The Maid For Styles

Chapter 52

Chloe's POV

It was Monday afternoon and neither Harry nor I had left Harry's bed. My back was against the wall as I sat on my bed, my guitar resting in my lap as I strummed a couple of unfamiliar cords. Harry was next to me, his torso next to mine, his legs laying on top of mine, that were outstretched in front of me. He held his phone in his hand, his thumb swiping up and down the screen. His bottom lip was sucked into his mouth and his jaw moved with each nibble he performed on his lower lip.

My fingers flicked against the cords of my guitar, whilst my other hand moved along the neck of the guitar, pressing down on a different each time, changing the sound of the notes. I tapped the bodyof the guitar after I strummed a few cords, and slightly nodded my head along to the foreign tune I was, in a sense, composing.

"That sounds good, love," Harry spoke up, locking his phone and dropping into his lap, before turning his head to look at me.

"Yeah?" I questioned as I stopped strumming.

"Yeah," he confirmed, sending me a smile. "You should write it down, just in case you ever come across some lyrics or something that fits the tune."

I giggled a little. "I can't remember what I played," I spoke, smiling sheepishly.

Harry rolled his eyes, before grinning over at me. He outstretched his hand. "Give it 'er. I think I can remember."

I handed him the guitar. "You weren't the one playing, though, man," I spoke playfully.

"Doesn't mean I didn't hear what you played," he winked, setting the guitar in a comfortable position. "What's up with 'man'?" He questioned, his fingers resting against the strings.

"I don't know, "I shrugged. "Trying something new."

"Hmm, I like it," he chuckled.

"Yeah, man?" I laughed.

"Yeah, bro," Harry nodded, laughing along with me.

His accent gave the words an amusing twist and I couldn't help but laugh even harder after he spoke the words. Harry seemed to know why I was laughing, so he laughed along with me. In the end, I rested my head on his shoulder, my laughter dying down.

"Okay," I said through small giggles. "Play what I played."

He nodded. "Alright, here goes nothing."

His fingers started to strum the chords I'd previously played, and I frowned at how he knew exactly what I'd played, and pouted at how perfectly he recollected the chords. His legs were still on top of mine, so I kicked them off and sat up straight, leaning over to Harry's bedside table and grabbing the nearest implement that would suffice as a writing book.

My eyes landed on a brown leather book that was sticking out of Harry's draw. I pulled it out and held it in my hands as I turned back to Harry. The leather bound book was covered in scratches and it was definitely worn out. Three stars drawn in blue pen were on the front of the book, along with various words, and I smiled at the way it had childishly been drawn. I assumed the book was old and I didn't think it had been used, seeing as it was in Harry's drawer- a drawer I'd not once seen him open. I went to open the book, before Harry stopped playing and placed his hand on top of the book.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his eyes wide.

"I was going to write down the chords," I spoke as if it were obvious.

"Uhm, you can't use that," he chuckled awkwardly, his tone rushed and frantic. "Here," he spoke, leaning over the top of me and digging his hand into the drawer, pulling out a black note pad. He handed to me and snatched the brown leather book from my hands. "Use this."