COCO'S

24

Cloe Marín

I feel like I do not know Harry as well as he knows me.

Four weeks, is the time that I have known him for, and in that period, he has learned so much about my past life, things that nobody else knows.

For years, those memories, or issues, or whatever, have been entirely mine. Like, if I hadn't shared them, they weren't real. But they are for sure, I just feel a little bit overwhelmed sometimes when I think about how easy I have opened up to him.

Even when I used to date my ex-boyfriend, Luca, I couldn't tell him such things. Truth is, Harry has been much open-minded and caring than he ever was.

But, what do I know about Harry, though? He is a songwriter, he is here on holidays, he is a bit famous, had an abusive ex, and goes to therapy. That is exactly what I know about him. As crazy as it sounds.

I am not a person that focuses much on the people's background, especially when the person doesn't want to share or felt sorry for. But it still makes me wonder about his life—when is his birthday, how he treats his mom, who are his best friends, what is his favorite food, does he have siblings...I have told him before, I have so many questions, and the feeling of a clock ticking behind me somehow.

Maybe that is why I have been silent the entire time we have been in the car, back to Livorno.

The song Just A Little Bit Of Your Heart by Ariana Grande begins to play, I notice how Harry looks straight to the aux, frowning, "I wrote this one."

I lift my eyebrows, surprised, as we hear the piano and some vocals, "You did?"

"Yeah, a lot time ago. It was one of the first songs I ever sold, I'd say the first actually." He says.

"Wow." I mumble in awe, listening to the vulnerable lyrics that I now know were written by him, "How old were you then?"

"Around eighteen, I believe." He nods to the song.

I listen to the song, it is a very cute one, so soft and you can listen how in love he must have been by how he wrote the words to it. I know he might have felt weird selling this one to someone.

"Is it weird that someone else is singing it?" I ask, "Selling your songs, I mean."

"Do you feel weird when you see your paintings hung in your grandma's house?" He fires back, a smile on his mouth.

"A bit." I admit.

"It's similar," Harry shrugs, "At first it is very weird, but you get used to it eventually."

"Well, if you actually sang them, that wouldn't be a problem, wouldn't it?" I say with a devilish smile.

He chuckles, shaking his head with a eye roll, "I guess so." He ends up saying.

He will do it. Mark my words.

Someday Harry is going to change the world.

At least for some of us, he has already done it.

We fall back into silence like our latest talks, but I don't want to give it up just yet. I do not want to be left alone with my thoughts again.

"You want to play a game?" I say instead.

"I spy with my little eye..." Harry trails off and I laugh, "Not that kind of game?"

I shake my head, "No, it's called 'I ask, you answer'." I grin at him.

"You're a curious one, you know that?" He says as he keeps driving, "Can I ask as well?"

"Sure," I shrug my shoulders, "So...When's your birthday?"