Hey Angel. //h.s//

//Failure//

Harry's POV:

'I didn't say you could leave' and then I smash my lips upon hers. I knew it was too soon to kiss her. Hell, it's only been a week. Most of that week spent separated, I only just learnt her fucking name. It's just the way she played and how we sang together, I just had to do something. I couldn't just let her leave and it seemed like the only way to make her stay, and she did. She stayed until the sun rose up and the last coffee was drunk. We parted ways and haven't spoken since that day or about that kiss.

Harry: Can you meet for coffee? X

She's not going to reply.

Grace: Okay, 10 minutes?

I guess I was wrong.

Harry: Sure, see you soon love x

It's not that I'm scared, it's just that I can't anticipate how either of us will act. It's not like the kiss meant anything to either of us, well to me at least. I pick up my keys and place them in my pocket before shutting my door and heading down the stairs. I walk to the coffee shop and see her big blue eyes gazing out the window; I finally get to the door and swing it open, entering the café. I take a seat on the sofa opposite her, neither of us saying anything.

I let my eyes wander down, watching her fingers twiddle nervously on the table as I hear her feet scuff against the floor. They eventually rise back up and stare at her face, which evidently is looking downwards at her mug. I place my hands together and let out a sigh,

'Why are you ignoring me?' I ask, breaking the awkward silence between the two of us.
'I'm not ignoring you, I'm just choosing to not meet up with you' she says patronisingly.
'That sounds like ignoring to me' I answer back, my grip getting tighter under the table.
'I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything' well least she's honest.

At this point her eyes have met mine and she hasn't tried to pull away from the contact, I couldn't think of anything to say after she had been so blunt to me.

'Harry, why did you kiss me?' she asks.
'I don't know, it seemed like a good idea at the time. It felt like the only thing that would make you stay and you did. Can we just pretend it never happened?' I say honestly.
'I suppose so, as long as you don't kiss me again'
'I promise I won't kiss you, unless you ask me' I smirk back to her, not saying I wouldn't kiss her again if the opportunity arose. Her lips have the perfect plumpness.

'So seen as we are here, in a café, the stigmas lead me to believe that we have to at least get to know each other' she laughs,
'I guess we could do that' the smirk continuing
'Okay Harry, when did you start singing?' she asks.
'Um, I can't remember the exact age but my dad used to play all these songs on this old record player we had and I remember singing along with him. I used to use the broom as a microphone/guitar, my own one man band. Despite it being taller than me, I'd sing Elvis Presley to my family' my smile widens but then falters at the memory of my past.
'What's wrong?' she asks, clearly wondering why my smile disappeared at the very obvious happy memory.

'Nothing, don't worry' I shrug it off, trying to change the subject,
'Anyway you asked your question, it's my go. When did you start singing?' my lack of originality astounds me.

'I was about 8 when I started to play piano. That was my first love. My mum would sit with me for hours, as my little fingers would plonk on each key. Eventually she'd sing the songs back to me; even if I hated a song, I pushed through it because each time she sang, her eyes would gleam. One day, she wasn't there so I sang it myself. I didn't hear the door open until I felt her warmth beside me. She said I had a gift, I thought she meant playing the piano.' she takes a breath after finishing, my mouth is agape as I take in her words. How could she not know she was talented?