One Direction Imagines and Preferences Book 1

#159 Airports - Harry - NOT MINE

Harry: Your shoes squeak on the linoleum floor, your lungs burning from not enough oxygen, but you continue running, pushing between people in your mad rush to get through Heathrow airport, searching for the familiar security guards and five boys messing around, a group of fans who'd surely been tipped off that the band was leaving for Australia today surrounding them. The gate numbers grow and grow, until finally you're skidding to a stop in front of twenty one, a mass of people hiding the band from your view, and, for all you know, they could have already left, whisked off on a plane, leaving you to stay in London, not sure of where Harry is, if the relationship is really over, what you could have said if you had the time, whether he would have accepted your apology. Your gaze rises to the departure board, and all you can see are the words 'flight 317 - Departed'. Your heart sinks, your throat thickening up, and you can't believe you're about to cry in the middle of an airport, but Harry's gone, without you getting the chance to apologise, and maybe he'll find someone else while he's out in the world, someone better than you. "(Y/N)?" You jerk around, and none other than Harry Styles stands there, his curls messy, pink lips pulled into a wide grin. Your mind slows down, not registering anything, and then you're walking towards him, pressing your body into his, burying your face in his neck, the words coming out all disjointed and messy, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I love you. I really, really do, and I'm really, really sorry. What are you doing here? I thought you left, I'm sorry. I -" Harry's lips cut you off, his hands lacing in your hair, and when you pull back, his eyes are soft and warm, "I'm sorry, too."