Secret Love Song - Harry Styles Series

Time to Get Away - Part 44

Harry rolled over in bed during the middle of the night. He noticed he had rolled over to your side and it freaked him out because he should have crushed you with his body, however, you were nowhere to be found. Harry sighed running his hands over his face and looking at the time.

It was a little after three in the morning, so Harry waited a few minutes to see if you'd return to bed, but soon the clock hit three thirty, so he forced himself out of bed and went in search for you. The smell of coffee coming from downstairs sent Harry right down the stairs. You were sitting at the bar in the kitchen. All the lights were off, the only line shined from your laptop and a few candles you had lit.

You were wearing one of Harry's merch sweatshirts as you sat in the chair staring at a blank page.

"Everything okay?" Harry whispered as he walked a little towards you.

"Oh, uh, hey," you said. "Sorry if I woke you up."

"How long have you been down here?" He asked wrapping his arm around you.

"Um, maybe two hours," you shrugged sipping on your coffee. "I uh couldn't sleep, so I thought maybe I'd try and get some things done."

"Well, drinking coffee at four in the morning isn't exactly a way to get you back to sleep," Harry said.

"Yeah, I know," you laughed. "But the longer I stared at my laptop, nothing was coming, so I thought maybe coffee would bring something out of me."

"And looking at the screen... I'm assuming it didn't," he said.

"Nope," you laughed. "I'm just... I have this huge mental block."

"Didn't your therapist mention something about writing your story down?" He asked. "Like writing about your life or something."

"She did," you nodded. "But I don't know how I feel about that."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"My life... is exactly that my life. So much shit has happened... I don't know if I want to share that with other people," you said.

"I know exactly what you mean," he said. "But just because you write it all out, doesn't mean you have to share with anyone. Hell, you don't even have to share it with me. Sometimes just getting out everything you're feeling, both good and bad, will clear your mind enough for you get back doing what you want and need."

You bit your lip, "I don't know."

"Take it from someone who knows," he said. "Whenever I've got a lot going on or I feel like I can't write a song to save my life, I just start writing about whatever. Half the time the shit doesn't even make sense, but it helps me get out some things I didn't even know was bottled up inside of me. And once I see everything out, I try and find something in that dump pile that's worth writing about."

"I'm not trying to write a song though," you said.

"Writing is writing," he said. "Writing whether it be a song, a poem, a story, whatever, it still a release. It's still a way to speak your mind without actually having to speak it."

You sighed pulling your knees up to your chest.

"A lot has happened to you in just the past year, so I know you have all these emotions and feelings and words just waiting to pour out of you... but you have to let it," he whispered.

"And let's say I do, what if I don't end up liking what I have to say and it makes me even more... upset," you whispered.

"Maybe it will, maybe it won't, but holding all of that inside like you are now, isn't working out either," he said.