Let's Hurt Tonight

46

Amelia

Harry's house in London is just as amazing as his house in California, if not more so. It's modern like his other home but it has more of a Gregorian feel to it. The architecture is stunning and it's something I could rarely find in America. 

"I bought this place in 2012," Harry tells me, showing me around. 

We walk through several rooms, each better than the last. 

His kitchen is filled with white marble counter tops and floors and various pieces of art decorate the other rooms. It's also well furnished, making me want to nestle up in every room we see. I can tell most of his renovations and decorations are expensive, but overall the house has a very homey feel to it which I like. 

"It was named my 'party palace' for a little while," Harry continues, laughing slightly. "I've had a lot of good memories here...Maybe later I'll show you around the garden. It's a little barren now but come another month or two and the flowers will have bloomed..."

"It's beautiful," I tell Harry in a quiet voice, my eyes wandering all around. I can't even focus on just one thing because it's all amazing. 

I follow Harry up his pink stairs and he briefly shows me around on the second and third floor. There are five bedrooms in total but we both silently assume that I'll just be staying with him so he just briefly goes by the other rooms on our way to his. 

Harry's room is obviously the master bedroom in the house. It's larger than his one in California - maybe double the size. A huge bed rests against the wall to our right, a television mounted to the wall opposite it. There's also a small fireplace in the far corner of the room with two chairs and a table by it, making it the perfect sitting area. 

"I thought we could unpack tomorrow? I figured we'd want to eat and sleep first, then we can focus on unpacking everything," Harry says, putting our luggages at the foot of the bed. 

I sit down on the bed and place my bag on the floor. I'm exhausted and I'll admit, I'm still a little upset from our conversation, or lack thereof, from the car ride here. I'm sure it's just me being tired but I still can't shake the feeling in me and it's bothering me. 

"Amelia?" Harry asks. He looks over at me and when I don't answer, he sits besides me and places a hand on the small of my back. "What's wrong, love?" 

I look over at him. His eyes are dark from concern and his forehead creases. I guess he really doesn't know and I'm not sure if that's better or worse.

"I'm just thinking," I reply slowly. 

"What about?" he asks me gently. 

I rub my lips together as I think of the correct wording. I don't want to talk about it, honestly, but I also don't want to let it just sit and fester. 

"I - I've just never been bombarded like that with the paparazzi and fans. I know we've had our encounters previously but...not like that," I explain, thinking back to the security we needed to have to protect us from the pushy paps. "I don't mind, really, but I kept thinking how alone I felt because I kept wanting to grab your hand because...well you make me feel safe. But we never had a talk about what we do and don't do in public and after I mentioned it in the car, it got in my head when you didn't respond," I sigh. I can feel my emotions starting to get the best of me right now and I'm desperate to stop it. "I'm just exhausted though so maybe it's that..."

Harry sighs and rubs my back, slightly comforting me. With his other hand, he reaches across his lap and takes one of my hands in his. 

"Public affection in front of the paparazzi isn't something I like to do anymore," Harry explains, slowly, which I understand.