Canyon Moon | H.S.

Put Into Words (22)

Harry's POV

"Come on H."

My eyes are closed, hands resting on the piano in front of me.

It's been two weeks since Natalie disappeared, no... left, I have to keep reminding myself. She left, Harry. It only took two weeks before the boys were convincing me that I had to start getting on with life again. Thoughts of deadlines and expectations swim in their ears, but all I can hear is her voice.

It mocks me. It rings in my ears, the sound of her saying I need you. God, obviously that was a lie.

I've been walking round with weights tied to my feet, while I'm sure the boys have been walking on eggshells. I know I'm on edge. I literally feel like I'm on the edge. I don't know what of though.

I've had girls leave me before, so why does this hurt so bad? Not only does it hurt but it clings to me. I can't distract myself from it, can't ignore it. It's stuck in my throat like when water goes down the wrong way, clawing at my breathing.

She didn't say anything, she just disap- left. She just left.

"Harry."

I think it's Louis talking to me. I don't know why they're so insistent that I participate. Surely they could write the rest of the songs without me. Louis' been strangely unaffected this whole time. At least, that's what it looks like, but then he's got a history of putting on a brave face for the rest of us, and my face is pretty far away from brave right now.

"I can't sit here and write some cheesy, radio-perfect song about love right now. Funnily enough, I'm not fucking feeling it." I say, my voice hoarse. 

I haven't spoken in days.

"Then sing about how you do feel."

I want to turn around and look at them, I can feel they're all watching me, but I don't have the energy.

Sing about how I feel? All that's going on in my head is white noise... and her voice. Plus something that sounds a lot like me yelling. That's all that I've heard for days. Nights even.

Her voice gets louder at night. The coldness of the space next to me in bed fuelling the memories. I've never before felt the space next to me quite like I do now.

I've spent most nights sitting on the balcony. I watch the stars and pretend that it's all okay. That she's inside sleeping, and I'm just catching my breath. Appreciating the sky. Counting the stars.

I place my hand on the piano keys, very tenderly pushing a chord. It's as quiet as I can play, but the sound is still too loud. It rattles around the room, breaking through my skull. My voice is painful as I sing.

"How many nights does it take to count the stars?" I sing slowly.

I'm up to thirteen, and I haven't gotten close yet. If she was here she'd probably count with me. I can feel her, her body huddled next to me on the same chair, her fingers drawing tallies on my skin for every star she counts. I squeeze my eyes shut.

"That's the time it would take to fix my heart."

The room behind me is dead silent, I can't even hear the boys breathing. The words we said to each other flash through my head: I need you, I love you. How? How can it be true?

"Baby I was there for you, all I ever wanted was the truth." My voice is slow. Every note is painful, not in my throat but in the pit of my stomach. It feels like someone is ripping the words out of me.

"How many nights have you wished someone would stay? Lie awake only hoping they're okay."

I doubt I'll ever stop.

"I've never counted all of mine, if I tried, I know it would feel like infinity."

My voice trails off, a hot tear escaping the inner corner of my eye. I can hear soft murmurs behind me and what sounds like someone writing, probably the lyrics I just sung. Niall starts softly strumming the guitar, figuring out what chords go behind the notes.

They do their jobs, that's what they do, and I sit and stare at the piano.