About (Harry Styles)

43.

A few hours into the flight, I feel a slight pressure on my left shoulder.

It's Harry's head. I tilt my head slightly forward to peek at his face. Both of his eyes are closed. He's out like a light

A small smile pulls at my lips for a reason I hate to acknowledge. I bite my lip to keep the smile from forming, hoping to retain some composure. My feelings are always straightforward, but when it comes to Harry, I don't want to be direct with myself.

But having him next to me like this ... Having him by my side while he looks so peaceful, I can't help but feel content flutters in my stomach, in my chest. I can't choose not to feel them.

I mentally want to punch myself for saying those harsh words to him at the airport.

Did he really deserve them?

I find Harry being the one to wake me up as the plane pulls up to our gate. I must have succumbed to a nap as well since the eight hour flight was rather boring and long.

"Here," he says, showing me a pair of dark sunglasses. I observe it questionably.

Why is he giving me a pair of sunglasses?

Is this some European initiation ritual I don't know about?

I get that it's summer time, but it's raining out there.

Harry seems to notice and tries to lighten the mood with a joke. "Are you completely senseless? Do you not know how to use a pair of sunglasses as well?" He laughs, those deep dimples of his accentuating his wide grin.

Well, at least that's what I imagine him to say.

"Wear it or you'll go blind. Trust me," he quietly warns me.

A patient Harry waits to get up as the rest of first class removes their luggage from the top compartments. He retrieves both of our small luggages and gives me mine.

The next part, I expected. I am more than aware of the loads amount of paps around the airport waiting. The focus of the singular attention - us.

Descending from the plane isn't too difficult. I mean, there are watchful stares leering our way, and a few phones out to take pictures of us as we walk towards baggage claim. It is when we are in the actual airport itself that it got scary. All I can see are figures of men with cameras and fans with their cellphones amongst all the blinding flashes. Not any specific faces.

The beating inside of my chest increases as our feet pick up speed to beat the crowd. I feel a sudden tug at my hand, and I look down to see Harry's fingers tightly laced around mine. My initial thought is to pull away ... But it's too comforting.

I look up to see the side of Harry's face, noticing his usual stern grimace, lips pressed together in a subtle frown. He keeps his gaze locked on the floor while the guards lead the way. He's been through countless situations like this already but the attention is still overwhelming to him. I can literally feel his discomfort.

I feel a sudden need to comfort him but I fight it ... unsuccessfully. In attempt to appease him, I give his hand a small squeeze and brush my thumb against the back of it.  While surveying his profile for any change in expression, I don't see anything change. He must have not noticed. Or maybe it didn't even help.

Thankfully, we make it to the car without any scratches. Once the guards place our belongings into the trunk, the driver takes off. My uneasy heart continues to beat loudly in my ears not because of the invasive crowd but because Harry's still holding onto my hand, firmly.

"You can let go now," I quietly tell him.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he drops my hand. He acts as though he's been caught doing something he's not supposed to. I don't know whether to be offended or laugh at how quickly he let me go.

I turn my attention out the window, the dark grey tint of it giving everything a darker blanket. The buildings are familiar as I take in the sights. The aura of London is hauntingly mesmerizing.

Was I here only several weeks ago?

It seems like ages ago ...

I motion my head to look Harry's way. He's on his phone.

"Where are we going?" I decide to ask, trying not to sound too interested.

He doesn't answer me right away, keeping his eyes intently on the illuminated screen of his iPhone as his fingers rapidly type away.

"My hometown," he tells me.

"Where's that?"

"You don't know? I thought you were a fan?"

"I was but it's not like I cared where you came from." Was that a little harsh? "I just liked your music."

"Cheshire. It's a two hour commute if we take the train."

"We're going to take a train there?" Another excursion for paps to claw at us.

He nods. "Not many people take trains nowadays. Besides, if we remain low on the radar, we won't be recognized. Not immediately anyway... We'll make it in time for dinner."

Dinner .. With his family. It really hasn't sunk in yet.

"Why didn't you tell them?" I ask, hoping he gives me a truthful answer. "About us?"

"Us. Is there even an us?" He asks rhetorically.

"Oh," is all I can say. The way he said it, it felt like a dagger stabbed right into my chest.

...

Harry was right. Not many people took the train. A few people did recognize him while we sat in our seats. They politely asked for autographs and pictures. A girl even wanted a picture with me which pleasantly surprised me, to say the least. She's probably the few who actually accepted Harry having a 'girlfriend'.

"Didn't you have questions for me?" Harry asks after they leave us.

"Huh?"

"Now's the time. Only one a day."

His unexpected agreement for me to ask him questions is throwing me off. I thought it'd be harder to find the right time.

"Umm .." I search my brain for the questions. Funny how when you're in the moment, you forget what you want to say. "Hold on .."

From my purse, I take out my pen and a small notepad and write down my question. I don't want to risk anyone overhearing our conversation.

"What's that for?" He questions.

"I'm thinking ..."

Once I'm done writing my first question, I give him the pen and paper. He takes a quick suspicious look at my pen, but returns his attention to the paper.

He reads the question, and while he writes his answer, I try not to take an early peek.

I impatiently read his answer.

"Security purposes, mostly because of management."

That's why I must have my phone with me? I write down the subsequent question. It takes him longer to write the second answer. He contemplates something through his mind and finally writes down a response.

"For your safety ... That's enough questions for today."

For my safety? He wanted me to quit school and my job because of my well-being?

It doesn't make much sense when I first read it. But when I think about it, there is some logic behind the condition. People would have recognized me as his 'girlfriend' ... And done things. Bad things.

But I still don't think this is the whole truth. My gut tells me there's more that he's hiding from me.

Though I really want to know, I'll probably never know. I know that I've lost his trust. So I'll let it go and accept the written words he's given me as the truth ... For now.

A/n: please vote and comment! Every one really makes a difference (: