Dear Harry (Harry Styles Fanfic)

Ch.11

Dear Harry, 

Things have not been good. I woke up this morning, my arms reaching out, looking for you. It has been so incredibly hard no waking up with you snuggled up against me. I sat up and stared at the empty space next to me, wishing that it was occupied you. If only I had known that it would be like this, I wouldn't have taken those mornings for granted. The mornings where I'd open my eyes, and see your green ones staring right back at me, just an inch or two away. The mornings where I'd reach out and gently twirl my fingers through your messy curls- a pastime that both of us seemed to enjoy more than we should. The mornings where you wouldn't let me get out of bed until we shared our dreams with each other- and maybe a few kisses too. 

This morning was particularly difficult because as I got off the mattress, trying to recover from my Harry Withdrawal, my eyes landed on your guitar in the corner of the room. My body suddenly became weak, a horrible pain striking my insides. I had never gone this long without hearing your wonderful music.

It all started on your eighteenth birthday, during the summer before our senior year of high school. I remember how I had wanted to see you first thing in the morning, so I quickly got dressed and ran over to your house. I walked straight in, expecting to see you at the kitchen table, inhaling a stack of chocolate chip pancakes- something you always did on your birthday. Instead of finding you, I walked into your mother, who was still setting up your breakfast meal. After giving me a kiss on the cheek, she pointed to the stairs. 

"He just woke up," she informed me before turning around and flipping another pancake.

I excitedly ran up the stairs, gradually slowing to a tip-toe the closer I got to your room. Just as I was going to walk into your bedroom, I heard you in the bathroom. I quietly skittered against the door, curious as to what your were saying. Upon listening more closely, I realized that you were in the shower. I also realized that you were singing.

When I say singing, I don't mean your typical 'shower singing'. In fact, it was anything but. What I heard was a full on private concert. In all honesty, I wondered if it was a radio that I was hearing. In all of our years together, not once had you mentioned that you sang like a complete professional, and I began to wonder why. If someone has talent like that, they shouldn't let it go to waste.

As soon as I heard the water turn off, I quickly ran into your room, taking a seat on your bed. Seconds later, you came in, wearing nothing but a towel loosely draped around your hips. Surprise filled your expression when you saw me sitting there, but you soon recovered, a smile returning to your lips. After wishing you a happy birthday- and getting a nice look at your uncovered abdomen- I gazed at you with suspicion.

"What?" you chuckled while swiftly pulling on some sweatpants.

I stared you down for another second before saying, "When were you going to tell me that you sing?"

The smirk was wiped off your face, your lips tweaking downwards. "You were listening to me in the shower?"