Labels || H.S. [#Wattys2020]

FORTY-ONE

"Huh," Harry said as he started loading grocery bags out of the back of his Range Rover. "This was a better idea than going all the way to Flintridge Proper."

"Yeah well, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to burn off the thousand or more calories you were about to down," She said grabbing a bag, only to have Harry take it from her grasp. She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway because even though she hated to admit it, she kind of loved the chivalrous side of him. No one had ever acted like that with her before, "And besides," She said, grabbing one of the lighter bags even though he made a displeased face, "it's a nice day, why not have a picnic on the beach."

Harry took in the view, the waves crashing upon the beautiful white sand and the sun shining down on them, and he felt incredibly at peace. He slid on his sunglasses and walked along the familiar trail that led to Louis' private beach. His hands were full of the bags, but he didn't mind at all. Reagan did the shopping herself, too paranoid to let Harry out of the car, so he figured the least he could do was carry the bags to where they intended to sit and eat.

It surprised Harry thought that Reagan had thought of this. As it was it felt like it was difficult for Reagan to let him in, so she totally took him by surprise when she said, "Forget the burgers, let's have a picnic. We can go to Whole Foods by the beach, buy some food, and have a picnic on the shore, right?"

Of course, he said, "Yeah, that's way better than a burger. I do love their kale smoothies."

Reagan had simply rolled her eyes and went to check on the car, but Harry felt his pulse race. For once Reagan actually took charge and decided where they were going to go. She spontaneously changed their plans, and he loved it. So of course they drove back by mid-day, stopped by Whole Foods, and then another store to buy a towel and a beach umbrella. They may have exchanged sarcastic remarks, per usual, but the vibe in the car had changed completely. The feeling between them was gradually shifting to something even more personal, more comfortable than before.

In fact, as Reagan started pulling out food from one of the paper bags as she sat upon the towel Harry had placed down on the sand, he realized that he had never told her what she wanted. And Reagan, being the anxious mess that she was, didn't want to go back and ask him. So she chose the best from what she knew about him.

"Okay," she said, nervousness flowing through her, "I got kale and chicken wraps, Thai peanut salad, hummus and pita chips, carrot sticks, your fucking kale/green goddess juice, and for dessert these cookies that are actually the best chocolate chip cookies I've ever had."

He smiled, almost chuckling, making Reagan say, "What?"

"Nothing." He said, grabbing the package that the wraps were in, "It's just that..."

"What?"

"How did you know I actually like these things?"

"Well, see my approach was easy, I tried to find the most hipster things in the store."

He smirked, "Oh, really? Well, hipsters have good taste now, don't we."

She shook her head, but turned to look at him, hoping to get some approval, "So, you're okay with what I bought?"

He bit down on the wrap and savored it before responding, purposefully making Reagan wait to hear his response, "Yeah. It's actually what I probably would've bought. Minus that peanut salad thing, that's gross."

"Says the guy who drinks leaves."

"Well if you say it like that it sounds weird."

"Because it's not weird enough to love liquefied vegetables."

"It's healthy." He pouted.

Reagan could have continued on, but she didn't. Instead, she and Harry ate under their umbrella, bare feet in the warm sand, and enjoyed each other's company. It was a rarity for both of them. There was no need for talk, no need for noise. It was enough just to be around each other. Surprisingly, it didn't scare either of them. It just felt right.

They spent the afternoon like that, lazing in the sun, talking for some periods of time, and then just listening to the waves. At one point, when the sun began to set and they had been there for hours, Harry leaned up on his elbow and looked at Reagan, "You know, it's gotten better with you around."

"Yeah?" She said, avoiding his stare because even though the sun was going down she was blushing like crazy and she didn't want him to notice.

"Yeah. The lads are more relaxed, the studio has a different feel, and for the first time, it feels like we have more control over the album and everything. You even got our social media back, Rae."

"Isn't that the way things are supposed to be though?"

He nodded, "But we both know that's not how the business works."

"I guess."

He took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers, "Stop being modest, I'm serious, Rae. You're doing a good job."

"Thank you." She said, feeling his warm grip around hers and feeling her heart start to race.

He sighed and laid back, his hand still in hers,"I'm having a bit of trouble finishing this song that I've been writing."

"What's it about."

"Don't worry about that."

"Then how can I help?"

"You can't. I just wanted someone to vent to."

Reagan laughed, "I can help."

"What do you know about songwriting."

"Nothing, but I'm good at rhyming."

"What rhymes with orange?"

"Blorenge."

"That is not a word." He said sitting back up indignantly.

"Actually, Kennedy already tried this with me long ago. It is too a word, Styles. It's a mountain in Wales."

"Why would I write about a mountain in Wales?"

"Why would you write about the color orange?"

"Touche." He said, lying back down laughingly.

"So, the song?"

He closed his eyes, "You'll hear it one day."

"Like when the album comes out?"

"Yeah that sounds about right."

"You're such an ass." She said, unwrapping her hand from his playfully and sitting up.

"Hey now, you'll see it's worth the wait."

"Eh, I don't care anyway." She shrugged, "It's not like it has anything to do with me."

He didn't respond.

"Wait, does it?"

"N-no."

"Is that why I can't help?"

"No, you can't help because you just told me orange rhymed with Blorange."

"Whatever." She said, laying back down but not intertwining her hand with his, "If it has to do with the color orange you have a problem anyway."

He chuckled, but didn't respond. It wasn't until the sun completely went down that he spoke again,"There's no one around..." The stars illuminated his face.

"So?"

He smiled, "You wanna go for a swim?"

"I didn't bring my bathing suit."

He grinned devilishly, "Neither did I."