Still British

He walked over to me and pulled me into his chest. It felt brilliant, and one hundred percent normal. I just kept crying, now into his shirt, probably ruining it. But I couldn’t care. Then I tuned into what was going on. He was singing to me, but what was it? I dunno, just a song… It sounded so right in his voice…. Could it be a song from his band? Hearing him sing, it made me sadder, but it also calmed me. I was soon just tearstained and sad. No longer crying, I pulled away from him. He hugged me to him for another moment, then put me at arm’s length and kissed my forehead.
I looked up at him, flinching at the look in his eyes. I turned my gaze back to the ground. “What was that you were singing?” I asked quietly. He chuckled expectantly.
“I should’ve known. You were never ‘hip’ or ‘trendy’, even at a young age. Why would you know about the world’s current most popular boy band? That was a song from my band, One Direction, called Half a Heart. It’s how I felt, with you gone. Now I’m whole.” I smiled at his cheesy-ness. He really was my Harry.
I looked up, half a smile on my face, and spoke. “Me too.” He grinned. “So… what did you hear?” I asked, dreading the answer.
He chuckled again. “I think it was just about the whole thing… let me see.” He said, grabbing my iPod. I groaned, shaking my head, and turned away. “Whoa, where are you going?” He asked, a little frantic. I shrugged. “I only just got you back, I am not letting you go just yet. Stay. Please? For me?” He calmed down as he spoke, and I had to stay. I knew where he was coming from. He pressed play. I flinched as my voice came through on the recording. He noticed. “What, don’t like the sound of your voice on tape?” He asked, and I frowned.
“More like I don’t like the sound of my voice at all…” I muttered, and, of course, he heard me. Just my luck.
“WHAT!” He seemed shocked, and almost… angry? Why? I wasn’t any good at singing, so why did it matter? I wasn’t pursuing a career in music, so it really didn’t matter. I told him so. “Right.” He said, and took my iPod. He… he… he went to his email? Why… HARRY STYLES I WILL KILL YOU! I thought as I watched him open it up and email the recording to his whole band. Then tweeted about it.
“Harold Edward Styles.” I said, and he looked down at me with these adorable emerald eyes that just killed me. “Why are you still staring at me?” I asked, as it went on for a ridiculous amount of time.

Notes

I am so sorry! I was totally going to update on Sundays, and then I totally forgot! Forgive me! Anyway (which is a word, it's anyways that isn't), I don't know about the weather where you live, but where I live it's no longer summer, and since this part of my story's in summer, I'd like to finish it up soon and get into and autumn/winter section. No, I'm not going to end it once the 'summer' is over! I'll get a few chapters up today, and I am really sorry! The end of the quarter is coming up at school, too, so I might be a bit busy! But I haven't forgotten (at least, not completely), and I don't think I'll ever give up on this story... Thank you so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
~Stormy