The Mile High Club (h.s - Slow Updates)

2

a/n: read the authors note at the end for the cast!

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"I am so done. My mum is going to go crazy. This cut on my tít hurts too. And my solo career was just taking off, but nooo I have to be stranded on a stupid island." Harry complained as I tugged on my hair and paced by the shore.

The water was crystal clear and a bright blue, and the sand was white and soft under my bare feet. All of this would've been very peaceful, especially when it was accompanied by the calm, splashing waves. But it was ruined by an annoying British voice.

"On top of that, my cat is all by herself at my house. Who's going to take care of her?" He continued whining. "She's too fragile for the world. She's a little cupcake."

Really? He had a cat? I thought he was the only püssy he knew though, since he was scared shítless from what it seemed like.

Yet, I breathed heavily, my eye twitching as I tried to ignore the whining ásshole who was sitting a few feet away.

"And I've got sand in my boots too. Life is so hard."

I clenched my fists and walked away from where he was sitting, practicing the breathing exercises that my ina (mother) taught me. This man was going to get a fist to his beautiful baby face if he continued complaining.

"And it's all your fault. You crashed my beautiful jet." He said in a whiny tone as I finally exploded. "It was either gonna be forever or it was gonna go down in flames. Wait, I'm pretty sure my ex wrote a song like that. Her name was Taylor-"

"Shut up, you stupid prick!" I yelled, turning around and stomping over to him.

Harry curled up his legs to his chest in concern, looking up at me with wide, scared eyes. His lips parted a bit as I breathed heavily and glowered down at him.

"Your püssy is the least of our concerns, right now! You're whining about stupid things, like sand in your boots. Take off the damn boots then!" I yelled at him, throwing my hands up in the air as he huffed.

He lost his scared expression as he dusted himself off and got up on his feet. He was towering over me. "We might never go home!" I said exasperatedly, looking up at him due to the difference in our heights.

"Who are you calling an idiot, you hallucination?" Harry said in a hauntingly, chilling voice.

"Well there's no one here except for you, so who do you think?" I said in an equally calm voice as he pursed his lips at me. "And besides, your jet was faulty, not my skills."

"And how am I supposed to be so sure of that?" Harry chastised, with a small, challenging smirk on his pink lips.

"I never crashed the other three hundred and eight planes I flew. There was a faulty right engine in your stupid jet. If it weren't for your plane, I wouldn't be stuck here with you," I put my hands on my hips and squinted my eyes at him. "So when we get off this island, if we get off this island, your pretty, rich áss should sue the company."

He gazed at me challengingly and I didn't break my eye contact with him. "My jet was faulty? I don't believe you." He seethed out as I huffed, followed by a scoff.