The Adjacent Room [h.s]

Chapter 30

By the time we get home, it's dark outside and we've barely spoken since I got lunch nearly 6 hours ago. I can tell he's so lost in his head and struggling creatively, and I hate seeing him so conflicted. He still hasn't told me about what happened with the song being turned down, and I don't think he's going to. It hurts a little bit, but I guess it's his work and if we were any two other people, I wouldn't be working with him and wouldn't have any idea anyway. Usually he keeps his personal and working lives separate, because with a job like his, you can't live both at the same time. Recently I've watched the two blend together and I thought it was going to get better, but today's events have only made it worse. Normally the minute we're through the door, work isn't on his mind anymore, but it doesn't feel like that has been the case lately, and certainly not today.

His face is creased in deep thought as he puts his keys down, and I wish I could help ease his stress. There are so many things I could say, but I don't know what to say to make him feel better. He touches the small of my back affectionately, and then heads down the hallway and up the stairs without a word. I'm so used to Harry touching me at all times when we're at home that sometimes he barely leaves my side, but now I feel like he doesn't even want to be near me. I have to go up the stairs anyway to get to the bedroom to hang up my jacket and put my shoes away, so if I see him on the way, I'll figure something out.

I make my way up the stairs to find Harry sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face when I walk through the bedroom door..I guess I will be figuring it out. The room is dark, apart from a lamp that Harry must have turned on. I instinctively move towards him, and he must sense my presence, because he looks up. He doesn't look tired, but he just looks dull. I sit down in the middle of the bed, and cross my legs.

'Talk to me Harry.' I say kindly, and he moves up to lean against the bedhead. It's quite clear he doesn't want to talk to anyone, but he needs to talk or he's going to bottle it all up. He pinches his lip, deciding on what to say, sorting through all his thoughts. I can tell his mind is swimming, and I hope he wants to share at least a few of his thoughts so he doesn't drown. Before he answers, he shuffles slightly forward to be closer to me. This eases some of my own anxiety.

'It's..um..nothing really. I guess I'm just like..in my head.' He answers. I could tell that that was the issue without him having to say it, but he loses some of the tension in his shoulders after he's said it anyway. I think he must realise that he has more to say, because he continues.

'I just worry that what I come up with isn't good enough. Like..Liam and Louis wrote a lot for the band, and I just don't..well I don't know, I just don't want to make these songs that don't fit with what they want for the album and disappoint everyone.' He finishes. When he says 'they', I know who he's referring to, and it's not anyone in the actual band.

'Harry, let go of this fear.' I say, and move closer to him. All the tension in my chest has dissolved now that he's opened up, even if I know it was only a little bit of opening up. I can tell he's listening to what I'm saying, but his eyes don't meet mine. They stay fixed on his tshirt, where he's fiddling with the hem.

'Do you know what you do for people with your music? Its rawness and openness and the way you write allows your songs to mean something different to everyone. I don't think you realise how intricate and complex your lyrics are, and how people love that. They love your writing, Harry. You're not going to disappoint anyone. If they don't want the songs on the album, then they don't know anything about music that impacts people.' I finish, praying that my words strike a chord with him. When he finally looks up to me, his eyes are softer, but they don't have their usual Harry glow. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to tear down this wall he's building, but I'm going to do my very best.

'Let's go for a run, I think you need to run.' I say, deciding that this might help him. When he wasn't so busy, Harry and I would walk every night. Nowhere in particular, but we'd just walk. Nobody ever really saw us out, and it was nice for Harry to clear his mind without having to worry about what camera was coming from where. The same goes for running.