styled ・Harry Styles

13.

The rest of our drive consists of us catching up with one another since we haven't seen each other since the last night of fashion week. I notice how we both skillfully avoid talking about the details of that night which actually makes me feel better about the whole thing. I've been beating myself up a bit for the lack of professionality I showed, but I'm glad to know that it's clearly not weighing on him. 

We make it to the airport relatively quickly, and our car takes us around the back directly to where the airplanes are. Someone comes over to our car to load our baggage onto the aircraft, and Harry and I hop out of the car to make our way on board. As soon as we step on the plane, Jeff pulls Harry aside to speak with him, leaving me to fend for myself as the rest of the crew starts to fill up the plane. I spot Cora's familiar face as she gets on board and I wave kindly at her as we make eye contact. The interaction is short lived, however, because she is almost immediately sucked into the conversation happening between Jeff and Harry. I decide to take the nearest open seat, not wanting to stand in the way as everyone else makes their way on. A few unfamiliar faces pass by and we all introduce ourselves to one another, making small talk before we depart. I'm a little less outgoing than I would normally be considering this is my first time flying in a private jet, and my nerves are running rampant because I have no idea if it will make takeoff better or worse for me. 

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I hear a British accent call my name from a few seats over. I look up to find Harry looking at me, and when our eyes meet he cocks a smile and tilts his head in a signal for me to come over to him. Cora and Jeff are walking toward the back of the plane as I walk up to Harry, so by the time I make it to his seat it's just the two of us.

"Sit with me?" He asks, motioning to the now empty seat next him. 

I pretend to think about it for a moment, as if I'm weighing my imaginary options. "Hmm, what's in it for me?" I question with a grin.

"Wonderful conversation." He quips back. 

I laugh as I plop down into the seat next to him. As soon as I get comfortable in the chair, I feel the airplane start moving as we taxi out to the runway.

"You feeling okay?" Harry asks.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I question nonchalantly.

"Because we're about to take off?" He explains.

I exhale a breath and turn to look at him a little bit. His eyes meet mine with a hint of concern laced through them. 

"I am nervous," I admit candidly, "but I know it'll be alright." I finish with a wink, repeating the words he's told me time and time again. 

Harry smiles slightly and nods in agreement. We sit in a comfortable silence until the plane engine roars to life and I habitually grab the armrest separating Harry's seat from mine. I close my eyes to try to calm my nerves, but they fly back open when I feel a hand envelope my own. I snap my head over to look at Harry, but I'm a little taken aback when I find that he's calmly looking out the window, apparently unbothered at the fact that his hand is resting on top of mine. My eyes dart between our hands and him several times before I realize that he's not going to directly acknowledge his action and I'm left with no choice but to give in to the comfort he's trying to offer. As the plane climbs to a higher altitude, there are a few jolts of turbulence here and there and whenever that happens, Harry's thumb traces a small circle on the top of my hand. 

Once we reach a smooth altitude, he casually retracts his hand and we spend the rest of the flight talking, reading, and napping. Thankfully, landing is much smoother than takeoff, and before I know it, we're all in cars heading over to the hotel that we'll be staying at for the next few days.