‘I don’t like people saying “you’re famous”. I just struggle with the word, it just gives you like, no substance, it’s not like “he was a really nice guy or he was really funny”. It becomes this thing where it’s like “he is famous”. And it’s just a weird…i hate it’
After your heated argument earlier on this morning, you were sure that a little time away and a cuddle tonight would make everything better. No. You’d made Harry some extra nice dinner that you knew he’d love. You brought it up to his studio where you knocked on the door and had no answer. You called his name and you were ignored. You opened the door to find him watching TV. “Didn’t fancy watching TV downstairs?” You asked. Ignored. “H, I brought you up some dinner. Spaghetti and meatballs, your favorite.” You smiled placing a kiss on his head. Ignored and shrugged away with the kiss you so generously gave. “H, are you still mad? I said I’m sorry.” You spoke. He simply lifted the Sky button and flicked through the channels. You put the plate on the coffee table and sat next to Harry. You wrapped your arms around Harry and tried to pull him close, he shrugged you off. “Harry! Please!” You pleaded. You were still ignored. “Silent treatment? Really? Harry really your being that silly about it?” You groaned. His eyes glued to the TV. “I can’t believe you H” You sighed.
Feeling a little shitty about yourself you got yourself a bowl of spaghetti and meatballs and went and ran yourself a bath. Bubbles filled to the top and a few candles loitering and your favorite jazz playlist going, you felt a little more happier. But you craved a word from your boyfriend. It was a silly argument, the lack of you being together and his stress caused it. You prayed that he’d come talk to you before you went to bed, but you had a hard time believing that it would actually happen. You and Harry were normally so happy but the stress of the album was beginning to take a toll on his health. Bringing this up wasn’t a happy topic for your both. You ate another meatball the door opened to the bathroom. There stood your boyfriend. A bowl of what you presumed was the one you gave to him earlier. He gave you a soft smile as he cheeks reddened. He sat down on the floor head against the tub. “I’m a dickhead.” He muttered. You sighed and a small smile graced your lips. “Sometimes.” You replied. You placed your bowl on the side and ruffled your hand through Harry’s hair. “I love you pet” Harry said. “I’m sorry” you smiled. “It’s okay, I’m just worried about you sweets. If this album is taking a toll on your mental health then you need to calm it. You’ll drive yourself insane. You can’t be doing that.” You said. “Can I get in?” He asked. You nodded. He stripped himself of his grey joggers, sports top and boxers. “Squidge” He muttered. You moved forward in the tub and he stepped in and you leant against him. “Love you petal, I really do” He smiled pressing a kiss to your neck. “H, I seriously think you need a break.” You said. “I think I need to get away from London and L.A.” He spoke. “Like a holiday?” You asked. “Like a holiday.” he stated. “Maybe like just chilling and writing in a different environment.” He said. “For a week?” You asked. “No, maybe just until I’m ready to come home, won’t be for too long though.” You frowned. “H, I don’t think I can go that long without seeing you, I need you here with me, I know that selfish but, we are barely talking much now, let alone what will happen if your not even in the country!” You exclaimed. “No, pet, I’d want you to come with me petal, we can chill for the days by the pool, have some good old food and a good tan to us.” He smiled. “So somewhere hot?” You asked. “Jamaica maybe?” He asked. “I’d love that!!” You smiled.
SHALL I DO KIND OF A HARRY WRITING IN JAMAICA WITH THE MISSUS?!?!?!