WEAK // (Harry Styles)

7

"I know," I say, pushing his hair back to let the dim light onto his face. He finally kisses me, and I surround him with my arms. He falls back onto the bed, and I dig my face into his chest, which I have access to thanks to his unbuttoned shirt. He feels... normal. Just like when we first moved to New York. Happy, safe, calm, soft...

"Take off your clothes," I command. A grin and reddened cheeks appear on his face, and he slides his pants off beneath me. He shifts, putting me beneath him in one swift motion and lifts my top, kisses my scar, then my neck. He keeps his shirt on.

•

He's there when I wake up. Under my palm, his chest rises and sinks intact with mine. He's asleep. It's been a long time since I've woken up before him. I'm the one watching him sleep now, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I shouldn't leave the bedroom before he's awake, but I'm extremely hungry, so I push the duvet off quietly and sneak into the kitchen. There, I see the Captain making himself a sandwich. He turns around quickly when the floor beneath me creaks.

"Oh hello Ms. Styles!" he starts, his eyes wide. "M'sorry, I was just makin' meself some breakfast."

"No worries," I smile gently, and he returns the favor. "Oh, and it's Claire," I say.

"Is it? Mr. Styles specifically told me to call ye Ms. Styles," he says with a burly voice, and I shake my head.

"Of course he did," I say, mentally rolling my eyes. The captain gives me a last smile before wandering off, three sandwiches in his hand. I start preparing breakfast for me and Harry. I whip ingredients into a white bowl, and about ten perfectly golden brown pancakes are soon stacked on top of each other. I pour syrup over and cut up some strawberries, neatly placing them beside the tower.

I walk into the bedroom again, and I nearly drop the plate when I see Harry sitting up, totally awake. Oh god, he woke up without me.

"I'm so sorry Harry, I am totally fine I was just-"

"Are those pancakes?" He smiles, leaning forward. He licks his lips as I bring them closer, and I regard him. He's totally fine. He isn't worried at all, which is weird because whenever he'd wake up without me right next to him, he'd freak out and run around the house looking for me.

"Yes," I nod, placing them on his lap. He grabs the knife and fork off the plate, cuts off a bite, and offers it to me. I take it, still confused. Is he really back to normal? Back to the way he was before Zayn?

"Mh," he lets out when he takes a bite himself. "Thanks love," he says and leans forward for a kiss. I brush my hands through his hair and land my lips on his, bliss flourishing in me.

"You're not freaking out," I say in disbelief, and he pulls me closer.

"Why would I? We're on a boat in the middle of nowhere. The only person who can get to you here is me," he says cheerfully and kisses my nose. His words leave a uncomfortable pinch in my gut.

"Uhm, about the 'Ms. Styles' thing," I say, hesitating. His eyes light up, just like a kid's would after successfully pulling off a practical joke.

"Has a nice ring to it, right?" he suggests and takes another bite.

"Sure, but that's not my name yet," I say, inching away from him. What I thought would discourage him, just puts another spark in his eyes.

"You said yet," he grins, pushes the plate to the side and pulls me into a tight embrace.

"I mean it," I say, my mouth pressed against his chest. He releases me, and a frown is waiting for me as I sit up. "Look, I know this is it. I know that we are each others first loves, and-" I add, but stop when his eyes avoid mine. A few moments pass before he looks up again. Why did he look away?

"...and that we'll be together forever, but stop with the marriage stuff alright?" I continue toward his defeated eyes. He sighs. "At least for a while," I add.

"Alright, alright. Until everything has been resolved, I won't propose," he agrees, nodding along with his words. I sigh a breath of relief and kiss him before he digs his face into my neck, biting it gently.

"You're a goof," I laugh and push his head back. I kiss him a last time before getting off the bed and head for the shower. I glance at him before I close the door to the bathroom. He always was goofy in the morning. It's nice to see it again.

•

A few days later, we eat dinner on the tallest patio, romantic lights scattered around the rim of the fence. I don't talk much. My head is going in endless circles around one question; should I tell Harry that my case is still open? That Yang is currently tracking down an accomplice, that helped abduct, drug and kill me? 

I set my eyes to the black horizon, knowing that he or she is somewhere out there, planning their next move. I mean, it's pretty obvious that they're the one who pulled me to the ice and put the note in my coat. But why? Did they just want to make it known that they exist? Did they just want to scare me? If so, it's a bad strategy, because now I'm on the boat in the middle of nowhere. No one can get to me here.

Something about it still bugs me though. Zayn calculated every outcome of his choices which always put him one step ahead of us. Why would the accomplice be any different?

I am brought away from my thoughts when my phone rings in my pocket. Michaels face flashes on my screen. I pick it up.

"Hey Michael," I say, placing my elbows on the table. Harry looks down, his eyebrows tense. They never really worked their issues out. But now that Michael is finishing his senior year in London, it's not much of an issue. We haven't seen each other in months.

"Claire! Oh my god how have you been? I'm sorry I've been out of touch, things have been hectic. I got a boyfriend you know, he's 6'4!" he babbles without me saying a word, and I smile to myself. I miss him.

"Anyways, how are things? Back to normal?"

"Not quite, I'm in Mexico," I laugh nervously. Harry sends me a stern stare, mentally telling me 'don't tell him where we are'. I respond with a rolling of my eyes. I think we know that we can trust him by now.

"Why? Vacation?" he asks, and I consider what to tell him.

"Yep! Harry and I are just taking a little break from everything," I lie. This "break" probably won't be little. We'll be here for months. Michael and I talk for a few more minutes, filling each other in on the last few months, and then we say goodbye.

"Why did you lie?" Harry asks me after I hang up. 

"I don't want him to worry," I say before prickling chills race up my back when a terrifying thought strikes me.

My mind travels back half a year. After Harry hired bodyguards, set up a police patrol and put up cameras everywhere, Zayn was unable to get to me. His only way of capturing me again was to... get to Michael. 

I stand up from my chair, and it falls behind me. I run to the fence, gripping it tightly as I try to spot land.

"Claire what's wrong?" Harry approaches me as my breath gets heavier. It doesn't even have to be Michael. The accomplice could go after anyone we care about. Louis, Gemma, even our parents.

"Harry..." I start, fear curdling through my limbs. I turn to face him, ready for those calm green eyes to turn scared again.

"We have to go back home."