Paper Planes (Harry Styles)

Genuine Warmth

"I don't think you can fake warmth. You can fake lust, jealousy, anger; those are all quite easy. But actual, genuine warmth? I don't think you can fake it."

-Keira Knightley

~~~~~

Waking up to the chirps of birds is honestly one of my favorite things. No matter where I am in the world; no matter where my career takes me, the birds are there, keeping me on a natural time.

I wasn't surprised to open my eyes and see rays of orange and yellow sparing onto my surroundings. But I was surprised to find myself on my balcony chair, across from Harry. His arms crossed across his chest, wrapping himself to keep in some sort of warmth within himself.

A person like him doesn't have warmth, I chuckle to myself as I lightly get up and slide the balcony door open to fetch him a blanket.

The poor boy seemed thoroughly content after I threw my blanket on him, as he delivered a small smile in his sleep.

I threw my hair into a bun as I walked into my kitchen and started on some breakfast.

*

"In the light of sun, is there anyone? Oh it has begun... Oh dear, you look so lost, your eyes are red and tears are shed. This world you must've crossed... You said..."

I sing-along as I prepared my egg-whites and spinach dish.

"You don't know me, and you don't even care, oh yeah. And you said, You don't know me, and you don't wear my chains..."

The chorus of Augustana's music brought my mind a flashback of last night, when I read all couple hundred of Harry's short letters to me.

Some short, some excessively long - some describing his life, some apologizing repeatedly, some ranting about a current girlfriend. Some written to his best friend (correction: once best friend) and some written to his first love, maybe the only one he had felt.

He hadn't really said much while I read his emotions on paper, he was more than content by taking in my presence. I mean, the guy has five years to make up for.

Not like I've forgiven him- God no.

Because of him, I've been without a best friend in a new land, which seemed like a new world. Because of him, I've lost all faith in friendships AND relationships.

But, because of him I am successful. Because of him, I have made my dreams become a reality.

"Sweetheart, you've burned your meal..." a husky voice sounded, as I felt arms wrap around my waist.

A chin rested on my shoulder and curly hair brushed my cheek. He grabbed the pan from my panicking hands and tossed the once edible food into the sink.

He took a look back at me after rinsing the pan out, "In some deep thought, weren't you?" He asked.

"You've given me a lot to think about," I state, walking across my kitchen only to jump onto my island and sit on the cold marble.

He plastered a smug look, of all facial actions, "I hope all good things, I fought for that 2 pound note."

"Yeah, fought with all your mighty money to hire a tracker." I respond, as a new, smirk came up on his face.

He took steps closer to where I was sitting, legs dangling, on the granite. "Well, you hadn't left me with many rules,"

"Oh sorry, next time you cheat on me I'll be sure to give you an instruction manual on how to correctly win me back,"

He stopped in his trail. And an even bigger smirk grew. "Next time...? Win you back...?" he repeats, an eyebrow already raised.

"Meaning you're willing to give me another chance...?" He asks more thoroughly, this time with a more hopeful expression.

"Harry, you broke my heart. But I'm not one to hold grudges. Especially when what you did led to my brilliant career. You were my best friend, which is really the only logical reason as to why I cannot get myself to forget you. I think of you all the time and after reading all your letters, you weren't any different."

He looked down at his feet and started fumbling with his fingers and tapping his very large foot.

"You were young, as was I. Priorities weren't straight and maybe I'm just thinking of excuses for you but we went too fast too early." As I spoke, I hopped off the countertop and made my way to Harry. I wrapped my small hands around his fidgety ones and lightly stepped on his tapping toes.

I look up and made calming eye contact with an anxious boy. "I'm done making excuses for you. I want you to make it up. Show me how sorry you are. Show me that relationships are much more than heartbreak and tears and consistent of 'the other woman'. Show me that I deserve something more than what I received in the past."

He looked at me, clearly wanting to apologize for another time, but I stopped him, the apology limit was met at letter 36. "I respect you. As a man, as an old friend, I respect you. So. Show me." My hands left his no-longer quivering hands to either side of his cheeks.

A quiet, "I missed you so much," made its echo into my ears from him. He looked down to me, showing nothing but regret and sorrow. I tightened the space between us and moved my palms from his cheeks to the back of his neck and I pulled so close.

His warm arms wrapped around my bare waist, as my pullover had risen from my extension.

I no longer thought he had no warmth.

All his warmth radiated through me, as his arms wrapping around me tightened.

He kept mumbling to me, "I missed you so much," as I felt tear drops on my shoulder.

"Please stop crying, you're making this sad," I choked through my own tears, "I want this to be a happy moment for us, for Lace and Styles." I say, wiping his tears away from his green eyes.

"I can't stop Lace, I've been fighting for you for five years. And I just cannot believe you're finally mine again."

'Me neither, Styles, me neither.'

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