I found myself in a meadow. The meadow, to be exact. I’m not sure how I know this when I’m dreaming, but I just know. There was no pushing past a crowd to get here; I just found myself, aimlessly picking at the grass in front of the small girl I had come to know in my past dreams.

I tried to take in her facial features, but all I could see was a blur. However I took notice in her brown hair, pulled up into a small bun atop her head, her off white dress, soon to be kissed by dirt from where her but meets the ground.

She had been picking at the dandelions, blowing their seeds out into the wind as she watched in fascination. Her head turned, meeting my eyes directly. I froze. Could she see me?

“I know you… You’re the lady chasing me. Who are you?” she spoke. Her voice was faint at first, but it grew louder as she spoke.

I willed my voice to speak, but no words escaped. My hands flew up to my throat, trying to figure out my loss of speech. I tried to croak out even the simplest of sounds, but found myself mute.

“Have you lost your voice?” Sighing, but not sighing, I nod my head. “Oh.” She tilted her head to the side, furrowing her eyebrows questioningly. The next thing I know, she gasped, making her head upright, picking the nearest dandelion. I watched as she squeezed her eyes shut, scrunching her face together before blowing the flower as if it were a birthday candle on a birthday cake. “Try to talk now.”

“What?” I ask. I gasp. Words came out of my mouth. Why the sudden change in dreams.

“I wished that I would be able to talk to you,” the girl smiled brightly, satisfied in her achievement.

“You have quite the wishful thinking,” I joke.

“What’s wishful thinking?” she asks me.

“It’s like-”

“Ana? Where are you sweetheart?” the familiar, yet unfamiliar, woman called from the hill.

“I’m right here, mom!” She stood up and looked at me. “Oh my, I have to go. “Will I ever see you again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Well, bye then.” I waved, confused at the girl.

“Wait!” I yelled as she started to walk away with her mother. “I never got your name!”

“HARMONY!”

“AHH!!!” I shoot up. My forehead collides instantly with the face lingering over me. I groan in sync with the other person; my face scrunches up to make the pain subside.

“Fuck! Are you okay?” Harry’s distressed but hurt voice asks me. I feel his hands on either side of my head, his eyes probably looking for a sign of hurt.

“Does it look like I’m okay? My head is pounding.” I move my index finger and thumb to hold the bridge of my nose. I hear him sigh before I’m lifted up out of the comfort of the bed. My eyes shoot open. “What are you doing? Put me down!”

“I’m taking you to get ice. Don’t worry,” he tells me. I look down at the flight of stairs and regret what I see. I bury my head into Harry’s chest, closing my eyes shut again, and wrap my arms securely around the back of his neck.

“We’re going to fall down these stairs,” I start to panic. All I can hear is him chuckling before I feel his feet thumping down the stairs. I manage a squeak and push myself deeper into his chest.

“What happened? We heard screaming. Did you hurt her?” I hear Zayn’s defensive voice beside me. By the sound of quiet footsteps, I can tell we’ve finally reached downstairs.

“No. I just startled her and then our foreheads collided,” Harry says.

I scoff. “If be startled you mean scared me half to death!” I hear a low click noise before a gust of chilly air hits my side. I shiver and try to pull down the long t-shirt that has ridden up since I last remembered.

I feel myself being set down on the cold countertop, and I open my eyes to the feeling of freezing cold temperature to my forehead. I watch Harry as he carefully compresses the icepack to my head, causing the pain to swell down.

“Better?” he asks. I somewhat nod my head. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“I’m sorry I screamed,” I say faintly. He brushes some of my hair away from my face. “Don’t you have work today?”

“Not exactly, but I have some stuff I have to do,” he said casually.

“For some reason I feel like your hiding something still… Does this have something to do with the premiere tomorrow? Because if it does you can just tell me.”

“Yes and no. It’s kinda for the premiere tomorrow, but it’s not at the same time. As much as I would love to tell you, I can’t tell you nor do I want to,” he smiles cheekily at me. I poke his face, knowing it irritates him and hop of the counter.

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Because I can’t,” he counters. His words upset me. ‘Because I can’t.’ What is that supposed to mean?

“Can’t or won’t, because there is a big difference between the two. Or maybe you just don’t want to tell me.”

“I just can’t.” He sighs. “Please don’t cry; I don’t like it when you cry.” I hadn’t even noticed that tears had started to spill. I wipe them away with the back of my hand. “It will all make sense by tomorrow, but for now, I need you to trust me. You trust me right?”

I choke back some of the tears. “I always trust you Harry; I just don’t like the secrets.” My voice is small, but it’s enough to get the point across.

All he does is nod and press a delicate kiss to my forehead before the other boys call him off. I stand there in the cold, empty space rubbing my arms to get warmth. I don’t know what exactly is happening, but I’m not too fond of the secret keeping.

I’ve always despised secrets. Secrets can make or break a person, and I sure as hell don’t want to be broken. That’s why I have no secrets; I’m practically an open book if you look past the family tree.

I’m not even aware of how long I stayed standing there until Perrie’s arms wiggle their way around my torso. I turn into my friend and start to sob. Maybe I’m just over exaggerating, or I’m just being hormonal, but I can’t stand that Harry is keeping secrets from me.

“Perrie, why is Harry keeping secrets from me?” I say when I’ve managed to control my tear flow.

“Oh, honey, he’s not keeping anything from you; he’s just… he’s… um… it’s not really my place to say, but I can assure you there is nothing wrong. Harry loves you, and he trusts you, so trust him and trust me on this.”

“I hate when you’re right. I don’t care how many times I have to say it, but I truly hate when you’re right.”

“I know I am. Now, get ready because we’re going out.”

I groan. “Again? But we were just out yesterday!”

“Yes, but we need to get our nails done for tomorrow, and your nails…” she picked my hands up to inspect them, “… need some work.”

I scoff, pulling my hand away from her reach. “They aren’t that bad… I just chipped off the paint from last time and it looks messy.”

“Exactly.”

~

“White? Just white? No designs, sparkles, anything?” El asked in wonder as she examined my nails that had previously been painted a simple shade of white.

“Yeah. Is it illegal or something? I’m sorry for breaking the laws of nail care,” I say continuing to walk aimlessly with Perrie through the mall.

“Stop it with the sarcasm; you know I hate sarcasm,” El wagged her index finger in my face. I bit her finger causing her to gasp and jump back. “Ew! Don’t bite my finger! That’s not sanitary.”

“Are you admitting to not having proper hand hygiene? Shame on you El; shame on you. As for my nails, yes they are white. Deal with it.” Perrie tugs on my arm and points in the direction of Forever 21.

“No. I always get lost in that store!” I complain.

“Oh, shut it. I’ll hold your hand; don’t act like you don’t love it,” she tells me. I groan once more before she pulls me into the store against my own will.