GOLDEN (harry styles)

être si seul

(07/04/19)

NIXIE'S P.O.V

I laugh at something that Amelia says as I take yet another sip of white wine, feeling the warm taste linger on my tongue for a few moments afterwards. It trails to my stomach, where I feel full and about to burst with the delicious dinner we just indulged in. It was a simple pasta dish, but still so good. Better than it should be.

"So how was Tokyo?" She asks Harry, who sits beside me.

"Oh it was good, actually. I got some work done on the album."

"When will you let us hear a sneak peek of it?" Griffin pokes.

Harry shifts uncomfortably in his chair, clearing his throat nervously. I reach for his hand under the table, squeezing it gently and rubbing small circles into his palm. His shoulders loosen a bit. But his skin still stays cold.

It's been a bit strange since he got back from Tokyo yesterday afternoon. I'm not completely sure why, other than the phone call. But I thought we would move on from that quickly, or at least he would. Harry just seems off. His smiles are wide, yet forced under the surface, and the green of his eyes are dimmed instead of bright. He seems exhausted, understandably. But I can't read the expression that wavers uncertainly in the orbit of his eyes.

I wish I knew what was happening in his head.

"Soon, hopeful, I just don't want to rush it..."

"You don't have to show us until you want to," I reassure him.

"I know, Nix. I know." He replies too quickly, smiling at me tightly.

My stomach sways with nausea as he turns back to Griffin and Amelia across the table, disconnecting our hands and placing his on the table instead. I try to hide my frown, letting my gaze wander over his face for a split second in attempt to figure him out. It doesn't work.

I look to my lap, toying with the ring he gave me. It's become an anxious habit. The ruby shimmers under the subtle candlelight of the room, small rays dancing to the rose ring on the finger next to it. I like them being close together, and not far apart. It makes me feel so safe.

"So did you hear anything from that photography agency?" Griffin asks, snapping me out of the clouds.

Harry glances at me, confused, but not showing it to anyone else's eyes but mine. I gulp, sitting up straighter and tidying my hair. I can feel Harry's breathing. I speak lightly.

"Oh, not yet, but it will probably take a few days..."

"What photography agency?"

I sigh internally at Harry's question, lowering my chin slightly. His eyebrows are furrowed unnoticeably, lips turned down at the end. Griffin glances between us, sharing a look with Amelia.

"I was just looking at something the other day. Don't worry about it," I shake my head, sipping on my wine. "It doesn't matter."

"Well it clearly does-"

"I'll tell you later, Harry." I look away from his intense gaze, begging him to stop.

He does, thank God, mirroring me in taking a gulp of his own wine, picking up some pasta with his fork and chewing it harshly, his jawline becoming more prominent with his frustration. I tighten my grip on my glass.

"So, will you go on tour again? Griffin and I would love to see you in action." Amelia tries, beaming brightly.

"Maybe. The album should be out by the end of this year, but I don't know. It depends if the dates work out. But at the moment it probably wouldn't be for a while."