sunflower/ hes

six

The idea of Harry leaving me alone in his mansion made me more uncomfortable than the idea of the awkward interactions I'd have to endure if he had stayed. Shortly after I bumped into him in the hallway he knocked on my door, saying he was going out to see his sister before he left again for tour.

I did get an invitation though, but politely declined from inside the safety of the guest room. I never met his sister, and I'm sure he didn't tell her about the fling we had years ago, but just incase he did I would rather not sit face to face with her. I would never be able to live it down. So I did stay in the giant place alone, even if it was uncomfortable.

Normally I enjoyed my own company, being able to entertain myself was one of the reasons I barely interacted with people in the first place. But right now, I'm bored. Like not just bored, but the kind of bored that makes you bang your head on walls just for something to do.

This ultimately aided in my decision to explore the place Harry calls home. Chateau de Harry, as he called it. I mean come on, when else am I going to get to roam the halls of a millionaires mansion with no company?

The house- mansion- was four stories, stretching across for ages. In reality, it wasn't ages, only like two times the width of a normal house, which is still pretty big.

I was staying in a guest suite on the second floor, from what I understood when he explained it to me earlier, this floor was all guest suites- and after further investigation by yours truly i figured out there were five in total. Three of the five, including mine, having en suites and a regular bath down the hall for the lonely two to share.

When I finish on my floor, I don't bother going down, he showed me the majority of it when I arrived. Parading me around every room, pointing out every expensive piece of artwork on the walls and the grand piano sitting in the middle of a giant room. He wasn't boasting, just looking for my approval of the material things he had to show for a successful career. So I find my way up the stairs, stopping on floor three to nosey my way around.

I know technically it's wrong to snoop around people's houses, but he did say 'make yourself at home' and I am nosey with my own things so.... I have permission right?

This floor must be used for storage, all I could find going from room to room were cardboard boxes neatly stacked near the walls, an occasional desk centered in an empty room. So I continue up to the last floor.

The first door I open is an office, one that looks very much used. A heavy oak desk sits in the middle of the room, laptop open and sitting on scattered papers, bookcases lining the walls along the sides of the room. On the far wall behind the desk are framed albums, a few from one direction and his solo albums. Awards sit neatly on a dark shelf built right into the wall.

Closing the door, I work my way around a bathroom, a studio complete with mics and padding on the walls, another storage room. The next door opens into a bedroom, the disheveled comforter and boots thrown carelessly in the floor tell me it's Harry's.

I'm quick to close the door, feeling like if I look into the room any longer I'll invade his privacy. So I just make my way around peeping into room after room, seeing nothing of certain interest.

It's really everything I expected. A room  with rows of guitars lining the wall and other instruments sitting on shelves, the next with a lone baby grand piano facing a curtained window. I don't even want to think about how much the piano cost, let alone how he got it up four flights of stairs. It's a baby grand, but they're still heavy as hell. Why someone would need two pianos that expensive is beyond me, even if he is a musician for a living.

Reaching the end of the long hallway, I turn the knob on the last door. It opens up with a bright artificial lights hitting me, taking me a minute to adjust to the sudden change in lighting, contrast from slinking through the dark hallway to a flood of lights hurts my eyes. But once I focus, I see it for what it is- a bathroom, literally. Like this room was made for spa treatments and relaxation.