We’ve been best friends for as long as I can remember. Before all of this—before the band, before the noise, before my name became anything to strangers—you were already a part of me. You’ve always been the one person who never treated me differently, who never wanted anything from me except… me.

Sometimes I think about those nights we’d spend lying on your trampoline, staring at the stars and making up constellations of our own. You’d point at the sky, weaving some story about how we’d travel the world one day, and I’d laugh because secretly, I couldn’t imagine going anywhere without you. Or the afternoons we’d spend in the corner of your room, music playing low, just talking about everything and nothing. Those were the moments I carried with me when I was miles away—when the lights were blinding, when the voices got too loud. You were always the quiet in my storm.

But somewhere along the way, it changed. I changed. I started to notice how your laugh could cut through the darkest day, how your smile had this way of pulling me back in when I felt lost. How, when I hugged you goodbye, I never wanted to let go. I told myself it was nothing, that I couldn’t risk ruining us. But then I’d come back from tour, and there you’d be—smiling like I hadn’t missed a thing—and it would hit me all over again.

The other night, it was unbearable. My phone sat in my hand for hours, the glow lighting up my room as I typed and erased, typed and erased. My chest was tight, my hands shaking, but I couldn’t keep it in anymore. So I sent it before I could stop myself.

“I like you. Not just as my best friend. More. Will you be my girlfriend?” The second it sent, my heart sank. What if I ruined everything? What if you didn’t feel the same? My thumb hovered over your name, ready to take it back, when the bubble popped up. You were typing. I swear I forgot how to breathe.

And then—your reply. “I like you too. I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” I read it over and over, the words blurring because my eyes were stinging. Relief, happiness, disbelief—it all came crashing into me at once. But still, it didn’t feel real until I saw you.

So I walked to your house. Every step felt heavier than the last. The streets were quiet, the kind of stillness that makes your heart beat louder in your ears. I almost turned back twice. My palms were sweating, my mind racing with every worst-case scenario.

But then I saw you. Standing there under the streetlight in your hoodie, hair messy, arms crossed against the night air. You were waiting for me. And when our eyes met, you smiled that smile—the one that’s only ever been mine.

“Did you mean it?” you asked softly when I reached you. My voice shook, but my heart knew the truth. “Yeah. I meant it. Be my girlfriend.” It wasn’t a grand speech, just four words, but they held everything I’d never been able to say. And when you whispered “yes,” the rest of the world fell away.

I didn’t even realize I’d taken your hand until I felt your fingers slip through mine, warm and steady, grounding me in a way nothing else ever had. You stepped closer, the kind of small step that said everything words couldn’t. My other arm found its way around you, pulling you in, and suddenly we were hugging like we always did—but it was different. This time, I held on because I could. Because you were mine now, and I was yours.

I leaned back just enough to see your face, the streetlight catching the curve of your smile. You looked at me like I was home, like I’d been yours long before tonight. And before I could stop myself, I pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, my heart pounding like it might burst. You laughed quietly, almost shy, and whispered, “Took you long enough.”

I grinned, cheeks burning, but I didn’t look away. “Worth the wait though, yeah?” And when you nodded, eyes bright with something I’d never seen before, I knew it for certain. Life could change a thousand times. The band, the tours, the world—it would all keep spinning. But you… you’d always be my constant. For the first time, I wasn’t Harry from the band.