Cannes | H.S

Evergreen

Layla

There are moments in our lives that must always be cherished and enjoyed to the fullest. There are moments that we will one day look back on fondly, remembering the sweet and adoring sensation it brought our hearts and souls. This night will forever be one of those dear moments. He holds me tightly in his arms as we sit on the sofa, watching the frosty city from the highest floor of the building. Sugar is fast, fast asleep as she must be exhausted from such travels. The man before me wipes away my tears, replacing each one with a promising kiss filled with hope and happiness.

"Shh, shh. It's alright baby, you're alright. No more tears, please."

"I'm sorry, I must look like an absolute idiot. You've been here ten minutes and all I've done..."

"I don't mind. Believe me. I've had four weeks worth of tears. Ask anyone."

He makes a silly face, desiring for a sound of my laughter. Eventually, after a few tries, he's rendered successful. "I love you Harry Styles. Surprises and all."

"Felt like a grand romantic gesture was needed."

"Is that so?"

"Very much." He holds me for a little bit longer, sighing before standing up to his feet. Sugar is unbothered and lost in a sea of dreams. I raise a brow at the world famous musician who remains before me, offering a genuine hand. "Night isn't over yet."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Let's go see your favorite city. You and me."

"No, you should rest. You must be exhausted."

He cups my face with both hands, resting his forehead on my own, allowing me to gain full view of evergreen pools of hope. "I hate seeing you cry, need to put a smile on your face."

"But..."

"Nope, just move yours and get dressed." He ushers me off into the proper direction as I decide to simply give in instead of arguing back and forth. I use a few minutes, changing into comfortable and casual attire that will surely keep me warm in this frosty weather. I apply a smooth gloss to my lips and brush my waves out before grabbing hold of my coat. When I enter the living room, he approaches me, eyes falling and memorizing me from head to toe. Slowly, that hesitation transforms into an awe filled grin. "You cut your hair," he states, twirling a lock between his fingertips.

"I was going to surprise you, but you beat me to it. Do you like it?"

"Love it. You look even more gorgeous if possible."

We leave a bowl of water and some treats out for Sugar in case she awakens and we're not present. We walk hand in hand as we step out of the elevator and into the main lobby of my building. Frank, the doorman, greets me humbly and cheerfully as he takes sight of the two of us.

"Persistent fellow you have over here Layla," he says.

"Did he make you listen to any new jokes?"

"I'll have you know, Frank enjoyed all eight of them," Harry defensively mocks, locking an arm around my shoulders as we say our temporary goodbyes and walk into a cold December night.

A car is already awaiting our arrival, seating Harry's bodyguard who goes by the name of Brandon. We greet each other before taking off into the modestly packed streets of the city. What I love most about New York is that it's truly a city that never sleeps. It's almost midnight and nobody appears to have any intentions of slumber. I watch the glistening lights from afar, resting my head on Harry's shoulder as we listen to carols flow over through the radio.