Ready To Run // h.s

three

.

.

mia

.

.

"I'm dead. I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm so dead." I panicked out loud. I was currently sitting beside Harry Styles in a rental RV escaping from my forced marriage and there was no doubt in my mind that as soon as my parents found me, I'd be a dead woman.

"Relax, breathe." Harry prompted. I nodded and breathed in and out once. "See? Not dead."

Even though what he said was rather funny, I didn't laugh. I was still having an episode and a panic attack as well. What would my mother and father think when they found out that I ran away? I could just imagine the horror stricken on their faces and my stomach flopped.

We had just finished rescuing my luggage from my mother's car. It was originally supposed to be coming along with me on my exotic honeymoon in Cancun, but now it would be accompanying me on a road trip with a famous boyband member.

"I'm so insane." I laid my head in my hands. "I just ran away from my fricken wedding with Harry fricken Styles and I think I'm going to fricken puke." I felt a hand rub my back in a comforting sort of way and tried my best to compose myself.

"You could say thanks." Harry interjected. I flushed a light pink and mumbled a thank-you. There were so many unanswered questions that I had for this man but none that reached my lips. They all stayed jumbled in the back of my mind and buzzed around like little flies. Why would he do something like this for me? I had never witnessed this kindness before, it was completely foreign to me.

"I'm sorry." I apologized quickly.

"Take your time." He reassured me. "You just ran from your own wedding, you have an excuse." He pursed his lips and I could see his eyes wandering to the mud that was now on the hem of my expensive gown.

"I just ran from my own wedding." I said. "I just ran from my own wedding." My body was tingling and burning all over and I was sure that I was having a panic attack.

"If it helps, we can just say I stole you from your wedding." Harry added. "Don't worry, alright? I'm going to help you out, I promise you."

"Why?" I blurted. "I realize that we had drinks together and clicked a bit, but don't you think that this is a bit extreme? How did you find me? How did you find my dressing room? How did you even do all this?"

"Calm down." The famous curly haired stranger said. "Just answer one question for me, okay?"

In the midst of all the panicking going around in my head and the feeling of bile rising in my throat from my nerves, I managed to nod my head. He pursed his lips and stared me down, otherwise making me feel extremely intimidated if it weren't for the softness in his eyes.

"Mia, did you want to get married?" The tone of voice he used was soft, almost like velvet.

My mouth was dry. Here I was, in this giant bus with Harry Styles and a wedding dress that was caught in the passenger side door, trying to answer a question that had an obvious answer but still couldn't reach my lips. All of the events from today made me want to burst into tears, but I was too self conscious in front of this man to do so.

He raised his eyebrows. I dropped my gaze.

"Mia, please." He asked.

"No." I mumbled. "No, I didn't."

"So why were you?" He pressed on. I'd probably start to get annoyed if this weren't the man that just saved me from possibly the worst mistake of my life.