Lights. Camera. PDA. (HS // au)

Shut the door, turn the light off

Savannah

"I got you. I'm taking you home."

His voice gives me a sense of relief and I snuggle deeper into his neck completely obscuring my face, as if somehow his existence is the only thing that'll keep me safe.

His arms are tightly wrapped around my waist and knees, and his breathing is slow and measured. He bends his body sideways as we reach the car and somehow manages to get inside flawlessly without letting me go or asking me to get in first with him following behind. I don't know how he managed to maneuver his and my body together successfully in the car, as if we aren't two pieces of flesh and bones but one soul that cannot be halved.

Throughout the journey, he keeps holding me close as I sit across his lap, my arms still around him and my face still buried in his neck. Maybe I should let go of him and sit on my own, after all, there is only so much he can do for me. But I feel that I might just fall into a black hole if I get away from him; because his presence is the only thing that is holding me together, his arms are securing the little piece of strength I may have left in me. His calm, deep breathing is relaxing the storm raging inside me, and his scent is the only thing that is keeping me grounded.

So, I don't let go of him. I don't.

"Harry?" One of the bodyguards, James, I think, speaks.

"Hmm?" Harry answers, his throat vibrates against my lips and I stifle a gasp.

"Gary's calling."

I feel him sigh as he says, "Tell him I'll speak to him tomorrow."

James, I think, begins to speak again. "He has already called five times now -"

"I said I'll talk to him tomorrow." Harry growls at him in a low tone, making sure his voice doesn't wake me up or disturb me.

Oh, how I wish I could fall asleep. But that is something which seems impossible for tonight.

The car stops moving and we come to a halt, as James and Chad get out and open Harry's door. He shuffles his body towards the door and I feel his muscles tense around me. The moment we get out, I hear voices as questions are thrown at us and cameras are flashed.

My grip around him tightens involuntarily and he softly whispers, "It's okay. You're okay."

My jaw clenches as I try not to cry, specially not in front of Harry who's trying so hard to take care of me. The last thing he needs is me having a breakdown.

I hear the unlocking of the door and we get inside. He carries me and puts me down on one of the couches.

"I'll be right back, okay?" He says in a hushed tone and unwraps my arms from around his neck. "I'll be right back."

I resist the urge of holding him again, because even though I'm in a messed up state, I do not want him to think I'm a terribly weak and clingy girl who can't take care of herself.

Even though I think I have already set an example for that.

I hear some low mumblings as Harry talks to James and Chad. My hand rests on the couch and it is then that I realize that we're not in my apartment.

This is Harry's apartment we're in.

I stroke the soft material of the beige coloured couch and look around the living room. There are three couches arranged perpendicularly to each other in a square with one side occupied by an electronic fireplace. There's a white fluffy carpet in the middle with a dark brown wooden table on it which has magazines sprawled over it.