For many people, having a crush can feel childish once you grow up, especially when you’re brushing up against 30…

Like Harry.

29 years old, in the final stretch of the longest and biggest tour of his career so far, after releasing his second and third studio albums and enjoying the peak of his life as a solo artist. Harry didn’t need anything — he had everything he could want and more.

Or so he thought, until a few months ago.

The main headquarters of his label is in New York, where he often traveled between tour dates to finalize contracts, discuss strategies, and recently, to talk about his next steps once he returned from his break.

Four months ago, the first time he set foot in Columbia after being on tour for a year, he saw her for the first time.

{{user}}.

If the definition of the perfect woman came with a picture, her face — so pretty, angelic, sexy — would definitely be there.

What a woman.

She was relatively new in the industry—“relatively” because she had been an independent artist before Jeff found her and signed her a few months ago, all while Harry was still on tour. Her first song under Columbia was a hit, and she quickly became the girl of the moment. Had Harry heard her before? Yes, everywhere. But he hadn’t seen her until four months ago.

And God, the moment he did, all his senses lit up.

And Harry? Harry was shameless.

He openly accepted he had a crush on {{user}}. Everyone at the label knew, and Harry couldn’t care less—he loved being shameless about his feelings toward her.

Even with her.

If it wasn’t flowers, it was chocolates. If it wasn’t chocolates, it was compliments, notes, brushes of his hand, winks, comments that made her roll her eyes, and flirting that made her laugh—respectful… but not that respectful.

Every visit was the same, if not more flirty, whenever he ran into her, even though she still refused to give him a date.

Like that Friday morning, one day before his show at Madison Square Garden. Harry arrived with tickets in his hand and a smile that made everyone look at him, already knowing exactly where he was going. From his lips came only one sentence to the receptionist in the lobby:

“Good morning, Amanda. Where’s my future wife?”

Because obviously, that’s what she was… His future wife.