DEAR HARRY, | H.S.

Forty

Jamie

I awoke in white sheets with thoughts of Harry rubbing my shoulders while I leaned into him in the bathtub. Surrounded by sweet smelling bubbles and warm water. His hands felt rough and worked as they kneaded between my shoulder blades. I wanted to ask him where he learned how to give a massage like this, but then again I didn't want to know whether or not he'd been in this same position with someone else.

My arm stretched over the side of the large king sized bed, searching for a body. A childish sigh left my lips as I realized he wasn't in the bed with me this morning. I sat up and ran a hand through my messy hair. When I looked to my right where the end table was, I noticed a scratchy written note.

"Dearest Jamie,

I've gone to the studio. You are welcome to visit later if you'd like, I wrote an address at the end of this letter, just take a limo if you do decide to. (please do of course, I already miss you)

Feel free to order room service. Take a look in the closet, the stylists have left some clothes for you to try on.

Don't worry about anything, enjoy your time with me. Relax.

See you soon.

H"

I swooned at the signature. H.

A signature I'd seen on Twitter how many times. I don't think I'd ever stop getting butterflies. I try so hard to tone it down for him, but sometimes it's so hard to not still be a fan girl.

Room service sounded delicious, but I did want to go the studio. Perhaps they could prepare it to go? Of course they could, how could they not in this hotel?

Maybe I was being too needy though, I should just sit and eat in peace. I have spent my whole life looking for the kind of bliss I could experience in this swanky hotel room.

But....

I dialed the number that was on the phone.

"Could I please get a chicken salad sandwich with french fries.. I mean chips..." I mentally slapped myself thinking about the change in culture.

The person on the end of the line sounded posh and polite as she repeated my order. I added a tall coffee, apparently they had a Starbucks here.

Harry

The ride to the studio was lonely. I missed Jamie as soon as I left the hotel room with her half naked in bed. I silently hoped she would wake up soon and come straight to the studio, but the other part of me, the less selfish one, hoped she'd sleep in and do whatever she wanted to do.

Even though all I wanted to do was sit and bathe with her again, that was magical.

When I got to the studio, I noticed Liam outside talking to a few taller men in black suits. Probably our new security.

"Hey!" I said as I jumped out of the van.

Liam waved to me and I walked over. I shook hands with what was our new security team at the new studio they set us up with. It was tucked away pretty quietly in a small area of town. They were very polite, Liam already sounded like he'd know the two his whole life.

I was soon told that Zayn called in sick for the week, a whole week. I guess it wasn't totally unlike him to do so, but in the middle of a tour season, it's not like him to miss studio time.

I'd wondered what I would do at the end of this tour leg, we had a few months off. I thought of all the places I could take her anywhere. As far away from Wisconsin as I could, with all of her tainted memories. I could keep her safe.

I'd start planning a trip very soon. Perhaps we'd never leave.

Liam and I stepped away from the guards and walked into the rehearsal studio. It was very quaint, I quite enjoyed the simplicity of the decor and the seventies feel it gave me. Dark wooden walls, an orange tinged carpet (not shag, although I wish it was).

Niall and Louis sat in the boxed room. Niall held a guitar while Louis tapped his foot and sang.

"Is that something new they're working on?" I asked.

The producer nodded his head, he had headphones on while listening to their rough draft of a song I guess was called "Love You Goodbye".

"That sounds depressing." I joked.

We sat down the brown comfy couch behind the sound boards and watched as the producer turned knobs and pressed buttons.

I missed Jamie...

Jamie

Oh. My. God.

"This closet!" I yelled.

The hotel had a walk in closet that was absolutely full. I looked through the shirts and various pairs of pants and leggings, everything was my size. Everything.

Harry said he had some clothes for me to try on. Some. Clothes.

What a pile of crap. This was a god damn store in my hotel room.

I was giddy with excitement when I saw the various labels I never thought I would ever see. There were purses lining the top shelves.

I could walk out of this room looking like a fricken Kardashian.

Except less of an annoyance I'd like to think.

(No hate, I actually really like the Kardashians and when I think of fashion, I automatically think of them.)

I picked and pulled and finally settled on an outfit.

It was nothing too glamorous, not for the day at least. Maybe he'd bring me out for a night on the town and I could get fancy,

I never thought I'd be thinking about that, but when you're thrown a closet filled with clothes that fit you moderately perfectly, what else would you want to do.

I wore a flowy black mesh shirt with a red tank top underneath. I found some white, distressed, skinny jeans that somehow fit like a glove over my thick thighs. I looked down and found exactly what I was looking for.

Shoes.

Harry somehow knew my style better than I did. There were nicer, glamour, shoes but next to them were converses and combat boots.

I grabbed a short pair of combat boots and laced them up to my ankles.

A/N

Sorry this is a little bit of a filler chapter. I've been a little busy lately. I started working on fiverr.com as a side job. I charge $5 to write a 2000 word short story about any celebrity you ship yourself with. It's a lot of fun, because I get a lot of messages about what you guys are passionate about.

Thank you for your continued support and I will continue to update you guys about Harry and Jamie, because in the end this story is my baby and it and you guys are still very important to me.

Thank you, you wonderful people for everything you do for me everyday.