Silk || hs

Communication Is Key

Harry drives us down a strip of beaches called "30A" and we enter a segment that is just about one the cutest towns I have ever seen. Rosemary Beach is a fairly long stretch of road with cute little shops and restaurants on either side. There are sidewalks and swaying palm trees that line the roads and cut through the surprisingly green grass. There's even a little plaza that is entirely laden with white cobblestone, and as I think we're about to pass it, Harry turns into it and parks his truck near the entrance of a very tourist-friendly cobblestone street.

Confused, I look to Harry questioningly, but he just shrugs and says a nonchalant, "We're here."

"What's the plan, though?" I ask, and he chuckles softly to himself before taking the keys from the ignition and looking over to me.

"Well, our hotel is just down this street, so I thought we'd change then go to the restaurant. It's right across from it, so there's no rush," Harry smiles at me briefly before opening the door and stepping outside.

Aight, that's chill. We are staying the night, then. I suppose this is okay.

Harry opens the door for me and I grab one of my two bags, much to Harry's dismay. But no matter how strong the boy thinks he is, there simply is no way that he could carry both my things as well as his own. It's just not a thing that's going to happen, nor is it necessary. I have arms. We walk towards the hotel, and y'all, let me just say that cobblestone streets are very aesthetically pleasing, but walking on them with a heavy duffel bag is not an easy task that I particularly enjoy.

The hotel is one of the first buildings down the wide alleyway, so we don't have to walk far. It's a fairly tall building with an all white exterior and dark wooden beams and shutters. We walk in, and Harry checks us in while I stare at the spacious, well-decorated lobby. I'm gonna be honest, I was expecting more of a Hampton Inn, but this place is super nice, and I'm kind of worried about how much it's costing him. Harry can be so extra sometimes, and this is definitely one of those times.

Once we're alone in the elevator, I ask him about how much staying here is going to cost, but he shrugs it off, saying that I shouldn't worry about it. This lowkey frustrates me because feminism, you know, but I don't say anything else because ya girl is very broke from buying this formal dress for tomorrow. If he wants to pay for all of this, then he is more than welcome to. I just have to pretend to want to contribute, so I'm not too much of a gold digger.

We get to our floor and I am surprised to see that there are two queen sized beds in the middle of our very large hotel room. Not gonna lie, I would have thought that Harry would have just assumed to get one bed, seeing as guys rarely understand that they've screwed up. I guess the week long period of barely talking made him realize that we aren't entirely okay right now, thus the need for two beds. If that's the case, then this is probably the one and only instance when the silent treatment will ever work in my lifetime.

Harry shifts his bag on his shoulder and looks towards me, a nervous tension presenting itself in his expression, "Which bed do you want?"

Though I knew the question was coming, hearing him ask it makes me feel extremely disappointed. I don't want us to be so distant towards each other because honestly, it's driving me crazy, and this small separation is only making it worse. But alas, I can't rush things to be back where they were; there are things that need discussing. Therefore, I set my bag down on the floor and choose the bed by the window. Hopefully he didn't have a preference.

I change out of my leggings and sweatshirt and put on some jeans and a nicer long-sleeve shirt. Harry  exchanges his sweatshirt for a nice button down, and I can't help but smile at the fact that he genuinely does look like a Southerner preparing to go to church on a Sunday. He's not wearing the khakis, but his blue jeans are close enough.