Far Too Many Good Intentions. (Harry Styles)

I just wanna take someone else's holiday.

We arrived in the heart of London by noon. Just before we made our first stop, Harry pulled the large grey beanie over his head, causing me to giggle.

"Don't laugh!" he warned, poking my cheek with his finger, before sliding a pair of Wayfarer sunglasses over his eyes. My heart felt heavier somehow, now that I couldn't see them anymore.

He handed me a pair as well. "You should probably put these on." I did what I was told, and together we stepped out into the chilly autumn day. Harry grabbed my hand protectively, dragging me along into the direction of a Topman.

I kept my face hidden beneath my hat, pulling my coat tighter around me. "You're a pro at this," Harry whispered in my ear when we made it inside. I shrugged, coughing a little again.

I noticed he hadn't let go of my hand yet. He stared down at me, a soft smile reaching his lips. I couldn't look away from him as he reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear where it had fallen out of the beanie. He sighed, and dropped his hand back to his sides. It took everything in my power to keep breathing.

"We're here to get shirts, Harry," I reminded him.

"Help me look, please," he whined, jutting his bottom out in a pout. With a face like that, how could I say no?

Four hours later, we had gone to three shops, but we'd bought fourteen shirts, and one pair of trousers. And every time the cashier rung up the price, my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

We walked back to the car, Harry carrying two large bags. "Well, I'd say we were successful," I croaked. My voice was failing me again, and another round of medication was coming my way.

He sent me a wide smile, noticing me. "Don't make fun of me," I groaned.

We fell into a comfortable silence, until I suddenly turned to him. "Sing me a song," I blurted. "Please? I've never heard you sing."

He laughed. "What to you want to hear?"

"Anything."

He quickly broke out into a very cheesy rendition of Sinatra's 'My Kind Of Town', getting a laugh from me.

"Now, for real," I said, smacking his arm after he was finished. He looked at me uneasily.

"You really want to hear, huh?"

"Yes! Now go on," I coaxed.

So after hesitating slightly, he cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and sang.

Harry's voice was unlike anything I'd ever heard; it was soft and raspy and so, so perfect. A smile spread across my face as I listened to him sing the words to 'This Boy' by James Morrison. When he hit the last note, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have goosebumps.

"How was that?" he laughed slightly, ruffling his hair.

"Beautiful," I said, and it was the most sincere statement I'd ever made in my life.

We pulled up to the curb in front of his apartment, our apartment. He held the door opened for me, and we stood at the lift together. This whole moment, for some reason, seemed slightly bittersweet for me, and I felt myself getting emotional. I don't know why, but I suddenly had the urge to cry.

"I'm looking for a job soon," I spoke up. "So I can pay you and Lou back somehow with rent and whatever. You've been so kind to me with all of this, and--" Swallowing the lump in my throat, I looked up at the ceiling to try and stop the tears from coming. "And I just want to...give back as best as I can for that, because I feel like I haven't done enough."

The lift pinged, and the doors opened. Harry was still silent as we stepped in. When we got into the apartment, I looked at him for approval. He was gazing at me with a mixture of sadness and something else I couldn't place.