Matilda | Harry Styles

THIRTY-SIX

I yearned to pull his sunglasses from his face so that I could see his eyes, properly, and be greeted with the warmth they provided even in piercing through me, but I didn't want to risk increasing his chances of being spotted - I'd told him in the car that his 'disguise' wasn't exactly the most deceptive thing I'd ever seen, but he'd insisted I'd be surprised at how well it could occasionally work. I remembered how he'd insisted we wore them on our first date in LA, and it caused a fond twist in my chest to see him utilising the very same pair, now.

I briefly brought my hand upwards to rest upon the side of his face, smoothing my thumb over his cheek, just once, in a silent gesture, hoping that I was giving him the confirmation he was seeking. I was okay - more than okay, with him here. I watched his lips twitch into a tiny grin, as he drew me closer to him, my back now pressed against his chest as his arm now entirely enveloped me. I leaned back against the steadiness of him behind me, the back of my head resting against him as I felt his other arm come to join his first one, wrapping around my body from behind me. I blew out a gentle, relaxed breath as we waited in our position in line, and I felt his lips press to my hair in a soft movement.

I'd never get used to how light everything felt when he was around. It didn't make sense to me; the way that everything seemed to evaporate, all worries lifted from my shoulders the moment I felt his presence, there. I wondered if he knew he could do that; if it was some, magical skill he had. Harry just felt so safe. I'd never known anything like it.

He kissed my temple, now, and I closed my eyes, relying on his weight behind me to support me. And he did - he always did. I didn't want to feel so unsure, or afraid - I wanted to just be here, with him, to have our week. Our week, without complications, and without my wretched overthinking - just him and I.

He placed the smallest of touches on me as we navigated our way onto the plane, as he always did. It was one of my favourite things; something I'd never have expected before him. I'd noticed his inclinations to touch me from the moment our relationship had began - at the time, I'd almost wondered if it was some sort of over-compensation, then; making up for lost time that we'd spent refusing to even sit within a foot of one another. But, now, having been with him for longer, I realised that was just how he was, with me, and I adored it - every part of it. I'd grown obsessed with how his hand would always graze over the small of my back whenever we'd walk alongside one another, or how his hand would nudge mine, or even dart out to gently move my hair from my face when we'd stop moving. It was something I'd never experienced before him, nor had I wanted to - but now, it felt like routine.

There was nothing better than knowing that he felt inclined to have his hands on me; that feeling of being wanted, especially when it was so deeply reciprocated - because I got it, too. I caught myself, too, placing my own hand onto his arm in a brief encounter, or reaching to intertwine his fingers with my own. I wanted his touch; I wanted him, all of the time. I hated the moments when I'd find myself scared of that realisation.

I liked this dynamic. I liked the only thing I had to focus on, being him. I liked feeling like we were the only two people in the world. His hand was laced through mine as we settled into our seats on the plane. I'd had a pang of realisation when we made our way through the plane, to the first class section, which he always flew in, that this wasn't for the sake of tour, now. This trip was funded by his pockets, rather than by a business. Though I knew it wouldn't have been much to him, I considered objecting to how much it would've cost to fly us like this, but I knew it wouldn't have been worthwhile to argue. He was set on doing this the way he wanted me to experience it.

The moment we stepped off the plane, I realised he'd meant it when he said we'd be normal, here. It was immediately different from every other time we'd travelled, in that we weren't escorted anywhere - nobody was there to meet us at the door of the plane and sneak us quickly through the airport. We were doing this properly.