Soon, My Friend (Currently Editing)

What a gift

The days went by and I learned a few certain things: Harry took a long time getting dressed, whether it was with the boys or only me being present.

Niall was usually just walking around in his bathrobe (and only the bathrobe, a film on my phone could prove that fact) drinking Red Bull. Zayn was always carrying his phone around, his cigarette behind his ear. Louis was always somewhere else, sometimes it was harder to find him than usual - he'd always found himself a place to play football or work on his vocal techniques.

And Liam was always ready, waiting impatiently for the others.

I was on my own a lot.

I enjoyed it, I did, although it happened I spent time with some of the staff who'd have a few hours off - which I obviously appreciated. We'd leave the hotel, or the "base" as they liked to call the different places we'd stay at, and I would get to do some sightseeing, shopping (sometimes limited for some reason) and visit local markets.

And the weather: rainy and foggy - or sunny and hot. I don't know why, but it just was.

I met Harry and the boys whenever they had time. I had no choice but adapting to their availability; five minutes here and two hours there. And so I began to fill my days with different achievements. One could, for example, be to do some sightseeing in the various large cities, like.. You know. Look around. I shopped a pair of shoes for fancy events (not very successful, then, I basically tried the shoes once and they actually were too small), I'd buy gifts for family and friends at home and even buy gifts for Harry.

The problem was that I never found something personal to give him.

One day I walked alone in the shopping streets of Valencia and was desperate for something to buy for Harry. The management had sent me downtown in a taxi and at one point, in the corner of a jewelry shop, I started weeping because I was exhausted and so afraid to get lost.

I did get a taxi back to the hotel, that was no problem, but I felt so small and helpless.

As mentioned I never found anything that symbolized something special, not anything more personal than sex. All I got was white lace underwear.

It started to become a proper problem. He could happily spoil me away - get me a personal shopper to all of a sudden buy me designer clothes, he'd give me money, he did bloody buy me an entire holiday, he gave me insight into the kind of the work he did and what life he had - and what I could offer him in return was nothing compared to that.

I never got to give him something back without everything feeling problematic. I was so helpless. Didn't feel that I was good enough. And that's scary. Yeah, blowjobs, handjobs, he could gladly come on my tits, I'd ride him all night long if he wished for it. What two people can share with each other were the only things I could give back.

Magnificent example of that is when Harry hired a private jet just for the two of us heading to Valencia while the others were leaving later. I couldn't stop grinning and looked at all of the luxury surrounding us as if I'd discovered Narnia and transformed into an Avatar at the same time, or something.

After barley twenty minutes in the air I was still staring out of the window. Down at the ocean, the crystal clear Balearic Sea. Harry quickly flipped through the pages of a book. I knew he wasn't reading it. He was watching me.

Oh, how my whole body pounded.

The hurried way he was turning the pages revealed him. When I peeked up at him he looked down again and pretended his attention was elsewhere. Why did he try to hide that he was ogling me? He was the worst. Then he put away the book and, like.. casually started to read the security instructions. I still felt his eyes on me when I shrugged out of my cardigan.