talking to the moon//h.s.

02

i've been sitting awake for a few hours now, not speaking at all.

i've been thinking a lot though, possibly too much. it's not like i'm thinking of a lot of different things, i'm thinking of one thing in deep detail.

i would whisper to myself like i normally do, but i've been scared of my soulmate hearing me and wondering why i'm ignoring them.

it's not that it wouldn't be awesome for harry to be my soulmate; i just don't want to deal with the media.

the girls that he's been with in the past have had to deal with so much, that i can only imagine how it would be if i were his soulmate.

my mental health would not get any better and i'm already at my lowest so that's not the best idea.

"hello?" i finally talk, my voice soft in case they aren't expecting it.

i don't want to startle him and make him think i've been thinking about him. well, i have, but that's not the point.

"hi." the voice is raspy, as if i woke them up. i shake off the thoughts before asking my first question.

"are you a singer?" i ask, afraid of how the voice might respond. it's a lame question but it's just an icebreaker before we dive in.

it leads room for assumption so he doesn't think i've been overthinking since i woke up. i woke up with a headache so i don't doubt i was overthinking in my sleep.

is that possible?

they take a while before responding, maybe i offended them. oh no what if i offended harry styles. that man's ego is bigger than my expectations but it takes one thing to hurt even the most confident person.

was my question offensive? what if his family was killed by a singer? what if he used to be a mongolian throat singer but he had to give up on his dreams because he got botched throat surgery.

is that even a thing? what's a mongolian throat singer? what would that even sound like? how much do they get paid?

that would be a cool career. just going around singing with your throat. wait, isn't that what you do when you sing anyways?

"yeah...why?" the voice finally responds, calming my nerves. i feel relief wash over my body.

okay so i didn't offend him. that's good. he's also a singer. should i ask him about mongolian throat singing? no.

"thank you. just wait." i smile, leaving the voice on edge but still being polite.

i know, i know, hold the applause. no pictures, please. you can go ahead and call me a good person though.

•••

"were you once in a boyband?" i ask since its been a few hours since i last talked to the voice and i need a distraction.

well what if it wasn't a boy band? what if there was a girl in it? or what if he likes the term 'man band?'

that would be awkward. i would just remove my brain if that was what happens to be the case.

i'll be fine. i embarrass myself all the time. well it's one thing to embarrass yourself in front of someone because you can just walk away.

he's my soulmate. i'm stuck with him. oh no, what if i end up hating him?

"yeah." it's simple, but the answer brings me an odd sense of comfort.

not like the comfort that you get when you realize your mom's new boyfriend isn't a pervert. it's like the feeling you get on christmas eve, you're nervous but excited and you just feel happy.