The Hotel - H.S.

Chapter 12

Harry's POV

I've kissed a lot of girls. More than my fair share. Part of growing up in a boyband style group like I did, with hormones raging and chicks all around at all times....Let's just say that I have kissed a lot of girls. But I have never kissed a girl like that. Zoey was dominant and sweet and soft and sure and delicious. I have kissed a lot of girls but I have never felt it in my toes. And I don't think it was related to the mystery pill I took. 

As I sat here strumming this guitar aimlessly while Zoey laid on top of the piano and clicked her nails on the varnish along with my strumming (which was shockingly complimentary to my listless playing) I was struggling to pull it together. There has been a very serious draw to her since I first saw her. There is a very obvious chemistry. But I couldn't help but think about the end game. She lives in Northern California and I am rarely there. It would be a terrible idea to pursue something with her, but how do I ignore this?

The answer is that I don't. I don't ignore it, or try to define it, or try to understand it. I need to take a page from her book and try to just enjoy it. I smiled and played with a little more purpose, trying to live in the moment. Before I even realized what I was playing, I recognized "Everlong" coming out of the guitar I was holding. 

Zoey gasped and sat up. "Fuck YES Haz. Excellent choice!" As the song moved into the beginning of lyrics she sat up straighter and opened her mouth to sing. I just watched, dumbstruck as her soft, beautiful crooning filled the room. She had a lot of skill and a beautiful voice. I wish I was recording us. 

(Let's pretend this is Harry's playing and Zoey's singing. This artist is amazing!I intend to borrow a few of her covers for this story but all credit goes to Alicia Widar)

Her long, graceful neck shifted back and forth as her body swayed and her voice wrapped around my heart. The song ended and she opened her eyes, which had remained closed during the whole song. I knew I was beaming at her but I didn't care. "Fucking hell, Kermit, you can sing." I laughed.

"Well thank you, I'm no international pop sensation but I've been really into music my whole life. It's been a huge outlet for me through the hard shit. Like therapy, in a way." She smiled sheepishly at me, her feet swinging a little.

"Oh, trust me. I understand completely." I murmured.

"Did making your passion into your profession change what it meant to you? Does it still hold the same therapeutic properties?" She asked with genuine curiosity in her face.

"Yes and no, it has changed what my own music does for me personally once it is released. But honestly, music is a vast wilderness. You can find or make anything you need, and it can be just for you, or for sharing. I see it as a limitless medium. I am one tiny little grain of sand on that beach." I took my time in my explanation, wanting her to understand more than I have ever cared about anyone understanding me before. 

"That makes perfect sense." She smiles at me. I stood up and carefully set down the guitar, walking over to her. I slid my hands back to her knees and spread them gently, stepping between them once again.

"Can I kiss you any time I want?" I asked her, lifting her chin with my finger so she was looking at me as I asked.

"Probably." She whispered with a shy smile, leaning towards me a little. I teased her, leaning in slowly and tucking her hair back ridiculously tediously. Finally I felt her hand snake around the back of my neck and before I realized what was happening I felt her lips crush against mine.