A Collection of Imagines

Harry

I want to write you a song

I place my phone into my cup holder beside me. My hands go to the steering wheel and I take a deep breath. I know I've only been dating this guy for a couple months, but every time I talk to him, he still gives me butterflies. I smile brightly at the thought of him in my apartment waiting for me like he said he would. It just gives me a warm feeling in my chest to think about him waiting for me when I come home after my classes. It's just hopeful.

She texts me the ok, as well as where the extra key is hidden. I lift the welcome mat up and grab the key from under it. I push it into the lock and open the door. I've been in her apartment before, but only the bedroom if you know what I mean. I haven't really examined, say, her living room and kitchen. It was the first thing I saw when I walked in. I look towards the kitchen counter and find her mail on top of it. Holy shit! She still has a land line. The telephone is screwed onto the wall that separates the living room and the kitchen. The thing is large and made of this light pink plastic material. I laugh at her old fashioned taste.

I take the quickest way from uni to my apartment, practically running every red light. I can't help it. This guy makes me do the craziest things. Ever since that night I met him at that pub all those months ago. I finally make it into my parking garage and of course, most of the spaces are full. This is going to take a while.

I walk into the living room to find the normal things that people have within their homes like a television, coffee table, sofa. But the thing that made this place hers was the record player on a stool in a corner and the multiple picture of her and her friends on two shelves that stand on either side of the tv. I walk up to one of the shelves and take a closer look at the photos. All of them seem to be just her and her friends. She doesn't have any photos of someone who would like her dad, mum, or siblings. Wow, I mean she told me she didn't have a great relationship with her family, but I didn't think it was this intense. I walk over to her record player and find a few albums that I like as well. Stevie Wonder, David Bowie, Rival Sons, The Beatles, Pink Floyd. All the greats. That's why I like her.

I finally find a parking spot, but it seems like a mile way from my apartment. I really hope he's still there. I know that he said he was and he's only been waiting for like ten minutes. I'm just ... rambling. I ramble when I'm nervous.

I look to my left to find that one of the walls of the living room connects to the balcony through sliding glass doors. I pier through the glass to see that she has two swimming pool lounge chairs on her balcony. Like the long ones with the plastic stripes across the tubed frame. I laugh out loud at them. The balcony is long enough to hold two of those on either side of a small glass table. In front of the table, leaning against the metal barrier is an acoustic guitar. I didn't know she played. I move to open the glass door, sliding it to the side. I grab the guitar off of the barrier and sit down on one of the chairs with my back towards the rest of the apartment. I start strumming and I find that it's already been tuned. She's played it recently.

I finally make it to my front door and I slide my key in, hoping to God that he's still there. I open the door and I have a clear view of him strumming my guitar on my balcony. The picture made me stop everything. I love it. Him, on my balcony in a plain white tee and black skinny jeans with black nail polish at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. The first thing I see when I walk in. I walk closer and place my bag on the counter. I step closer and I hear him strumming some melody. I move towards the sliding glass doors with his back still facing me. He hums along with the tune that he plays and I make a move towards him. As he sits at the edge of the chair, I move to the top of the chair and swing my legs around his.

I feel something slide behind me and her arms wrap around my shoulders. I sigh into her and I feel her lips on my cheek. My hand goes up to hers and my smile brightens. I can feel her smile grow against my cheek and I tilt my head till the side of it hits her forehead. I look out into the New York city-scape. Why can't it be like this all the time?

I stare into the side of his head, taking in his scent. The scent that I had longed to smell all day. Everything about him is so intoxicating. "Play something."

I move back to see her face. Something I have desperately wanted to see all day. "It's funny actually. I wrote you one." Her eyes light up.

"Well, let's hear it." He looks down at the guitar and takes a deep breath. He's nervous. That's fucking cute. He exhales and then begins.

"I want to write you a song

One that's beautiful as you are sweet

With just a hint of pain

For the feeling that I get when you are gone

I want to write you a song"

I smile so wide as he expresses his pain for me. His raspy voice goes well with the lightness of the lyrics that he created. I love the song and I haven't even heard the chorus.

"I want to lend you my coat

One that's as soft as your cheek

So when the world is cold

You'll have a hiding place you can go

I want to lend you my coat"

I feel my insides liquefying the longer he sings. My mouth goes to his shoulder, lightly biting down onto it, which prompts a small chuckle from him while he sings. How did I deserve this man?

"Everything I need I get from you

Givin' back is all I wanna do"

I smile into his shoulder, wider than I think I ever have. This man is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I hope that he knows that.

"I want to build you a boat

One that's strong as you are free

So any time you think that your heart is gonna sink

You know it won't

I want to build you a boat"

He laughs once he sings the word "boat" and I laugh along with him. The gesture is so fucking cheesy and romantic that I can feel myself blushing against him.

"Everything I need I get from you

Givin' back is all I wanna do

Everything I need I get from you

Givin' back is all I wanna do"

My eyes start to tear up when I realize that he cares for me as much as I do for him. I love him. Oh my god. I love this man that wrote me a beautiful song about wanting to build a boat for me. How have I not realized this before?

"I want to write you a song

One to make your heart remember me

So any time I'm gone

You can listen to my voice and sing along

I want to write you a song"

He turns to look at me. Eyes colliding with mine. A tear runs down my face. He continues to strum the guitar to end the song with the gorgeous melody and his eyes wander mine. Looking to see why I was crying. But when I smile, his gaze softens.

"I want to write you a song" I love her. ... I love her. ... I love her.