Eight | W2S

TWENTY.

"So when you sing, say my name and everything just stops — you want the track to stop, too?" Sam asks, working his magic in his office.

I nod my head. "The last time I sing it, yeah," I agree, and he reruns the track, adding the effect. It plays through on the speaker, and it sounds fucking perfect. The song still has a long way to go, a couple verses that I haven't written yet; but the main part of the song was incredible.

"Okay! I love it. But you're killing me...I have to ask, song inspo?" He asks the dreaded question that had been avoided all day. He'd been pretty respectful as to not ask any questions so far, but six hours of writing a pretty steamy track clearly raised questions.

I knew that telling Sam was safe. He didn't know anyone in my world, and I knew he wouldn't tell anyone in his, either.

"Me and Harry, we —" I start, but apparently that's all I need to say.

"Finally! After all that pining," he laughs, and I'm laughing too until his words stick with me.

"Pining and anticipation," I murmur, seeing how the two sounded together.

"Hmm?" Sam asks, but then realises what I'm doing and quietens down.

"Pining and anticipation," I say again, singing it to a melody that would fit the track. "Silence and patience — all of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation," I repeat, and it sounds more together now.

"I like that — that's good," Sam compliments, and we're able to work out one of the verses.

"Want a break? I'm gonna head out and get coffees," Sam offers, as we hit hour eight in the studio.

"I'm gonna stay here," I decide, nestled up in the armchair.

"Want a coffee?" He offers, which obviously I say yes to, because I am absolutely hanging. "See you in a bit," he waves, grabbing his keys and leaving me on my own.

As Sam leaves, I take a moment to stretch and relax, feeling the weight of the day's work in my muscles. Writing this song had been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, purely because of how personal it was, capturing the intense, private moments between Harry and me. 

I was slightly convinced now that I would end up releasing the music I'd written, maybe not in the near future, but one day, when everything made more sense. 

Just as I'm about to get back to work, my phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call from Harry. I'm not ashamed to admit that my heart skips a beat as I see his name on the screen, despite how normal it had become in the last couple of days. It was just another reminder of how quickly things were progressing, and I was unsure of how I felt about that. 

I hesitate for a moment before accepting the call, reminding myself to act normal. After all, I had been writing about the first time we'd hooked up for the last eight hours. 

"Hey," I greet him, trying to keep my voice steady as he pops up on my screen, very obviously in bed, scruffy hair and all. "Have you just woken up?"

"...maybe. I was up late last night," he explains, his morning voice thick and heavy. "What are you up to?"

I turn my camera around, showing him Sam's office. "In the studio again."

He smiles, and as always, it makes me melt knowing it's for me. "How's it going?" He asks, sounding genuinely interested. 

"It's good," I say, smiling. "We've been making some progress."

"Course you are. I can't wait to listen to what you've been working on," he says, his eyes twinkling with excitement.