sunflower/ hes

seven

I woke up late.

I set an alarm and still woke up late. The alarm didn't even wake me up. The sound of music and buzzing in my ear wasn't even the sound that woke me up.

Harry woke me up at 5:20, banging on my door until I got up to open it, angry, bed head and all. It took him one glance at me still in my pjs with a scowl on my face to realize what had happened, he started full on cackling and began to sing 'Goodmorning Sunshine.' Even after I walked away from the door to get ready.

It didn't take me long to actually get ready, we were only going to be traveling for a few hours then going our separate ways once we got to Birmingham before the show. The way it was planned out, there were four and a half hours to kill before we had to be at the venue.

Well, before I had to be at the venue to meet Harry Lambert. Which, like I wasn't nervous enough meeting Harrys friends, I was petrified of meeting Lambert. What makes it worse is the fact that I googled the guy I'm 'filling in' for. There's no way I'll be anything like Harris Reed.

Lugging my suitcase down the stairs and out the door I came in yesterday, I see a car idling off to the side. One of the older cars, it's white and only a two door with a sunroof. Vintage. Harry looks like a model for a magazine, leaning against it with his sunglasses shielding his eyes.

"You do know it's dark out don't you?" I walk past him to the trunk, lifting my own suitcase inside. "And how are we all going to fit in this tiny thing?"

"One, it's an aesthetic. Two, it's only me and you this go around... others are coming later... and the car is kind of an aesthetic."

"Your aesthetic is a safety hazard." In a sudden bout of confidence I reach up and steal the glasses from his face, putting them over my own eyes.

He doesn't say anything as he watches me climb into the car and shut the door behind me. It takes him so long to get in I begin to overthink my actions. I mean he's probably on the phone right now giving my job away. The door clicks open followed by his tall frame bending into the car.

"You know, if it were anyone other than you I would ask for them back. But, I like them better on you." When he gets in he leans over my body and rummages around in the glovebox, pulling out a hard plastic case. "Annnnd I have an identical pair. Hashtag twins!"

I try to pretend I didn't hear his compliment. The point of this trip is to work and make a name for myself, not fall back in love with someone so far out of my league.

But that's kind of hard when he's singing love songs to me when he wakes me up.

"How'd you sleep?" He backs out of the garage, fiddling with the radio as he makes his way down the long drive.

"Really well, you have a comfy mattress."

"Do you still sleep on that rock?"

"Don't be rude." I scowl at him under the dark lenses of his glasses, laying my head back on the seat. "But yes. I do have the same mattress."

"Alex, come on that's not good for your back."

"What you've slept on it once and said it was nice and firm." He sucks in a sharp breath, rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes glued to the road.

When the words came to mind I didn't think of the only night he slept on my mattress was the night before he left. The night.

"I didn't mean-" he cuts me off before I can say anything else. If his mind is anything like mine, images of that night are vividly resurfacing. Is the heater on in here?