What would you do if I told you I'm trying to finish this book by the end of 2020 👀
...
Amelia
"Are you nervous?" I ask Harry in a whisper.
The two of us sit in his dressing room before his New York show, me on his lap with my arms around his neck and his hands on my waist. He smiles at me lovingly, causing one of his dimples to pop out.
"Yes," he answers, honestly. "I always get nervous before my shows but...as soon as I get on stage, it all just...disappears,"
I move one of my hands to cup Harry's cheek. His slight stubble scratches my skin, but I kind of like it. Harry tends to go for a clean shaven look but I've been trying to convince him to grow out his facial hair. I think it would suit him well.
"You're incredible, you know that?" I tell him, softly.
Sometimes I sit in awe just thinking about this man that I fell in love with. He's so incredibly talented and brilliant, and I'm lucky that I get to witness his genius firsthand. I don't know what I was expecting when we first met. I was in a trance since I never expected crossing paths with the Harry Styles, but I suppose I assumed he'd stick to One Direction's typical sound. However, Harry strayed from that path and created this almost 70's soft rock album. It's absolutely beautiful and it takes my breath away, just like watching him completely own the stage.
I don't tell Harry enough how gifted he actually is. In the beginning, I tried not to even bring his musicianship up because I worried that he would think I was only with him because of his celebrity status. That was far from the truth, but it was a worry I had nonetheless. But now that we're together and in a relatively serious relationship, I have no problem complimenting him. Sometimes I just don't because Harry has a tendency to get really shy or embarrassed. It's as if he's never had a compliment before, which I know is false.
Like always, Harry blushes once the words come out of my mouth and he briefly averts his eyes. I can't help but smile at how endearing it is when he's bashful like this.
"Thank you," he says, quietly. I remove the hand from his cheek as he looks back at me, his green eyes wide and his pupils dilated. "You're sitting up high tonight, right? On the bridge?"
I nod. I had a choice with where I could sit but I opted to hang out with Harry's personal assistant, Ryan, in the chase bridges. It's significantly more private with special security to make sure fans don't encroach on us. I don't mind seeing them and interacting with them, but I would just prefer to be a bit more secluded while I watch the remainder of Harry's tour. I've been overwhelmed with the attention lately.
"Yes. I believe I'm on the righthand side, so your left," I tell him.
"Okay, good. That's what I thought," Harry says. "I'll be looking for you,"
Just as I lean in to press my lips to Harry's, a knock sounds on the door. I groan just as we make contact and I feel Harry smile against me.
"Harry," a voice says, pushing the door open. I awkwardly turn my body around, meeting a wide-eyed Mitch. "Sorry - uh, did I interrupt?"
I love Mitch, but he has this truly spectacular gift of walking in on Harry and I during intimate moments.
"I was just getting ready to leave," I announce.
I stand up, removing myself off of Harry's lap. He frowns at the sudden loss of contact but I try to ignore it, not to be rude but because I know I'll run back into his arms. All I want to do is sit and cuddle with him, but neither of us can do that right now. He has to perform in less than an hour.
