Chances || H.S.

11 | Death of Me

*** Later in the chapter, the italics are Easton and the bold are Harry. Anyways, carry on <3***

Harry:

Three days. It's been three whole days since I last spoke to Easton. I played Madison Square Garden last night and came straight back to the hotel afterward and have not left the bed, since.

I wanted to call her. She was the first person who I wanted to speak to after I got off the stage all hot and sweaty, but I stopped myself. Calling her that night was not a mistake at all but I hated how desperate it made me seem. This is not how it usually goes for me. But it has been such a long time since I felt a genuine connection with someone.

I am trying not to get too far ahead of myself either. What if she really doesn't care what happens with this. She may want no part in ever seeing me again. I hate this part of my brain that keeps telling me to ruin it before it ever even has a chance to come to fruition, but no matter how hard I try to silence it, the voice is there.

Jeff and I have managed to get over everything that happened in Nashville and I can tell that he feels bad. I know he didn't mean to lash out the way that he did, but he did and there's nothing we can do to change it. He has been watching me closely ever since we got here to New York and he has definitely noticed my lack of concentration. I can tell that it's bothering him a bit, but I'm glad he's leaving me alone to let me deal with my shit.

Rolling over in the bed, I grab the remote for the curtains off the bedside table, punching the button to draw the curtains back so that I can see the city. New York is amazing, but it's not like Nashville. I don't have a home here, even though I probably should. The everyday person does not give a shit who I am, but the fans here are what keep me from planting a root.

The light pours into the room causing me to squint and rub at my eyes to let them adjust. I sit up to adjust the pillows a bit so that I can sit comfortably in the bed. These slow types of mornings are my favorite because I feel like I can breathe. I have a flight to catch tonight but I don't have to leave the hotel for a few hours. I leave my phone on the table and instead reach for the worn journal that goes everywhere with me.

Flipping it open to a blank page, I let my mind race for a minute. The song we wrote in Nashville has been a catchy tune that I find myself going back to quite often, but I just can't get it to seem finished.

But today, I feel like writing about her. She is all I can think about, and to be honest the song in Nashville may have also been inspired by her. I jot down a few ideas, starring what I like and scratching out what doesn't fit. I hum a tune that seems to work and catch myself by surprise when I sing out loud.

"Just let me adore you,"

I quickly write it down, and the rest of the chorus writes itself. I haven't felt this inspired in a while and I know that Jeff is going to like what I am coming up with. One good thing about my record label since leaving One Direction is that they have left me alone to make the music that I want to make. I have not felt smothered like I often did in the band. But without the band, I wouldn't be doing what I love right now so I owe everything to One Direction.

I hear my phone ringing from the side table as I am finishing up writing and lean over to grab it, hoping that it's Easton, but I smile at the phone when I read that it's my mother. I tap the button and her face instantly fills the screen.

"Harry, child. How are you?"

Her voice instantly calming my mind.

"Hi, mum. I'm a bit exhausted yeah?" She shakes her head at my words. No matter how many times I tell her I am fine, she never truly believes me. Mother's instinct I imagine.