Because Hearts Get Broken

Darling, let's run

*mature content ⚠️ warning*

Harry runs off the stage. For months, he's been in perpetual motion—shows, interviews, photo shoots, rehearsals. Now, with his final bow taken, the euphoria of the last show mingles with sheer exhaustion, and he feels his mind and body are finally ready for a break.

The band is cheering loud, jumping in a circle of tangled embraces. They're gearing up for one last evening celebrating together. But Harry needs a minute alone to process it all, so he makes his way to his dressing room. He jogs down the corridor, sweaty and dishevelled, contemplating a quick, warm shower before joining his team. For now, he just wants a quiet moment to let it all sink in.

When he opens the door to his dressing room, his heart skips a beat.

He freezes in the doorway, barely believing the sight in front of him.
She's here, sitting on the main sofa, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
At the sound of the door, she looks up, and her eyes full of hope and anxiety meet his. As he steps inside, she stands quickly.

He tries to suppress it, but he knows his surprise is written on his face.
His eyes drift over her figure and linger on her face, searching for any hint of why she's here. But all he achieves is a fluttering in his heart. Somehow, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, dressed simply in a shirt and matching short skirt. Her hair falls in soft waves, loose around her shoulders, and she wears no makeup, just a bare, natural glow that makes her seem even more real. He also notices the weekend bag beside her feet on the floor.

"Taylor," he chokes out, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hi," she replies with a timid wave, her eyes wide and expectant.

Suddenly, he feels self-conscious, aware of his sweaty appearance. He's still in his stage outfit: gold tasselled leather trousers that catch the light and an equally shiny vest that clings to his toned physique. The glimmer of his clothes contrasting sharply with her natural look, making him feel even more exposed in front of her.

"I'm sorry for showing up like this. I know you probably have every reason to turn me away now... but if you just-"

"I wouldn't turn you away," he interrupts quietly, and a light frown knits his brows together. He wouldn't, even if this encounter hurts, whatever it is she's come to say.

Crossing his arms defensively, he embraces himself, a protective instinct against any potential emotional blow she might have unintentionally come to inflict on him.

"Why are you here, though? It's been..."
He pauses to think back to the long months since they last spoke, feeling a flicker of the emptiness and frustration that had settled in after their last exchange.
"It's been a while," he concludes.

Taylor glances down at her feet, and gathers herself, before meeting his gaze again.

"I came for you," she says softly, her voice shaky with nerves.
She wets her lips, then bites them tentatively. It's clear she's been waiting here, rehearsing whatever she's about to say, and now that he's here, the words seem to catch in her throat.

His eyes trace the movement of her lips, and he feels his body respond instinctively.

"If you'll have me," she continues, her eyes finding his with renewed determination.

The initial shock of seeing him has faded, her heart is no longer pounding in her ears. And he hasn't sent her away.

Taylor bites her lip again, fighting to stay composed.

He simply stares, as though seeing right through her, once more.

She's never felt this vulnerable before, this on edge. But if this is her last chance, she's ready to risk everything; her pride, her heart. Locking eyes with him, she lets him see it all.