From The Dining Table [H.S]

6 More Days

Harry's POV:

I left Primrose's house shortly after that, and went to pack up my things in the hotel. The journey home was short, easy. That aching stress of wondering what would happen had vanished, I had my final song for the album, and things finally were working out for Prim and I.

I called Mitch on the train, and told him I'd do a Skype call and sing him the song. It's difficult having your band mates in a different country, it makes things like recording extremely difficult at time's. But my team is so professional, I'm thankful to have such amazing people working with me.

Driving back to my house, I threw different dates around my head for when Primrose could come and stay. My album is released to the public May 12th, which is exactly a month and 4 days away. If today's the 8th April, I'll need a week to add the finishing touches to songs, and finalise promotion posters and things. I'll also need to dedicate a few days to interviews and radio appearances. Shit! I still need to finalise tour ideas, which will be a long, stressful series of meetings.

So, it seems like if I can get this final song down by tonight, and spend the next week finalising the album... P can stay on the 17th April. That's perfect!

Pulling into my drive, the familiar feeling of home engulfs my body. It's late at night, but not so late I can't write a song. Unlocking my front door, I toss my bag on the floor and head straight to my music room. Taking my guitar off it's stand, I position my phone on my desk and call Mitch.

*ring ring*

"Harry! Hey bro, how was the trip?" Mitch says warmly, smiling at me.

"Was amazing. But I'll tell you tomorrow. We need to get this song down. I have all the lyrics, and the only instrument I need is my acoustic guitar." I say proudly.

Mitch raises his eyebrows at me, shocked at how quickly I've come up with a song. "Only a guitar?" He questions.

"Yeah, I want it to sound raw. Like I'm sat with my guitar, singing to her." I explain, readjusting my guitar strap.

"Her?" He grins.

"I- not now Mitch! Okay, so are you ready to hear the lyrics?" I ask.

"Sing to me!"

Clearing my throat, I began to sing the lyrics to him - strumming occasionally on the guitar. Mitch watched intently, slowly nodding his head along to the beat of my words. I have no idea if he likes it - quite frankly I don't care. Well, I appreciate feedback. But I'm more than certain about this song, and it's going on the album.

After I finished singing, there was a short silence between us. Mitch gazed into the distance, looking deep in thought. I just fiddled with the strings on the guitar.

"It's deep." Mitch says abruptly, still staring into the distance. "I love it." He says, turning to face me.

"Thank you, man. Appreciate it." I smile back, relieved he likes it. "Did you like the guitar?" I ask.

"Harry, I love it. It's beautiful. It's raw, passionate, shows your vulnerable side. I love it. Can't wait for the team to hear it." He tells me, and my stomach flutters with excitement. "Shall we record it?"

I choke on my spit at the stupid question. Record it - now? He must be daft! "Over facetime?" I question.

"Yeah. You're in your home recoding studio. I'll just mute myself so I don't disrupt the track. It's perfect. The sooner we get a recording, the sooner it's on the album." He reasons.

Without hesitating, I lean forward and begin setting up my recorder. It takes about 5 minutes, but once the microphone was connected I gave Mitch a thumbs up - his queue to mute himself.