A Collection of Imagines

Harry

This imagine is separated by time.

Jamaica

At first, I didn't know what to expect from a vacation with Harry to Jamaica. He told me he needed me to be there for inspiration within the 3 months he was going to seek creative asylum in this tropical climate. He showed up to my apartment at 3 o'clock in the morning to pitch me this idea. I told him I could only stay with him for a least 3 weeks. He didn't care how long I was going to be with him, he just wanted me to be there with him. I don't know why I'm doubting this excursion with him. He obviously wants me here. I lean into him as the van shakes due to the rocky road underneath its tires. My back presses against his shoulder as he snakes his arm over my chest, resting his hand on my lap. I don't really know what to say about this moment other than I feel nostalgic right now. I know that this is my first time going away with him, but I can't help but think that we're on the run from something. Well, in a sense, we are. We're running from his name. His wealth. His fame. I know he hates it when I call it that, but it's the complete and honest truth. He's famous and he wants to go somewhere no one knows his name.

We decided to go for a swim. It's been a few hours since we arrived and I can tell she's anxious. I am as well. I was surprised that she said yes to coming with me. I really don't give a fuck that she can't stay long. I'm just glad she can stay. The water is literally 10 feet away from the back door of our rented beach house. We all go out of the house. Me, her and the rest of my musical staff grab paddle boards and walk briskly towards the water. She's the first to jump in. She dives in. Her feet are the last thing to enter the warm water. I run in after her. Laughing as she re-enters the surface. Once she makes eye contact with me, my mind goes to a perverted place. She looks hot wet. The way the water dripped off of her made me gulp loudly. Dammit, I can't help myself. She splashes me, pulling me from my dirty thoughts. She laughs harder at my shocked expression. She turns and swims farther out. I join her in deep water. Clear enough to see the bottom. We both take deep breaths to dip under the water together. We swim down to the bottom. Her hair creates a sort of halo around her head. God, she's so beautiful she even looks hot under water.

I grab a pair of googles from Mitch and decided to go on a little exploration of my own. Harry was too busy talking to his staff about their previous session, so I took the liberty of relaxing myself.  I scale the bottom of the ocean, spotting various types of fish and other species. I found a crab that was climbing a piece of coral. It made me wish I stole Harry's GoPro. As I rose to the surface for another breath of fresh tropical air, I couldn't help but compare that crab to a lobster. I know they're not the same, but my train of thought drove me to Phoebe from Friends' definition of lobsters. How they find each other and mate for life. "He's your lobster," she said, trying to convince Ross to be with Rachel. As I make it up to the surface, I search for his face. He's not facing me, still talking to his drummer. He has his arms draped over a paddle board, keeping himself afloat. I hope he thinks of me as his lobster because I would call him mine. I dive back into the water, swimming towards the bottom. I spot his tattooed lower body above and I let my body float up to him. My eyes trailing every inch of his body as I go up. I make it up to the surface to find him enjoying the view in front of him. I mimic his position and place my arms onto the board. The dip of the paddle board directs his attention. He smiles once he sees me. He brings his hand to rest on top of mine. I smile as I stare at his blissful expression. He places his head on the board. He's so cute when he's happy.