Clandestine {Harry Styles Fanfiction}

Part 8

                  This is my favorite chapter so far to write so I hope you like it:))

Thank you so much for all of the support you've given me. You guys are amazing. xx     

Enjoy:))                                                             

                                                                              Madeline

“It’s so big,” I whispered to Harry. I gazed out over the expanse of London. The lights were shining as far as I could see.

He chuckled and I looked up at him. His green eyes shone with mirth. I socked his arm gently, “Hey! Don’t make fun of me. I’m not used to big cities! I’m a hillbilly.”

Harry continued to grin, “But you’re a cute hillbilly.”

I smiled at his complement, unsure of what to say. Instead I turned and poked one of his dimples. This made him laugh, the dimples becoming even more prominent on his face.

Harry had gotten us a private “capsule” as they liked to call them. Advantages of being a celebrity, I guess. The view from the London Eye was incredible. London was laid out like a blanket below us, a fabric of swirling lights and colors.

Both Harry and I were silent for a moment, just admiring the view. I became lost in thought, twirling a strand of my long hair around my index finger. My thoughts drifted to Isabelle. I was mortified because of what she'd revealed out loud to Harry's band mates and friends. But I also felt guilty, because I'd brought it all on myself. I'd lied to her.

Growing up, Isabelle and I were almost like sisters. I only saw her four times a year, since she lived in England and I in America. Every summer, I went to stay with her and her parents for three weeks, and every Christmas her parents shipped her to America to stay with our Grandparents. Since neither of us had siblings, she was the closest thing I had to a sister. Isabelle used to say that she couldn’t stand America, that Europeans were more polished. But I think the real reason she didn’t like America was because she got homesick, kind of how I was in London.

“She’s jealous, you know,” Harry startled me when he spoke, though his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?”

“Isabelle. That’s why she embarrassed you in front of my friends. She’s jealous,” Harry’s breath tickled my hair. He was right behind me.

I turned to face him in astonishment, “Of me?”

Harry laughed softly, his eyes meeting mine. He placed his arms on either side of me, supporting himself on the beams of the capsule while I leaned against the window, facing him. I could see the bulging muscles of his defined biceps through his blazer.

“Yeah, of you.”

Why would the girl who had everything be jealous of me? Isabelle was as close to perfect as a human being could get. She was gorgeous, famous, wealthy.

“She has everything,” I murmured.

“Not everything,” Harry said softly, brushing a piece of hair out of my eyes with his warm fingers. His face was very close to mine, his green eyes melting into mine.

What did I have that Isabelle was jealous of?

I realized that our ride on the London Eye was almost over. I slid away from Harry and turned back to the window, trying to soak in the remainder of the mesmerizing view of London. Harry stood next to me. I could feel his eyes on me but I didn’t return his gaze.