chapter 44

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Amber Easton

A lot has changed during the past week.

I really should be making a list to count them all, though that would take forever.

The main difference is probably the fact that my album is now released. And it sold out. Twice.

To be quite honest, a few days before releasing the record, I'd made peace with the fact that the tracks wouldn't reach even half the audience I had when working with Harry because he's not involved in the majority of the process.

I genuinely thought that nobody would care for my music if I did a project of my own. I'm so grateful I was wrong, though.

I had a very sweet celebration on the day of the album's release. I didn't want any huge parties, so I had a nice dinner with my friends at Beachwood. Since Landon's the owner of the cafe, he opened it after the working time and filled the table with tons of delicious food.

My small friend circle — including Liv, Niall, Harry, and Landon — sat under the warm lights, catching up on life and joking around. I ended up going home with the biggest smile on my face at the fact the night went by so smoothly, not even containing a single awkward moment.

On top of all this album chaos, I've started taking French lessons. Even though Harry's trying his best with all of his french-words-of-the-day, I still want to get the closure I've been longing for eternity. We'll see how it goes.

My team has also agreed for me to go on tour with Harry.

They say it would be really good for my publicity, but I honestly couldn't care less about any of that.

The look on Harry's face when I told him I'd be going with him was absolutely priceless. He couldn't shut up for the rest of the night about how he doesn't know what he'd be doing if I couldn't perform with him because long-distance has never worked for him in the past, plus he'd be too afraid we'd grow apart focusing on our individual careers, so it's really a godsend that we could fit our schedules together.

I don't even know what to expect from the tour because I've never performed in front of huge crowds. Usually, it'd only be a handful of people or cameras in the audience, so it'd feel like casual practice.

It seems to me that Harry's pretty much started living with me. Well, there has never been a talk of moving in, but he's stayed every single night of the week with me, and neither of us has been against it. With even more days passing, my closet deliberately gets filled with more and more of the clothes from his apartment.

Now that I see him pretty much every day, I've noticed he's started to carry Winnie the Pooh around literally everywhere he goes. Though, I don't know if it's because he loves it so much, or if he's just afraid it's somehow going to disappear one day. Maybe both.

For 3 full days, the teddy sat on my desk completely untouched. Harry couldn't even look at it.

On the 4th day, I walked in on him hugging the tiny bear as hard as he could, while also heavily sobbing into the yellow fabric of it. I immediately walked up to him, put my hands around his shoulders, and let him lean into me and cry on my skin. I didn't say a word.

Now Pooh's become his best friend.

While Harry's healing from his trauma, we've also been training with dealing with my own. Last week, I asked Harry multiple times to take me on small car rides around the suburbs. So far, they've all ended up with me having some kind of breakdown, but they've been getting a little lighter. I probably should be going to therapy, but the thought of having to tell the whole story to a stranger makes me want to throw up.

That's why we're trying to go on a drive today again. Only this time Harry's rented out a white convertible.

I'm surprised I didn't come up with the idea myself; with the lack of the roof on the car, I no longer can feel as claustrophobic and have the impression I can't get locked inside a vehicle.

Due to the car not having a roof, we've decided it's best to drive before sunrise to lessen the chance of people recognizing us. With our hoods up, and colorful sunglasses working as our disguises, we're ready to go.

Harry said he was going to take me somewhere special. He also promised we'd be able to see the sun rising.

"Thanks." He slowly takes a pitted cherry from the plastic container I reached out in his direction. He puts the berry between his teeth, readjusting his hands onto the leather steering wheel.

"Did you know I can tie a knot out of the stem with just my teeth?" I grab one berry for myself and quickly pop it into my mouth. I fold the stem in half with my tongue, before twisting it in a way that crosses the ends. With a few swift motions, I make Harry's eyes widen when I pull the tied knot between my teeth.

"Huh." He leans back in his seat, shrugging. "Every day's a school day, I guess."

