Infatuated (hsau)

chapter 27.

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Now you're lost
Lost in the heat of it all
Girl you know you're lost
Lost in the thrill of it all
Miami, Amsterdam, Tokyo, Spain, lost
Los Angeles, India, lost on a train, lost
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Harry Styles

Last night's events were a blur after Harlow got up out of her office and left me there with a painful erection. It was the talking french that really made things worse. I have no clue what she said, for all I know she was telling me she hates me but it was so hot.

I was stone cold sober too, stone cold sober telling a girl she's beautiful and that I care about her. Something isn't adding up. She does things to me.

The girl could honestly take out a mortgage in my brain based on the amount of time she spends in my thoughts. Rent. Fucking. Free.

Two painkillers and three bottles of water and I've managed to drag myself downstairs fully dressed. Still Harlow was running circles around my mind, first it was her blue eyes, then her smile, then her attitude that does nothing but make me smile. The list goes on, I can't stop thinking about her and it's driving me mad.

She's just different, I don't know how. I mean she wears her makeup and does all the typical girl things I'll never understand, but then her personality and interests fascinate me. Perhaps it's just because we share the same music taste and she plays piano and I play guitar. It just has me absolutely fascinated.

That's when I remembered the piano in the storage room that I shoved in there when I moved here. I used to play when I was younger but I stopped when I started with the gang. I bought myself a piano for my first house because I thought I'd still be good at it, but I wasn't and since then I've just shoved it away because I don't want to get rid of it.

Maybe it's time she came back out to play.

It took all my strength to push it out of that room and against the empty wall in my living room. It quite literally sweated the hangover out of me, that was a work out in itself. Once it was in line with where I wanted it I just decided to sit with my back against it and push with my legs.

15 minutes later it's there ready to play and I'm sat on the stool trying to remember something that isn't twinkle twinkle little star or Mary had a little lamb.

Yeah, I've got nothing.

How Harlow plays that complicated stuff without even looking at the music in front of her I'll never know, that's a real talent. I can't even read sheet music so the fact she can just look at those books and start playing what they say amazes me, same with classical musicians. It's an art form, a true art form.

I pulled up a YouTube tutorial on how to play a song called 'Le Festin' because it said it was easy and it's french I presume which automatically stuck out to me because of Harlow.

It was actually pretty easy to follow however I soon realised it was actually just the Ratatouille theme song and I'm just stupid.

I picked the acoustic one up that was lying on my sofa from before I left for the club last night and started strumming away on that. I was halfway through writing a song last night however I didn't write down the lyrics I had in my head and that really has to be one of the worst feelings ever.

Even as I'm sat here strumming away to the tune of Wonderwall, my default guitar song apparently, my mind still wanders to her. I keep thinking of how I could almost see through her eyes into that brain of hers and see the cogs turning, the thoughts spinning through her mind each time I said something to her.