sunflower/ hes

prologue

He crosses his arms, watching as I run the cigarette under the sink before cutting it in two and throwing it in the garbage. If I don't, he'll just fish it out when I go to bed.

Not like he doesn't have a whole pack stuffed under his bed. It's a nasty habit he picks up when he's stressed or nervous and I've been trying to break him from it.

I hate the smell of cigarette smoke.

"You're definitely not my favorite person today." He pouts, slinking down into the couch.

"I'm not your favorite person any day. You hate me, remember? Two weeks and you'll be gone though." His face softens as he watches me clean the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counter.

There's something about the way he looks at me that makes me feel as though he doesn't hate me at all, but I still love to pretend we're the same people we were when we met a month ago. The way his eyebrows relax and the frown lines disappear as his eyes follow my body makes me feel like I hung the stars.

He looks absolutely mesmerized, transfixed on my movements as I am on him most of the time I spend in his presence.

I bring my eyes up too soon, catching his gaze. He holds my eyes for a few seconds before awkwardly dropping his head, letting out a strangled cough. The frown lines reappear and he's back hiding behind the walls he's built up.

I wish we could go back to last night, when he spun me around the kitchen, humming a tune I had never heard. That moment was so bitter sweet, watching his smile widen as I tripped over his feet, him coaxing me to just stand on the end of his boots where he could lead me. The way he buried his head in my hair, pressing a kiss to hairline as he breathed out a laugh.

Then the realization that this was quite possibly the only time I would ever see him like this. That his guard was down for once and when the song in his head was over it would go straight back up, leaving me in the wake of what could be if he just let it drop for good.

"I actually leave tomorrow." His voice breaks me from my thoughts, like he knew I was dreading it, "Jeff said something about Malibu. Gonna try to write some."

I don't say anything, just nodding my head as I straighten up the living room.

"Uhm, thank you for letting me stay here."

"Oh no problem. You've been a dream of a houseguest." I move to stand behind the couch in the opening of the hallway. He leans up, placing his forearms on his knees and spinning the rings on his fingers.

"I think I'm gonna turn in, I'll drive you to the airport in the morning." He nods, turning his head to the side to see me out of the corner of his eye.

"Alright. Goodnight."

A murmured goodnight escapes my lips as I back down the hallway to my room. As soon as I'm alone my emotions get the better of me, a few tears slipping down my cheeks as I think of how empty it will sound with him not around.

The constant humming or singing, the banging of cabinets at six am when he's making coffee, the knocking on my door when he can't figure out the coffee maker.

The thought of going back to a quiet house doesn't feel like I thought it would.

Then again, that was before I thought I had feelings for him. Back when I thought he was staying here so I could help a friend help her friend, when we didn't get along for shit.

Back before I was 'sun' or 'sunflower,' when I was just Alex.

Now everything has changed, not all at once but slowly in little moments over the course of this month.

Like how he makes me a cup of coffee every morning, leaving it on the counter while he's out for a run. Or how he waits for me to get home, turning on our show and throwing me a blanket before shifting me over after I've sat in his spot. In the moments where he wakes me after I fall asleep on the couch, picking me up and carrying me to my bed. The way his eyes all but disappear when he finds something "so fucking funny."

Holy shit. I'm in love with him.

I'm pacing the floor wondering what to possibly do about the feelings that I've somehow managed to catch without trying at all. Do I tell him? Or do I let it go? I mean it might not even be love it might just be the fact that I don't want to be alone.

For fucks sake, Alexandra. He is a global superstar.

This is some shi-

"Alex." He busts through my door, freezing at the sight of me. It's a good five minutes before he speaks again.

"If I left without doing this, I would hate myself forever." The words fall from his mouth rushed, which is a strange thing to behold. Smooth, slow talking Harry rushing something to the point where the words are rough and jagged.

In the second that I am thinking about the sound of his words, he's standing in front of me. Hands reaching up to cup my face as his lips ghost over mine.

"Is this okay?" This man and his consent.

I slowly nod my head, breath hitching in my throat as I wait for him to move forward. He doesn't, just stands there looking.

"I... i just want to remember. Just one more second, sunflower." His eyes trace over every inch of my face, thumbs rubbing along my jawline before he leans down and brushes his nose to mine.

The moment his lips touch mine a fire is ignited, one that I'm sure will be hell to put out. It's almost like I can see us standing there, molding against one another in a kiss so feverish and needy not even God could break us apart.

Like everything we never admitted was being said through our actions.

For a second I remember that he's leaving, but I push the thought away as quick as it comes, moving my body backwards and toward the bed. His lips feel the slightest bit rough against mine, tasting of cigarette smoke and mint.

He feels us reach the bed, breaking the kiss to look at me. Panting and already sweaty, he's never looked better.

"Are you sure?" It's almost a whisper, so quiet  it could get lost in the sounds coming from our uncontrollable breathing.

"As I've ever been." He lays me down, smiling at me as he kisses me again, hands roaming freely over my body. A relived sigh escapes my lips as he brings his back up from my neck. In the morning I know I may regret letting him leave, but I know I will never regret the way this feels.

Next month this may only be a New York memory resurfacing in a coffee shop in LA, but right now in this moment, it is everything for the both of us.