A M E R I C A
"I'm Harry and you must be wondering why I am here. Well, uhh…" He scratches his neck. "There's this incredible lady that I met days ago and she's sitting right over there."
Harry pointed which made everyone turn to our table.
"Oh my god." I smiled shyly as they were smiling back at me before looking back at Harry.
"She's Merry." Harry smiles at me.
"What are you doing?" I mouthed to him
Harry chuckles softly, "She trusted me even though I couldn't trust myself with things that I didn't know I could do. She's more proud of me than I can be proud of myself. She believed in me that I had a talent and I kind of did something that hurt her. I just want to sing this song that I wrote for her."
Some people whooped for Harry which makes me smile but my heart warms up when he just told the entire people here that he wrote a song for me. He freaking wrote a song for me.
Actions. Harry is not all talk. Zion's voice echoes through my ears and it makes me smile.
Harry started plucking strings of the guitar for his intro and it gave me old school vibe from it, "Same lips red, same eyes blue. Same white shirt, couple more tattoos. It's not you and it's not me. "
I watch how he lick his lips before continuing to sing, "Taste so sweet, look so real. Sounds like something that I used to feel, but I can't touch what I see."
I watch how his brows creasing in the middle of his forehead, "We're not who we used to be. We're not who we used to be. We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me."
His eyes glued on mine, "Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat."
Harry focus his attention back on his guitar as he plucks the strings again with his lips subtly pursed before pulls his head back close to the microphone, "The fridge light washes this room white. Moon dances over your good side, this was all we used to need. Tongue-tied like we've never known, telling those stories we already told 'cause we don't say what we really mean."
"We're not who we used to be. We're not who we used to be. We're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me." He shuts his eyes as his brows crease again. "We're not who we used to be. We're not who we used to be. We're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.
Harry continues to serenade the other customers who are also enjoying his music and they were really getting entertained. I can see how talented he is and I really hope he can see it too and I hope he can be more proud of this because he is absolutely musically inclined even if he hates music so much. He can make people fall in love with his voice and his lyrics were really meaningful as it already is. I know there's so much deeper meaning with this song and it is not only about me, but it's mostly about him.
"I'm just trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat." Harry locks his eyes on me and ends the song with his dimpled smile.
I was moved by his music as I clapped with the rest of the customers in Trattola who obviously loved watching him play and listening to him sing. "Thank you," He says to crowd before he placed the guitar down, grabbed his phone and walked back to our table while people were complimenting him as he genuinely thanked them with his handsome smile. He finally takes the seat right across me with his cheeky grin plastered on his face.
"That was shocking." I commented.
He pushes his hair behind his ear, "I don't know why I did that but I wanted to."
I smiled, "What was the title of that song?"
"Two Ghosts." He answers.
"It was meaningful. You did really great out there." I can't help but compliment him so I instantly cursed at myself in the back of my head as I pressed my lips together. "I'm sorry I complimented you again. I know you hate being praised."
Harry shakes his head, "I didn't get pissed at you because you were complimenting me America."
I pulled my head back up and stared at him, "Then why were you pissed at me?"
"I just didn't like being reminded of a person that I have always hated He's the reason why I hate music and why I hate playing." His voice sounded stern as he glued his eyes on his food. "I have never wanted to be in touch with music because of him." Harry pulled his head up and looked at me, "I don't really want to talk about him. I'm sorry."
I shake my head sideways as I smile at him. "It's okay, you don't have to." I tell Harry calmly. Now I know a part of the reason why he hates music and why he hates playing instruments. Music reminds him of this certain person that made him hate music and singing. But who could it be and what has he done that made Harry, an absolutely talented man, utterly hate music?
"Can I ask you a question?" I asked shyly.
He nods at me, "Of course."
"Why did you play for these people tonight?"
Harry paused for a while as he locked his eyes on me, "Because every time I look at you, you make me want to sing again."
I smiled shyly, "I thought Harry was not an all talk?"
Harry chuckles to himself, "I cannot believe you are using my own words at me."
I grinned. "Touché."
Harry poured me a glass of wine before he poured himself a glass. "Harry."
He looks back at me, "Yes?"
"Let's spend the rest of the night in Pacific Beach." I say out of the blue and I don't know why I said that but Harry looks so happy.
He smirks at me, "Is the red wine making you all hot? Are you implying to have beach sex with me tonight?" He says jokingly while wiggling his brows at me.
I gaped as I scoff, "Excuse me? I just—"
"Relax. Relax." He cuts me off while he chuckles. "I was just joking."
"Sometimes I doubt if you're genuinely nice at all because you're usually so smug." I tell.
He laughs under his throat, "I am… a good mix of both." Harry stares at me deeply, "I'm not going to touch you without asking your permission."
I squint my eyes at him, "So you're saying that you actually believe that I will allow you to touch me the way you want to?"
Harry shows me his dimpled and deadly mischievous smirk. "I have my hopes up."
"Don't get your hopes up, you'll just get disappointed."
He rests his back on the chair, "You better be careful not to eat your own words sooner or later."
"Don't worry, I won't." I smiled back at him, reassuringly.