Sycamore Tree // H.S. (HIATUS)

twenty-three

Harry Styles. World Tour. Europe. North America. South America. Asia. Australia.

Harry posted the tour announcement this morning. Two days after your graduation, so he most definitely knew about it when you've last seen him. But he never mentioned it to you - yes, he mentioned a possible tour often, but he never even once said it was all planned out. And apparently, he didn't see the need in telling you that he was going to go on tour in eight weeks before posting it on his social media. And now he's not picking up the phone.

"When you hear this, please come see me by the tree. I think we got something to talk about," you leave after the tone and hang up.

You're not mad, you are disappointed in him. Whichever one is worse. Your bubble popped, his job is now part of the relationship; fully part of it. After he hadn't called you back or texted you within an hour, you start cleaning. Your phone on your dining table occasionally vibrates, but it's just Rebecca first texting you about the announcement, then calling you and then Bethan doing the same.

Another hour passes and you have two unread texts from Franky.

You have no idea what the fuck Harry is doing, but as it seems he's doing it without his phone. Your cleaning reached your kitchen, and if you would've taken your phone with you, you would have seen the three missed calls from Harry. But you only see them about half an hour later.

By the tree in 5, sorry I was in a meeting. H

You turn your radio off, slip into some sneakers standing around in your hallway and rush down the stairs and towards the tree. He's already there, worry written all over his face when you slide through the bushes.

"World tour, huh?"

"I was gonna tell you," he says in defense.

"When? At the airport?" You know you're just provocative at this point, but you don't care. He hurt you and you want to let him know.

"Lucille, I...," he starts and sighs, "I'm sorry. You deserve better than finding out on social media. I messed up."

"Yes, you did. And you hurt me. I am your girlfriend. I should've been the first person to tell," you say much calmer now.

"I know," he says and opens his arm, "come here. Please."

You let him pull you into a hug, he puts his chin on your head.

"I was scared to tell you... I didn't know how." His voice is small and quiet, he sounds genuine. And you understand it, it's not easy telling your partner you're going to be away for a couple of months. Though he should be used to it. What you don't know, though, is that Harry forgets everything he's ever done before when it comes to you. With you, it all feels new.

"I'm scared as well," you say and close your eyes, you can feel tears rushing up to them. The entire situation is too much for you. You've never been away from him for longer than two weeks, and somehow you depend on him. You depended on him after meeting him back at the pub a couple of times, but this is a whole different level.

When they roll, you let them wet his shirt. He pulls you tighter, but stays silent. There's nothing he could say anyway. He's just as scared as you are, if not even more because he has seen what touring does to a relationship.
And he can't let that happen again.

...go on tour with him if you want to...

Pierre's words echo in your ear for the entire time you stand there under the moving leaves of the sycamore tree. When you pull away from the hug, Harry quickly wipes away a tear from the corner of his eye and clears his throat.