Behind The Marriage

Iceland Part 8

You sighed as you rolled over in bed, feeling the cool air caress your naked body poking out from under the white, wrinkled bedsheets. You ran your arms over the space that should have been consumed by your husband, but you instantly realized he wasn't there. It was then you heard it, the soft strums of a guitar and a barely audible hum coming from somewhere in the background.

You pushed yourself up to a sitting position the bed before placing your feet on the cool hardwood flooring of your suite. You stood up, wrapping the sheet around you, bunching it around your chest as you held it up, and walked in search of the noise you had woken up to. Luckily, the noise had gotten louder the closer you approached it, so you knew where to go.

As soon as you walked upon your husband, sitting just outside the room, strumming his guitar with a guitar in his hands, his worn, brown, leather journal opened to a half-blank page, and a small mug of filled with what you assumed to either be coffee or English Breakfast Tea, depending on his mood of the morning. You smiled listening to him as he worked on a new song or at least a song that was new to you.

Harry always had songs whether it be lyrics or melodies playing in his head, so he always said the songs he worked on weren't new, they were just finally getting their moment of attention. You waited until he stopped to take another sip from his mug before interrupting him. Not only did you wait because you didn't want to be rude or mess him up when he was in the zone, but also because you loved watching him at work.

You loved the faces he made as he thought about lyrics, especially if he was having an issue with one, he'd made this cute little-annoyed scrunchy face. Or the note he wanted to hit within the song, just wasn't sounding right with the melody he'd be a little frustrating. It was these little quirks you noticed back in Jamaica, the first time around when you were shooting him making his first album.

Although, it seemed as though with that album, he was much more on edge and wanting to make all the songs and the album itself perfect. But it could have easily been because the first solo album after One Direction was the one to set his tone as a solo artist and would either make or break him within the business.

When you decided to finally to approach him, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek from the side.

"Whatever you're working on, sounds beautiful," you smiled. "I can't wait to hear the whole thing."

"If you get to hear it," he smirked.

"As your wife, I feel like that's a given," you laughed.

"We'll see," he joked.

You rolled your eyes, "Anyway, I'm glad to see that you working on a song was the reason for me waking up alone in bed without my husband," you said.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said putting the guitar down, leaning it against the chair beside him. "I woke up about an hour ago and I just couldn't go back to sleep until I got the song down on paper."

He pulled you around so that you could sit on his lap.

"What's the song about?" you asked, your fingers finding their way to the chains hanging around his neck.

Harry was only wearing some track pants he had slipped on, which you were quite shocked at the fact he was shirtless because as soon as the wind picked up, goosebumps covered your skin.

"You," he smiled pressing his forehead against yours.

"Oh, so then I really will be hearing this song when it's finished," you laughed.

He laughed holding you close to him, "Are you hungry? I can order us some breakfast. I believe they still serve it for at least another hour."

"Hm, breakfast sounds really good right," you nodded.