---
The way you sing unlocks my heart
Just like a key, like a key
And brings you right back home to me
---
Chapter Thirty Five - The Euphoric
Her nimble fingers delicately gripped the tea cups decorated to the rim with blue and pink flowers, adjusting them speedily in her hands as she took the safest route to their bedroom. Her strides were long and haste, so it was nearly effortless to make it. Fortunately, she had left the door slightly ajar, so she merely slipped inside. The back of her left foot kicked the door closed behind her while she walked towards the bed where he lay, snoring softly beneath the quilt his Nan had stitched for him last Christmas.
“Harry,” she called, setting the tea cups side-by-side on the bedside table. “Harry, wake up.”
A stifled groan escaped his pink, heart-shaped lips. He tugged the quilt closer towards his body, turning on his right so he was opposite her. She chuckled, moving a string of curly hair from his tired face. The familiar touch of her fingers effectively brought his eyes to an awakening. When he noticed her sat on the little space between his body and the edge of the queen-sized bed, a sentimental smile formed on his lips.
“Good morning, Genevieve.” He said, in a raspy tone of voice that made everything within her do several somersaults.
She smiled. “I made you tea.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah,” she pointed a solemn finger towards the cups. “Wash up quickly and I’ll pour you some.”
Despite feeling quite a bit lousy, Harry nodded and lifted himself out of bed. He was dressed purely in his boxers, making Genevieve avert her gaze when he walked by. Of course, he noticed the cute blush which easily made home in her cheeks, but said nothing. Instead, he smiled to himself, wondering how on God’s bloody Earth he managed to fall in love with such a lovely girl. She was beyond his valley of understanding, she honestly was.
When he returned, only a few minutes later, though the tea had fallen somewhat cold, he insisted she pour him half a cup which he drank rather hurriedly. She had taken a more comfortable spot on the bed where she could cross her legs and waited for him.
“I don’t feel too well,” he admitted, dropping his arms on the pillow spread across his lap. His head fell back against the headboard while he released a sigh. “I think I’ll cancel on rehearsals today.”
She arched forward to place a gentle hand to his forehead, feeling the warmth immediately attach to her frail skin. “You are warming up a bit. Want me to call in for you?”
Instead of answering her concerning question, he smirked, leant forward, and softly pressed his lips to hers. The pillow on his lap fell between them, creating a spacious divide. It was times like these Genevieve wished she could stop time forever. These startling kisses (though she would never, ever admit it), were the smile on her face for the long hours she worked at The X Factor studios. His gentle touch on her skin caused a blazing fire, dimmed by him alone.
She remembers a time when they first met and all she could think was, “how can one person be so wonderful?” Because he bumped into her accidently, chasing after a little boy she later realized was Louise’ nephew. He apologized several times over, even offering to lend a hand with the piles of dresses she was carrying. She said no, obviously, but he was persistent, and he took the dresses from her. He smiled at her again and hell, she knew that was it.
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The Official Boyband Handbook
FanficThe world's biggest boyband has met the world's biggest problem.