I would offer to teach him how to do it, but I'm afraid it'll take his attention off the road. I glance in the backseat, watching as the gust of wind slips under the picnic basket's top, revealing the snacks he's prepared to enjoy later.

"Can we turn the radio on?" I ask, pushing around a few buttons on the center console. I'm aware this is a retro car, so I wasn't even suggesting the AUX option.

Harry's joined me on the quest of finding the right button to turn the device on. We've now messed up all of the air conditioner and roof settings, but the music has not yet been discovered. "I think it's broken." He glances between the console and the road professionally.

"Really?" I try again, now pressing every single button in a row to try to figure out it again.

"Well... The good thing is we're musicians?" He shrugs, throwing a sleek look my way. "I wouldn't mind listening to you singing. At all. Sounds like a dream to me, honestly."

"Yeah?" I cock an eyebrow. "I can't think of any road-trip-worthy songs," I say that because I'm not really in the mood for singing today.

"Well, I do have one in mind. Fits for every situation." He grins, and his eyes spark as a sweet memory has now flashed in his head.

"What's your type?
She'll paint a cabinet from the 60's
And find diamonds when she's thrifting"

He flashes a grin my way while voicing out the part of 'Strawberry Sunscreen' — our pancake song. I wouldn't necessarily call this singing because he's mostly doing it in a posh accent while doing motions with his hands.

"Oh, what's it like?
To be the muse of every true romantic

West of the Atlantic" He sings further, continuing his performance, and it actually makes me blush under his sight.

"C'mon, Am. Sing it with me now." Harry's now moving his hips to the lyrics, trying to get me to join him. For a moment, it makes me feel so normal, that I don't mind the fact we're in a car.

"Nope!" I gently grab his wrist and put it back onto the steering wheel. "I think you forgot we're not in a self-driving Tesla, but rather on a vintage vehicle that's about to fall apart any moment."

"C'mon. Just because it has a broken radio, doesn't mean the whole thing's falling apart." He defends the old car, though I give him a sideways glance at the fact we're now bouncing up and down in our seats, even though the road is completely smooth.

Not able to stand silence for long, I start digging around the car's creases, trying to find a cassette of some type. I open the glove compartment. Correction — the glovebox falls off one of its hinges and opens itself, so now I have to hold it up with the help of my knees.

I'm surprised by how many packs of gum, tissues, and old snacks I find that the owner of the car clearly couldn't bother enough to take out from the small compartment. Carefully digging through the junk, my fingertip grazes the holy grail — a CD. Though, it's not what I imagined it to be.

A CD audiobook of Michael Faudet's poetry — 'Bitter Sweet Love'.

"Look what I found." I lift the CD in the air, careful to hold it strong enough for the wind to not slip it out of my hand.

"Give it a spin." He shrugs, pointing to the gap into the console, which I slide the copy inside, turning the volume up to the maximum.

I thought we would stop listening to it after the first few minutes, but no. We both seem to be way too enthralled by the beautiful words of the book. We listen through shorter poems, we listen through longer ones, and not even utter a single word in the middle, except for a few skipped breaths to not interrupt the experience.

The CD suddenly comes to an end, and I didn't even realize we'd been listening to for it so long. I don't even have the chance to say anything when Harry's pushing the rewind button to skip it back to the start. So we listen to it for the second time.

Approaching the end of the third time, I've already memorized a few lines of the most beautiful ones. To confirm my knowledge, a poem comes up that has caught my attention multiple times.

"I could watch a million sunrises and still never see one quite as beautiful as your eyes slowly opening in the morning."

I mutter along the lines under my breath, but then turn my head to see Harry doing the exact same thing. We share a single look of calmness, just nodding our heads in agreement of something undecipherable.

He offers me the most peaceful smile I've ever seen. This isn't one with his teeth. It's only with his lips, but his green eyes express a sense of tranquility I could only dream to experience. The wind rushes sweetly through his hair, making a single curl flap against his forehead stubbornly.

