Amelia
It's been a couple of weeks since Harry and I came home for the holidays. We've both been in a bit of a weird place since the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. After I fell asleep crying in his arms that night, I just couldn't bring myself to tell him the real reason for my tears. How could I tell my boyfriend that his fame is causing me stress? It's not his fault I'm being dragged into the spotlight and that all of these girls are attracted to him. But I know no matter what I say he'll blame himself and I can't do that do him. I don't want him to feel negatively about anything.
So I told him I was exhausted from jet lag and just missed him in general. It wasn't a lie but it wasn't entirely the truth either. He just looked so sad the following day and when I opened my mouth to talk with him, I spewed out the least hurtful things possible in order to protect him, even if it meant hurting myself in the process.
I sigh to myself as I step into the elevator with Harry's Christmas gifts in hand. I've been out shopping for him for hours. I wasn't planning on going out today, but Harry was in a bit of a weird mood earlier and I decided that I needed a breather. Lately it seems like I need a lot of these. I'll often make excuses to leave the apartment just so I can think and process what's going on in my life. But luckily, at least something actually came out of it today.
I opted to get Harry a new journal - the nicest one I could find. I was going to get him this old fashioned leather one but then I remembered the time I found him crying over a video that had to do with cows. I think it was a documentary of sorts that he was watching on his phone at some ungodly hour. I had to cradle him tight in my arms so he would fall back asleep.
I also got him a vintage Pink Floyd t-shirt I found at a thrift store, an original Fleetwood Mac record, and a book called In Watermelon Sugar. But my favorite thing that I got him, that he might absolutely hate, is a gift certificate to a nail salon. We had talked back in either June or July about getting our nails done together and the time has come. Harry might not admit it, but I can tell he secretly wants to try it. So I got him a gift certificate, claiming it'll be a 'spa day' for the two of us - manicures and pedicures included.
When I finally reach my floor, I nearly combust from the sight in front of me. All the lights are off in the apartment, but a glow emits from the hundreds of tea lights and candles scattered around. A trail of rose petals is also left on the floor, leading all the way down the hallway.
"Harry?" I timidly call for him. Is this why he was in a weird mood today?
I carefully walk into the apartment and follow the trail of rose petals, my heart thumping hard against my rib cage. The trail leads me to my bedroom and I'm confused when I don't see Harry in it. I furrow my eyebrows and place the bag on the floor before realizing that the path of petals continues to the ensuite.
"Harry?" I say again, pushing the bathroom door open.
My eyes widen when I see my boyfriend perched on the edge of the bathtub, with a fluffy, periwinkle robe on. His hand is dipped in the soapy water of the tub but he quickly pulls it out and stands up when he sees me.
"Hi," he nervously says.
He looks at me anxiously. Even in the same dim light in the bathroom from the candles strewn about, I can still see the nervous look in his eyes.
"Hi," I respond. "What's all this? Is this why you texted me, asking where I was?"
Harry sheepishly nods, a small smile tugging on his lips.
"Yeah," he admits. "I - uh - just wanted to do something special for you. I thought we could spend some time together. I know baths are - I dunno...we don't have to do it. I just thought - "
