Make Me Beg ➸ Larry Stylinson

five

Harry POV:

The photoshoot from the day before went rather well despite getting called up for it with only a two-day notice beforehand. It was for Gucci (arguably my favorite brand) and they dressed me in a few different suits, taking a shitload of pictures and spending lots of time on hair and makeup between outfits.

My favorite suit from yesterday was a dark navy suit that was slim enough to hug my figure without appearing tight or restrictive. The stylists had opted for a deep red peaked lapel on the suit coat, which was embroidered with a series of blossoming roses and flowers. Beneath the suit coat was a simple green and white plaid shirt with all the buttons done up.

Niall and I had hung out at his bar after I was done with my design meeting (where I brainstorm new clothing concepts with other designers) and we stayed late into the night. 

By the time I was a few drinks deep I was feeling drained of energy so I left the bar to catch a train and took it to across London to the train station near my flat.

Niall had offered to sleep over when I told him I was going to bed in case anything happened again, but I kindly rejected his offer. I was too tired to imagine the possibilities, and if I had another episode, it wouldn't have been anything that I hadn't experienced before.

✰ ✰ ✰ 

This morning the skies are cloudy, causing me to frown as I drive to the cafe. The sun only chooses to shine on occasion in London, and it's rather dreadful when it doesn't because then the city just appears to be various shades of grey and cloudy, a gloomy feeling lingering in the sky. It's like all the energy and lively bustle of the city goes away with the sun.

I promised the nice waiter, Jen, that I'd be back to perform again. I really did like the little cafe, it felt cozy and warm. It was full of love and soul. 

So, with nothing better to do, I'd decided to drive down there again this morning to sing (assuming the stage wasn't already preoccupied).

I pull into the parking lot behind the cafe and park my car. My guitar case is in the trunk, so I get out of the car and retrieve it before locking the doors with the fob in my pocket.

The coffee house is warm, a nice contrast from the cool and breezy London air. There's no one on stage which means I can perform without waiting for someone else to be done.

"Harry, it's nice to see you back," Jen greets me kindly.

"Good to be back. I have a feeling this little cafe will become like a second home,"

"Would you like anything before you go perform? The morning crowd is rather large today, and more are to come," Her smile gets bigger, "I can guarantee you that. Anyways, I can surely grab you something when the barista has a moment to spare."

"I'm perfectly alright at the moment, but thank you," I'd downed a thermos of green tea while driving here and wasn't very thirsty.

"Well then, the stage is yours!"

I thank her and head over to the stage. I unlatch my guitar case, revealing my instrument of choice. 

I hand painted the guitar myself; the body is black with white and yellow dots and a moon, two purple and blue cacti, and a blue cat-like creature. There was also a ring of pink and purple around the soundhole that fades nicely into the black body.

It used to just be your average tan guitar, but I saw it as more of a canvas and took advantage of the space I had to work with to really make it my own. Thankfully, I didn't mess up the paint job and ended up being quite content with my work.