Harry Styles Imagines Book 2

Strawberries & Memories

"You're lying right?"

I shake my head, unable to suppress the massive grin threatening to break out on my face. "I am dead fucking serious, Morgs."

While I wait for her to process, I take in the calming sound of the waves rolling over the sandy beach before retracting back into the ocean again and the warm sun hitting my skin. My sunburnt skin.

I need to start remembering to wear sunscreen when I'm here. Or anywhere with sun and the danger of getting sunburnt.

I did my best to avoid getting sand in my shoes, but the second I stepped onto the beach, that game was lost. Under normal circumstances, I would have been grumpy and frustrated about it until I was back

"You're telling me that the man you've been drooling over since you were a teenager invited you out for drinks...and you said no?" I flinch when she screams the last part, grimacing at the unnecessarily loud volume.

"Jeez. Calm down please.", I plead, deciding to just sit down in the sand. My phone is in my tote bag, probably getting the screen in worse condition than it already is as Morgan keeps scolding me for being responsible and not going out with someone who's virtually a stranger.

"...finally getting some action. You know if you keep not taking opportunities like these, then you're going to end up being the grumpy cat lady who is mean to everyone but her cats."

"At least I would be the cool aunt to your kids.", I point out, expecting her to argue it. But instead, she changes the topic, "So since you obviously weren't busy with a man these last two days I haven't heard from you. What were you doing?"

"I've been getting busy with my laptop."

Margot giggles, "I hope you hear how sad that sounds, Anna. You're in LA and you're couped up in a café and your hotel room with your laptop instead of doing something you can't do back home."

I know she's right. But there isn't a lot I can do about it. When inspiration strikes, I have to use it. Because there is very little that compares to when the block finally eases up and everything you've wanted to get out just flows out just the way you want it to.

"I am outside now. And not at a café. To socialise.", I defend my life choices even though I know she isn't going to change her mind. She rarely ever does.

It's one of the things I love most about her.

"Whatever you say, baby." Morgan doesn't sound convinced at all. "I gotta go. I've got a hot date waiting for me."

"You better tell me all about them when I get home tomorrow night."

We say our goodbyes rather quickly. The second she hangs up; Spotify resumes my playlist. It has an instant calm wash over me when the familiar melody to 'Night Changes' starts. The same way the water does the beach.

I've always had a love for music in general. Not just because music is something truly and undeniably beautiful. It's also the ability it has to make me go from devastatingly sad to dancing with joy in a beat. And vice versa. Or the way it can transport you back to a moment you've tied to the song so effortlessly you don't even notice it until the memory is playing like a movie in your head.

It still feels surreal that I've met the man who's written a lot of the songs that gave me the strength to keep clawing myself back off the edge when all I'd wanted to do was let go.

I'm honestly convinced I had a stroke at some point and these past few days are just a figment of my own imagination while my body is in a coma somewhere. And I have a tube stuffed down my throat and the doctors have decided I'm brain dead and they're about to pull the plug so all my organs can be donated to the dumpsters.