching him hum to himself while letting the waves wash away his troubles was more than okay with me.

My gaze shifts over my shoulder, where the city is quiet and minute from our distance. I recalled when my life was here for the short amount of time. Everything felt rushed. Simple tasks like grocery shopping weren't normal, but having a personal chef was. Having a personal maid was. I try to think if I'd ever be able to adjust to that life. It was such a stark contrast from the small town I'd grown up in where traffic was a myth of the larger cities.
I lean back on one palm to hold myself up, my other hand mindlessly playing in the sand. When I catch of glimpse of Harry once more, my head sighs all over again.

I fish my phone out of my bag to take a picture of him, feeling my a brief wave of relief at the lack of text messages. I know Harry is de-stressing so I refuse to bring up Danny's messages to him. He's finally relaxed for the first time since earlier and I don't want to ruin that.