To that, I laugh, pushing a fistful of my own locks out of my face, and lean back in my seat full of joy.

Wow. I might actually enjoy car rides with Harry.

Another poem comes up onto the speakers, but this time I'm glancing down at my hands and keeping quiet even though I know the lines of this one as well.

"Falling so madly in love with you is a tragedy. Nothing in my world will ever seem so beautiful again."

I don't dare look up. I mean, it's not like either of us said the words, so I'm not sure why I'm feeling this nervous.

I wait for three more poems to pass and clear the air, even though the lines don't register in my mind because the particular one keeps lingering in my mind. When I finally lift my sight, connecting it with his, I see the exact same emotion flash past his eyes like he's struggling with this as well.

It's crazy how much we've opened up to each other, though we keep the most important things hidden away in a dark corner.

"Uhm..." Harry clears his throat, stopping the car on the side. He looks up at me, shutting his eyes, then opening them again. "We're here."

"Here?" I repeat, my words laced with doubt. I scan over the area he's parked in and see nothing but a few trees creating a miniature forest and a narrow ditch stretching over the side. "So you're planning to murder me here?"

He chuckles at my raised eyebrow, climbing out his side. "Not yet. C'mon, we just have to walk through the forest to get to the place. It'll be worth it in the end."

Even though I'm not a fan of walking through darkened woods early in the morning, I trust him enough to be by my side the whole time, so I take his stretched-out hand.

Although it's been years since I last took a walk through the woods, I still manage to trip over every branch hidden in the green moss, but Harry just keeps holding onto me tighter to help me get through the exercise.

Every time my shoelaces get stuck under some rocks, I let out a string of apologies, but he doesn't even let out a single sigh at my recurring stumbles. Instead, he lets out small gasps of laughter with me, while encouraging and holding my hand.

Harry was right — the exhausting walk is absolutely worth it when we arrive at the destination.

Truly, my breath gets swept out of my lungs when I see the field full of dandelions.

The meadow seems to stretch for miles ahead, and it's creating a bliss of yellow wonders. All the tiny flowers vary in size and age, but they bring an absolute illusion of harmony ahead of us.


"Wha—" I start my sentence but am too stunned to finish it.

It's all yellow.

I knew it was my favorite color for a reason.

"Harry, I—" I start it again but can't find the words to explain such beauty.

"I know, Am. I know..." He smirks but never looks at the field ahead of us. I feel him inspecting my every single stunned motion.

Suddenly I forget about every single problem that's happening. I just rush straight into the family of flowers, pure joy rushing through me.

I spread my arms wide, my fingertips grazing every single bloom of yellow as if to soak up every piece of honey they reflect. I twist around in circles through the field, closing my eyes and letting go of everything heavy on my chest.

I let my uncensored laughter spill past my lips, and I don't even care my legs are getting wet from the morning dew, rather enjoying the refreshment it offers.

I continue my levitation of happiness until I feel tears rolling down my cheeks from joy because I haven't felt this good in forever.

When I let my eyes open again, I don't care how Harry's just standing there and watching me dance in the bliss. There is a distinctly rare grin on his cheeks that makes his dimples pop, and it makes me believe he's getting the biggest rush of happiness by just looking at me.

I don't care about all the flowers I'm squishing beneath my feet when I rush up to his open arms, falling into his hug, my arms wrapped around his neck, while our lips clash together.

Our kiss is yellow.

He kisses me, letting it be known he wouldn't want to share this moment with anybody else.

I kiss him back, implying how lucky I feel to be here.

We kiss because we're so high on happiness.

We kiss for minutes. Maybe hours. Maybe days.

We kiss until we physically can't breathe anymore.

Somehow we've ended up sitting on the hard ground, surrounded by thousands of dandelions.

We spend an hour still high on the feeling, sharing a pack of sour worms and lemonade. I pull a carton of macaron cookies, and a box of chocolates out of our picnic basket.

Harry's trying to make this moment last forever by recording on the VHS camera he bought in Italy a while ago. He's filmed on it a couple of times when we spent some time together.

