Selected || H.S

27.

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Since Harry gave me that key three days ago, I've always tried to guess what could be behind the door it opened. I've went from a library to a private garden, then to maybe the kitchen? I didn't know, really, but what actually is behind that door was beyond my expectations.

The room was as big as my suite. Half of the walls were covered with a green wallpaper decorated with golden flowers while the bottom half was a dark shade of brown wood. There were three large windows, each giving us a breathtaking view of the sunset and the royal gardens, giving the room a serene and warm atmosphere. It wasn't essentially filled with furniture, there was a single satin couch with a mahogany coffee table, a few chairs and a bookshelf. But what amazed me the most was the large, black and glistening piano placed in the center of the room.

But it wasn't any piano. It was an old one, with light scratches on the sides and slightly yellowing keys. Three letters were painted in gold on the side of it; A. L, Anne Limia.

This was the first Queen's piano. And he was letting me in this sacred room.

"I-I hope you like it." I hear him whisper behind me and I spin on my heels, meeting his eyes with a stunned expression.

"Harry, this is. . .This is Queen Anne's personal room, personal piano! I-I don't know what to say, this is beyond me, I--" He places one of his long fingers on my lips, shushing me quietly.

"This is my gift to you Mady. You don't have to worry about violating laws or anything. This room is yours now." He smiles, the shade of his eyes now brighter as the sunset caressed his features softly. He looked absolutely beautiful.

"I-I can't accept that Harry, I. . .This is just amazing. Her actual piano! I hope you realize that this is a huge deal to me," I giggle softly, making him chuckle lightly.

"I know, that's why I chose to give you the key. I knew it'd be the perfect present for you." His hand slides down my arm, his thumb caressing my skin and leaving a burning feeling on its path. 

"How could I ever repay it to you? I feel so awful now, oh god, Harry, you shouldn't have-"

"Hey," He places his hands on my shoulders, stopping my rumbling. "I know we still have problems to solve and everything, and as much as I want you to forgive about that guy as a 'thank you', I can't make you do it because it's not fair. All I wanted was to please you when I chose your gift, and I still do, even after what happened in England. And all you have to do to thank me. . .Is just play."

I stay silent after his small speech, taken aback by his words. He's so understanding with me, so careful with his words, knowing exactly what to say to make me feel better. I still can't believe that I got the chance to have his full attention, when there's still twenty-two other girls fighting for him. Do I deserve it? Do I deserve to have someone like him in my life? Right now, I feel like I don't. Not since what happened in England. I felt like I used him, and I disgusted myself. I can't help but feel guilty for my actions, even though I didn't do it on purpose. I was heartbroken and lost, and he was there at the right time to catch me. He listened to me, held me in his arms and wiped my tears away. He made me feel pleasure when I was in great pain. He made me smile when my heart was crumbling down. He slowly and carefully glued the pieces of my heart back, one at a time. So many more were left, but he was working on it. He became one of my best friends really quickly, showing that he deserved my trust and care for him, which I don't give to many people. But best friends isn't what we exactly are. We're more than that. Way more. There's obviously strong feelings mixed with it, clear for him and somewhat messy, yet gradually getting into something concrete for me.