No Matter What // Harry Styles AU -- Dunkirk inspired

Chapter Two

From "mind your best manners" to "don't mention your Father's store," every single command my mother left with me at the dock goes flying out the window. Well, metaphorically speaking. I should be so lucky to have a window and not be lying against the chipped wall of this swollen, cramped room on D-Deck.

"Please!" I beg. "Please open the door!"

A kick against the flimsy door, followed by the sound of painful retching, answers me.

The ship rocks.The room and the contents of my stomach sway like a tire swing to the left.

"There's four of us in here, ya know!" I bang back with a fist.

Well, technically there were three. One bunkmate, a girl with the most beautifully clear and creamy complexion was currently laying backwards, positively as green as her putrid wool sweater. The other girl lay on her bed clutching herself while cursing either us, the boat, or maybe just the universe. I tried to catch her words, but I'd never been good with languages and stopped practicing French when Mother had to fire all of our tutors.

Locked in our shared bathroom, the fourth girl refuses to answer. Anxiety that this turbulent night will never end swarms and prickles my entire body.

"For pete's sake!" I holler. Enough is enough. Knowing I'm maybe minutes away from losing the contents of my stomach, I reach up and with all my strength, push myself up off the floor, and stumble towards the doorway.

There must be a bathroom somewhere on this god forsaken boat, I tell myself.

The French girl yells something as I swing open the door. I don't look back and instead stumble forward. I catch myself on a railing that juts out of the now slanted corridor, the yellowed lights flickering like an ember crackling to its final death.

I manage to make it down the long corridor- nothing. I tremble at the thought of making it up the stairs, but with the power threatening to go out, I don't dare trap myself in an elevator.

I somehow muster up the strength to take the stairs. I focus on counting to 20 in my head. Nothing is that scary when it's broken down into such a short amount of time.

One... two...

The ship rocks again. My knuckles turn white from clutching the railing so tightly.

Three... Four...

The ship sways like a vicious hand on a cradle. I make it to the top of the stairs, but feel like death. I huddle against the end of the railing, about the cry when I hear someone speak to me.

"Darling, you okay?"

I don't look up. I just shake my head. I'm afraid if I speak I'll either begin sobbing or possibly become ill. Neither of which would I allow.

"You don't look so good, let me help you to your room."

"No!" I manage to get out. "It's worse down there," I say, pointing down the stairs.

"Well we can't be having you get sick and stuck in the stairwell." she says gently. "Hey listen, I know things seem mighty rough right now, but trust me it'll pass. Besides, there's some good lookin' fellas on this boat. We don't want to wake up looking like two crazy girls sprawled out on the floor like spaghetti."

I nearly smile. I open my eyes to see a girl, not far from my age, with the most beautiful auburn hair and green eyes peering into mine.

"Here let me help you up," she says. Even though I'd rather hurl, I gather my wits and with trembling knees, manage to stand up with her help.

"You have anyone on board I can get for you?" she asks. I simply shake my head, the lump in my throat growing into a quiver that I use all of my energy to try and push back.