Learning to Love (Harry & Ariana)

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Harry's POV

"Harry, thanks for saving my little girl."

"Harry? Hazz?" Ariana is shaking my shoulder, I'm still staring at the spot where her mom stood a minute ago.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I'm fine, yeah." she doesn't look convinced so I kiss her cheek and walk with her back to the car.

When she's settled in the car and has her seatbelt on, I ask her if she's got everything.

"Yeah, I'm sure, I checked over everything a million times," she pauses "are you okay?"

"Love, I said I'm fine. What did you call me earlier?" I say while pulling out of the driveway.

"What? When?" she looks over at me.

"When you were trying to get my attention, you called me Harry, then you called me something else."

"Hazz?"

"Yeah, I like that." I say smiling, I look over at her and she's smiling too.

"How long is the drive to the airport?" she asks as I'm turning out of her neighborhood.

"Ummm, almost 2 hours I think." I check the clock, it's almost 11:00am now. "Our flight leaves at 3:00pm."

"Alright, how long is it?" she asks as she fixes her top so it doesn't show as much cleavage, not like I minded though.

"Well we're doing a 2 way. We fly from here, which is New York incase you forgot," she swats me on the arm. "Ow, anyways, we fly from here to Asheville, North Carolina, which is an hour and a half, give or take a few. We have a 2 hour delay, and then we fly from North Carolina to Orlando Florida which is a little over an hour. I was going to do a one way but I like the idea of looking around Asheville with you."

"Time spent with you is time well spent." she says.

"I couldn't agree more."

....

Ariana's POV

Our 2 hour and 11 minute drive, including stops, consisted of bad knock knock jokes from Harry, me singing to the radio, Harry complaining about bad drivers, and us just talking about, well, us.

He told me this story about his mom, his favorite memory of her.

"We were at the beach, her and I, I was only 11. Jason wasn't even born yet. My mom was beautiful, unconventionally beautiful. She had tan skin and dark brown hair that was a little past her shoulders. That day she had it up in a messy bun," he sneaked a glance at me, "like how yours is right now."

"We were at the beach and she had a green swimsuit that matched her eyes and some roman sandals on. I just had some blue swim shorts on, and my hair wasn't nearly this long and luscious," and I laughed which made him smile, "We spent hours in the ocean and walked around for a while. I remember she bought me ice cream and let me take pictures of her doing silly poses with her camera. Anyways, we were there for two days, she booked a hotel room for just the two of us. I was never really close with my dad but for some reason it was like he was never there, this sounds terrible but especially that weekend. It was like he didn't even exist to me. The way I explained that weekend gives the actual experience no justice."

"No, no," I responded, "it sounds beautiful."

And it did, I could just imagine her in her swimsuit, posing as a young Harry snaps a picture of her. The perfect picture as the waves were in the background.

As we're unloading the car I pause for a minute.

"Harry," I ask, "did your mom have a dimple?"

"Yeah," he looks up at me, "she did. That was one of my favorite things about her. When she would smile and flash her dimple."