Falling | h.s

nine

JANIE'S POV

"What the hell is going on?!" I exclaim, looking back and forth between Bella and Harry, both who were grinning wide. 

"Todd gave him my number and we set this up," Bella explains with an evil grin. The explanation doesn't do much for me as I continue to look between them with shock. Emma and Zoey are whispering excitedly. 

"Did you two know about this?" I point a finger at them as they raise their hands defensively. 

"I had no idea but wow am I happy," Emma confesses and Zoey nods in agreement. 

"Yeah this is the highlight of my year," Zoey adds. "Nice work, Bella. Hi, Harry!" She waves unnecessarily at him and he grins back at her. 

"I-I don't, I'm just confused, and I–" I look between all of them again, fumbling over my words. 

"I just had to see you again," He says, pulling my attention to him. I look up at him, his green eyes staring directly into mine. My heart flutters at this and I blush, his smile growing. I point to my ear, showing him that I'm having trouble hearing here. He nods, understanding. 

"It's too loud to talk here," Bella shouts over the music. "Maybe you two should go somewhere quieter to talk." She winks at me and I hold back a laugh. Classic Bella.

"Will you come with me?" Harry asks.

"Where?"

"It's a surprise," he responds with a glint in his eye. 

I hesitate for a moment, thinking over the decision. This is too crazy. This kind of thing just doesn't happen. What if he's expecting something from me that I can't give him? Then, knowing me better than I know myself, Emma whispers in my ear: "Stop overthinking and fucking go with him." I see Harry hold back a smile. I look to Zoey and Bella for confirmation that I should go. Both of them look at me with a What the fuck are you still doing here expression, and I take this as a cue to go.

"I'll text y'all," I say loudly and they all nod. I turn to Harry who has his hand extended to help me get through the pulsing crowd. I take it, hesitantly, and his cold rings making me shiver. With one look back at my friends, who were all grinning ear to ear, he leads me to God knows where. He pushes through the crowd, glaring at people who shove me until we finally exit the club. Once we make it to the sidewalk, he lets go of my hand and turns around to face me. 

"Hi," he laughs. 

"Hi," I join him, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. "So, care to explain why you are here?" 

"Like I said, I just had to see you again. I woke up and read my journal and I saw the song we wrote," he explains and I furrow my brows. 

"What song?" I ask, and he reaches into his back pocket, gripping a black leather-bound notebook. He flips through the pages until he finds one, covered in scribbles. 

"This song," he says. He hands me the small notebook and as I scan the page, it all comes back to me. 

"I wish I had written your song."

"Let's write it together!"

I read over the words and am in awe. It's good, really good. He was so talented, and I was amazed to see how he incorporated my lyrics in with his own. I read through the whole song, remembering how we tapped out the rhythm and brainstormed the instruments we would add at specific timings. 

After a few minutes, I finally tear my eyes up from the page to meet his expecting gaze. 

"This is a beautiful song. You did a really good job," I compliment him, thinking that's what he wanted. Instead, he looks at me with confusion. 

"No, you did a really good job. Or, I guess, we did, but that's not the point."

"This is your song," I shake my head in protest. handing him the book back. 

"No, it's our song, Janie. And I need your help." 

"With what?" 

"Finishing it," he grins and I shake my head once again. 

"Harry, I don't know. I don't do this," I say, not even knowing what I was referring to. I just knew that this was crazy. 

"Look," he says, tucking the book back into his tight jeans pocket. "I didn't mean to startle you or interrupt your girls' trip. I know how much this trip means to you. But I also couldn't just let you walk away without knowing how talented you are."

"You're being sweet but––"

"No buts. You're a songwriter, Janie, and a damn good one. I know you think you can't do this as a career but I promise you that you can. I'll make sure that you can." 

"Harry..." I shake my head, baffled at what he was saying. 

"Look, I've been in this industry for ten years. I've worked with the best of the best as well as the worst of the worst. I've been writing songs for years, and I have never been able to write as fast, and as well, as when I was writing with you. I need you." My heart flutters at his words. I've never been needed before, especially not for my writing. 

"You said it yourself, it's your dream to work on music and with musicians "like me," he grins as he uses air quotes to quote me from the night before. I blush, surprised he remembered such a detail. I shake my head, about to protest again, but he speaks again before I can. 

"Don't say no again. Just give me a chance, okay?" 

"How so?" I cross my arms over my body. This was insane. If this were any other guy, any other person, I would be filing for a restraining order right now. He practically stalked me. But, his intentions were pure. At least, I hope. And I can't even try and say that I don't want to see what he proposes. 

"One night. We go to the studio, right now, and record our song. You deserve to hear it how it's supposed to be heard." 

"I'll hear it on the radio when you release it," I say back. I can tell he's caught off guard by my continuous rejection but he recovers quickly. 

"You deserve to help me finish it, I mean. This is your song as much as it's mine. And besides, I can't do it justice without you. Your heart is just as in it," he says and I lift my eyes from the sidewalk to meet his gaze again. His eyes are full of hope and I feel my heart wretch. How can I say no to him? I barely know him but I do know I don't want to let him down. 

"Okay," I say finally and he lets out a relieved sigh. "One night." He nods and begins to walk down the street. 

"Where are you going?" I call after him and he turns around, now walking backward. 

"We only have a night! We have to make it count. C'mon," he replies and grins widely, a sight that makes my heart flutter again. And without him having to tell me twice, I follow him down the crowded sidewalk with a stomach full of butterflies.