I'm enthralled by his laughter when he eats my self-made sandwich, leaving a trail of mayo down his chin. He doesn't notice it until I start hysterically laughing.

I watch as he struggles to wipe it off, while I munch on a chocolate chip cookie. Halfway through my bite, an idea creeps into my head. "Can I make a dandelion wreath for you? It'd suit you so well."

"You know how to make a flower wreath?" He cocks an eyebrow in doubt, still wiping his chin, even though it's clean now.

"I think so, yeah. Shouldn't be that hard." I don't give him a choice because I've already stood up and plucked a handful of the yellow flowers with the longest stems.

"Well, I only know how to make a dandelion horn." Harry shrugs, plucking one flower of his own.

"A dandelion horn?" I raise my brows, never heard of the term. I cross the long-stemmed flowers over each other and weave them in a way that creates a long and thick line of floral bliss.

"Yeah. You just pop its head off, and split it into a few sections." He guides me through every step, showing me how it's done. "Then just blow like so."

He demonstrates how it works, blowing air into one end of the tube. It instantly creates a birthday horn or the kazoo instrument type of sound.

"Wow." I smile, making the finishing touches to my wreath. I pull both ends together, fastening with the elastic that always lingers around my wrist. "I finished mine."

I draw Harry's attention to the creation between my hands. "Well, at least I tried. If you narrow your eyes hard enough, it looks good." I try to sell it to him, but he just shakes his head with a smirk.

He lets me adjust it on the top of his head, and I must admit it suits him better than I thought it would. "You look so pretty." I smile, gazing into the eyes that match the wreath so well.

It seems to me that time doesn't exist in this field. I've lost track of it, and don't even care to know how much we've spent laying on this blanket, surrounded by magic.

We lay on the grass for a while, just gazing up at the sky, and trying to make out the shapes. Harry's so adamant that the cloud above us looks like a puppy — a poodle in particular — but I keep fighting back and saying it's a dolphin. We've been having this debate for a longer period now.

"No, there's definitely an ear there. Can't you see?" He becomes more and more frustrated at the fact that I'm not giving in. I would usually take his side, but maybe I just love torturing him like this for a bit.

"Nope. It's the tail." I have my notepad laid in front of me, and I'm itching the ink onto the smooth pages.

"Don't be ridiculous, Amber. That's the small muzzle, and that's the collar." He's now dragging his finger up into the air, tracing over the shapes. Honestly, I see where he's going with it, but I act as if he's the one in the wrong.

"It's not, but okay." I shrug, acting as if I'm giving in, though he's not satisfied with my answer.

I flip onto the next page of the composition journal he gifted me a long time ago, and let my black-inked pen draw some words onto it.

'Maybe it's the way you say my name
Maybe it's the way you play your game'

I start off on a random sentence, writing them at an angle that Harry can't read.

"Listen." He starts again, and it's taking everything within me to not start laughing. "If you just squint hard enough, you'll definitely see it."

'But it's so good, I've never known anybody like you
But it's so good, I've never dreamed of nobody like you'

I continue my scribbles, letting out a disapproving hum. He tries to peek into the page I'm writing on, but the flower wreath falls onto his eyes instead. I might've made it a little too big for his head.

'Cause I'm in a field of dandelions
Wishing on every one that you'll be mine'

"Will you let me see?" He tries to steal another glance inside the page, but I close it almost shut.

"Nope. You'll probably hear it one day, though." I reveal, continuing with my scribbles. They're more just random thoughts and confessions but eventually create a potential lyric progression.

'And I see forever in your eyes
I feel okay when I see you smile'

"Oh, is that so?" His eyes light up, making his grin spread wider. My stomach flips once again. "We missed the sunrise, though. Probably when we decided to take a nap. I knew we shouldn't have."

"It's okay." I move my pen faster, my head becoming cloudy from trying to concentrate on two places at the same time. "We have a few more

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