Murphy's Law ✔️

Chapter Twenty One.

"Uh- Babe? Run that chorus one more time, would you?"

"God, I don't think I like you bossing me around as much as I thought I would."

Harry rolled his eyes, but not without a smirk on his lips and a shake of his head. He pressed the button to run the soft, acoustic track back and watched as his girlfriend sang with shut eyes softly into a microphone. She had been at it for four hours now, and since he knew Murphy, he expected her to get cranky by the two hour mark. She made it two and a half hours before acting as if someone had set her throat on fire and was holding a gun to her head to keep singing.

Harry had persuaded his label to allow Murphy to record a few tracks in one of the amateur studios to get started on her EP. This day was day one of recording, and Harry was maybe enjoying it a little too much.

You see, Harry had absolutely hated work for years. It was exhausting going in and being completely ridiculed about every move he made by every shitty artist he worked under, every single day. And so, given the opportunity to have his very own girlfriend as his client had Harry struggling to keep a grin off of his face.

She was doing wonderfully for someone who'd never had an opportunity to practice in a studio, and Harry was actually pleasantly surprised. Of course, it didn't hurt that he got to sit and stare at the most beautiful person he'd ever met in his life, but Harry realized then that she was one of the best clients he'd ever had in his studio.

She hit every note flawlessly, and even when her voice got raspy when strained, he'd play it back and his lips would curl up in realization that it actually sounded better when it strained. She had an affinity for putting emotions into her songs and Harry, of course, was simply blown away.

"How was that?" She asked, albeit breathlessly. Harry grinned and gave her a thumbs up, pressing down on the button that allowed his voice to project into the studio.

"Bloody amazing, Murph."

"Are you sure you're not just saying that? You really mean it?" She asked with a frown. He rolled his eyes.

"I mean it, babe, believe me. Come out here, would you?"

She took the headphones off and hung them on the stand before making her way through the door and towards the panel. Harry patted his lap and she complied, turning and sitting herself across his legs, looking up at him.

With a smile, he reached up and tucked a strand of her unruly hair behind her ear. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bloodshot. It was a long day for her- she'd worked eight hours on a hangover over at the cafe and then made her way to the studio immediately after. It showed on her face for sure, but Harry still couldn't believe how beautiful she looked.

"You want to hear it played back?" He asked. She nodded and he wrapped an arm around her back, using his free hand to press the playback button.

The room filled with a haunting melody of synths, and then an echoing drum followed it, along with the falsetto of Murphy's voice singing the lyrics to a song she wrote weeks prior, called 'Take You to Heaven'. With a blush on her cheeks, she handed Harry her journal and told him she had an idea and asked him to read the lyrics. He did so with an eyebrow raised and a growing smirk on his face, reading about a haunted girl who fell for a man who felt like autumn and how she never wanted to be without him. Her face only turned a deeper shade of crimson when he asked who it was about before she took the journal back and thumped him on the top of the head with it.

Murphy shut her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose- she never heard herself over a track and almost felt as though she still wasn't. A vision she had in her head for weeks was finally in front of her, playing surround sound as Harry cradled her, and it took her a few moments to realize that what she was listening to was her.