“Good morning!”

A few days ago, Harry had stepped back on American soil — Los Angeles, to be exact. He was still technically on a break from music, spending the last few years traveling through Europe and trying to live a quieter life.

Last year, during his hiatus, he’d attended a concert in London by a relatively new artist… and he’d been completely taken. Her charisma, her aesthetic, her talent, her beauty — everything about her had caught him off guard the second she stepped onto the O2 Arena stage.

That same night, Harry met her backstage. He asked questions that probably no one had asked her before — not because he wanted to impress her, but because he genuinely wanted to know her. In just a few minutes, she had completely changed something in him.

They followed each other on Instagram. They started talking. Every day. For months.

And now, with her new album out and the world falling in love with her just like he did… there he was, standing inside the Columbia Records building in Los Angeles — a place he hadn’t been in over two years.

Why? To bring her flowers.

Could he have just sent them? Of course. But that would mean not seeing her. And Harry desperately wanted to see her again after months of DMs and just one in-person meeting.

He walked through the hallway, bouquet in hand, until he reached the reception desk, smiling softly. When the woman behind it asked who the flowers were for, he simply replied —

“Oh, no. I’ll give them to her myself.”

And just like that, he stood there — holding a massive bouquet of sunflowers, big enough to cover his face — because to him, that’s what she deserved.

Did he have a massive crush? Obviously. Was it mutual? God, he hoped so.