Dust Bones [Harry Styles]

028

        4:32AM

        I fell asleep through most of the flight. We traveled coach, trying to blend in as much as we could in a crowd of people who weren't so effortlessly blending with us.

        Harry wore a black sweatshirt that covered most of his tattoos, his thick curls pushed back into a knit hat. I hid my blonde hair in a black baseball hat we bought at a store in the airport. It felt somewhat more reassuring to find ways to hide my identity around the public. 

        In the plane, Harry had consistently worked on the files while I decided that the tiresome affect of no sleep was really taking over me. He insisted that I didn't have to help him, and being more than okay with that, I decided to sleep the stress off. 

        We arrived into the cooler temperatures of New York. JFK airport in New York City had various people waiting and getting on different flights even at four in the morning. Although I can barely keep my eyes open from the laziness my body carried, I manged somehow. My groggy, tired legs followed Harry as he went to get our luggage. 

        He handled both suitcases on either hands, not allowing me to help because he insisted that his injured arm was fine. I only went along with it because I doubt Harry even payed attention to physical pain. He seemed so effortlessly oblivious to it -- even on purpose. 

        Harry stood outside with my company to his side. He placed the luggage down for a second, nearly about to signal a taxi.

        I have been in New York before, so nothing was much of a surprise anymore. I'm more than pleased that we got away from that house in Brazil, or I would have lost my mind and all the sanity I've managed throughout my years. 

        He pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses, and he raised them to his face. I was watching the people, distracted by the things occurring around when Harry stopped and turned to me. I made brief eye contact with him as well, and my lips parted the second he placed the sunglasses on my face. 

        "You'll need them." Is all he said. 

        And so, in a taxi, I forced myself to stop thinking about our kiss. It meant nothing as of now, but that was maybe to him. I needed to know what was going on inside that complex mind of his, rather than my own that is tiring me with its constant overworking. 

        When he kissed me, I thought maybe he was changing a little. Now those thoughts are entirely different because he seems to show a careless disinterest in me now that it happened. I know he won't talk about it, because if I even so bring it up, I'm the idiot here automatically. 

        I can never win with him. All I knew was while I sat in that taxi with him, our bodies far apart on either sides, I never wanted to be kissed more than I do now.

        "Where are we staying?" I asked him, racking my brain for something to say then let myself grow absolutely miserable inside of my own head. 

        Harry didn't make eye contact with me. He would rather stare out the window and frown with his unnecessary displeasure to everything. 

        "Your father owns a building Zayn and I cornered with security five months ago. It has some of the most modern forms of security out there. Fingerprint scanning across every surface. Facial scanning and sensors on every entrance possible." Harry explains briefly, leaning back into his seat. 

        I sat there not as surprised as I would have been before if I hadn't been so used to these things already. "How long, do you think, until they actually find us again?"