Love on Tour

Orlando, FL

Orlando, Florida

"You know that's probably the first time I'm on a plane, and I didn't read a book." You tell Harry as you put your lilac cardigan on, taking the black Saint Laurent backpack he was holding for you.

"Are you saying I'm good at keeping you entertained?"

"Yup, you're a good storyteller. Should forget the singing career," you tease.

Harry throws his head back, laughing. "I'll be sure to mention it to Jeff."

You watch him go down the steps, your eyes trained on his ass that looks amazing in the Harago embroidered shorts. You thank the air hostess one last time before ascending down.

You feel the Florida air hit you and hold back a grimace. You love sunny weather but also like a bit of wind with it, not the humidity. Harry offers his hand to you as you're on the last few steps and accept it, not wanting to fall on your face. You thank the crew once more, just as Harry does. He's making a few jokes as you begin to walk ahead. Walking directly on the tarmac and then into a car is always a bit weird.

Harry rushes forward, taking your hand in his as he walks you to your car that will take you to the venue. New York was a dream, but you were excited for Florida, a bit of sunshine, maybe a bit of sightseeing. It would be a bit of traveling as there were three shows scattered around.

As soon as you get in the car, you relax and lean against Harry. All this traveling gets tiring, but you can't say you aren't enjoying it.

You get to travel with your boyfriend—it gives you butterflies every time you think about it and see him perform in a new outfit each night. You are almost at the halfway mark of shows, and you're trying to plan a pleasant surprise for Harry, and you're currently running blank. You've told Jeff you want to do something for North Carolina in a few days, and you have his full support. The only good thing is you have time to plan.

The drive to the venue felt quick, Harry having played his playlist titled "Sunshine" and telling you about which one was his favorite and which he didn't like so much anymore but matched the playlist well. Harry was shocked when he learned you weren't that well-versed in music—well, English music, at least. Growing up, your Hispanic grandparents exposed you to artists like Selena Quintanilla, Menudo, and Los Bukis.

You showed him new stuff as well, something he did not actively search for, but at random times throughout the day, you would receive texts of songs you might like or songs he found by a Spanish artist you enjoyed. There indeed, was no dull moment with Harry when there was still so much to learn.

You both shared a mutual love for Joni Mitchell, something Harry did not stop talking about. You didn't want him to, either.

Arriving at the venue, Jeff left you both get settled in the dressing room until Harry was called for soundcheck. You saw him place small things in the room to make it feel like home; he threw his pink beanie on the couch, took your backpack, and hung it on a hook next to his. Then walked over to his outfit for the night and opened it up as if to let it breathe.

"You're going to look very nice tonight."

"Yeah, missed the suspenders, did you?"

You tilt your head taking in the powder blue suspenders. "Maybe, I will miss the fitted trousers."

Harry rolls his eyes playfully, "Be back soon enough."

"They better."

Your phone rings just as Jeff walks into the room with Tommy behind him. Harry frowns because your time together has been cut short for the time being. You pick up your phone "Naomi," a bit odd. "Go on, H. I'll be out soon enough."