Unlikely (H.S.)

thirty-two

~Harry~

As soon as I stepped into the studio, I closed the door behind me, letting the cool quiet of the room settle over my skin. The faint hum of the equipment, the soft glow of the ambient lights—it was familiar, a refuge. My chest was tight, and my thoughts were tangled in the kind of knots only music could loosen.

I didn't turn on the main lights. I liked the dimness, the way it softened the edges of the room. I crossed to the guitar leaning against the wall and picked it up, settling onto the worn leather stool.

The notebook I'd left earlier in the day was still open on the desk, the scrawled beginnings of the song I'd been working on staring back at me. The one about her.

I ran my fingers lightly over the strings, testing the tension, before I started to strum. Slow, deliberate, letting the chords carry the weight in my chest.

"You bloom like spring in a frozen heart..."

The line was there, unfinished, teasing me. I strummed again, a little harder this time, the sound filling the empty space.

My mind drifted back to her—Harper in the pond, grinning at me with her hair slicked back, water droplets clinging to her skin. Harper in my kitchen, teasing me about my pancakes, laughing like she didn't have a care in the world. Harper in my bed, her fingers tracing the lines of my tattoos like they were secrets only she could decipher.

Fuck, I love her. 

Maybe this is it?

I could marry her...

She makes me that happ

"But the sun burns too bright, and the shadows are too sharp..."

I scribbled the line down in the notebook, the pencil pressing harder than I intended. The words felt raw, unpolished, but they were real.

The chords shifted under my fingers, picking up a new rhythm. Something darker, heavier, matching the unease twisting in my gut.

"I let you in, you broke down the walls... Thought it was love, but I'm bracing for the fall..."

I stopped, the sound lingering in the air as I stared at the page. The pencil hovered over the notebook, my hand frozen.

I didn't want this. I didn't want to write about heartbreak, about betrayal. But it was all I could feel right now, bubbling under the surface like it was waiting to spill over.

I tried again, forcing myself back to the melody.

"Your smile's a thief, your touch is a crime..."

Buzz.

Buzz.

Buzz.

Not right now, I'm fucking onto something.

I ignored it at first. Whatever it was, it could wait until morning. Right now, I wanted to stay in the haze of inspiration, the way my thoughts kept drifting to Harper—her laugh, her warmth, the way she looked at me like I was more than the sum of my parts.

But the phone buzzed again, a second time, then a third.

Jeff.

Something twisted in my gut. Jeff didn't call this many times unless something was wrong. I sighed, reluctantly reaching for the phone and swiping to answer.

"Jeff," I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. "It's late. What's going on?"

"Mate," Jeff said, his tone tight, serious. "We've got a problem."