Fingerprints

Five- POV Johanna

I rolled over and groaned to the sound of my phone alarm going off. It was only 10 in the morning, but I hadn't set my alarm. I thought it was Jaycee playing a trick. She made my phone go off at 2 AM before. But, I took my phone off the charger, and read the alarm message that was displayed. 

"Wake up, baby! -H"

        I smiled slightly, knowing it was Harry now, but was also so confused. Why should I wake up? I thought. I dangled my feet over my bed and put my hair up into a messy bun with the hair tie I had slept with on my wrist. I opened my door to go downstairs and there was a medium sized, gold, striped bag with black tissue paper coming out of it- my favorite colors. I looked out my door, down the hall to see who could have put the bag there, but there was no one in sight; not Jaycee, or my dad. I picked up the bag, and closed my door. After I set the bag on my bed, I quietly took out the tissue paper. Inside, was a beautiful outfit. There was a snow white, cropped sweater, a soft black skirt, and a maroon knit scarf. Gosh, I said to myself. I saw a small golden envelope at the bottom of the bag with Johanna on the front, in Harry's handwriting, written in black sharpie. I tried to hide the huge smile on my face by biting my bottom lip, and opened the shiny envelope. 

I'd love to see you in this at 11am at the Melrose Theater. -Harry

        Under the envelope was a pair of thin black tights with hearts at the top of them. I was so excited; I showered and put the outfit on right away. I remember being shocked at how good Harry was at fashion. I checked my phone for the time, and it was 10:30. I blow dried my hair quickly, and made my way out the door to my car. On my car door was another written note taped to my window in the same handwriting.

left, all the way down the hall, make a right.

        When I got there, I parallel parked, and went right inside. Following the directions that were on the note on my car, I turned left in the lobby and walked down the long hall, my boots clacking on the marble floor. I was anxious meeting Harry. Walking down the hallway, I built up so much excitement to see him, even though I'd seen him a billion and one times before. At that moment, I realized what love was; having someone still giving you butterflies after that long, without even trying. Before I made the right turn, I stopped, making sure my outfit was as good on me as Harry wanted it to. I smoothed my hair out, and pictured Harry in my mind how I thought he would look. Half unbuttoned dark shirt. Expensive golden boots. Ragged, shiny hair. When I turned the corner, I put my closed fingers over my lips. I caught a glimpse of the bright red rose behind his back, but as soon as he heard the clack of my black boots, he turned around, eyebrows raised. My heart felt like it leaped out of my chest for him. He looked so good it was hard to even catch my breath. His hair was slightly slicked back, but still loose, and voluminous. The tuxedo he had on looked like it was made for him, defining his strong shoulders and thin waist. He looked me up and down, and slightly licked the very corner of his upper lip. He almost looked like he couldn't control himself.

        "Damn, Jo," he mumbled. Nicknames. Harry had only used that name when we were intimate. 

        "Harry," I let out an audible breath, "you look.." I trailed off, looking into his emerald eyes as he stepped closer to me. His hands met my waist, and he pulled me close. 

        "You're so gorgeous in that." He said, letting his accent flow through the words. He laid a light, but lengthy kiss on my lips, and offered me the rose from behind his back, twirling it in his hand slightly.

        "Be my date to this lovely musi-cal?" He asked, his tone changing from seductive to innocent.

        "Yes," I smiled, and took the rose. Attached to the rose was a Playbill, with a picture of the musical cast on it. He had planned for us to see "Beauty and the Beast". We kissed once more, and he lead me into the auditorium to find our center seats to watch the beautiful show.

        At the end of the show it was just about 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Harry had a 4:45pm flight; right after the show. I had driven him back to his house. Watching him gather his bags was one of the hardest things to watch. We didn't say anything, he just looked over at me once in a while, with a painfully sad gaze. Once his Michael Kors brand bags were all packed, he stepped outside, and put his things in the trunk of my car. I stood beside him in that moment, arms crossed, until he looked over to me, squinting at the sun. "Let's go,"  he said simply.

        "Last call for flight twenty-three twelve to Charlotte, North Carolina" He set his bags down near the entrance of the third terminal of the JFK airport as Diesel, Reggie, and the rest of the band waited for him. As soon as the announcement was made for his flight, it was like a timer started. A timer that threatened our last face-to-face conversation for a little over a month. Harry grabbed me after the announcement, and held my head in his arms, playing with strands of hair behind my back.

        "I already miss you, Johanna, and I haven't even said goodbye," he said in a blatant, pained tone.

        "I love you, Harry," I said in a slightly higher pitched voice, trying so hard not to cry in front of him. I let go, and he held my arms still, looking down. 

        "I love you so fucking much, Hanna." He looked up slightly to me, with his eyes and head. I've never seen Harry shed a tear, nor have I seen any man, but I could see water building up around the corners of his eyes. His eyes were brighter, the color being intensified by his tears. My heart sank, and I instantly began mirroring his emotions, my vision getting fuzzy, and wet with tears. I put my arms over his head, and we embraced once more, only tighter this time. Neither of us wanted to let go, but one of his bandmates called over, to interrupt. We both let out a sigh and accepted, it was time to let go. He wiped his eyes on my shirt, let out a soft "goodbye", and gave me one last kiss. The kiss lingered, seeming to last forever, even under the pressure of the imaginary timer, that was just about to go off. And, he walked away. Seeing his tears for me, was emotionally crippling, but flattering; hearing his voice was uplifting, but heart-wrenching, knowing I wouldn't hear it again for a while; his goodbye was painful to hear, but left me impatient, waiting to hear his next hello.