oh, to dream || harry styles

ch. eleven

"The party's over, time to go
Spinning lights, the music dies, you never showed
Wine stains and glitter on the floor

11.

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

HARRY'S P.O.V

You too. Stay put. (:

I missed her so much and this entire thing feels so surreal. She's coming home. She is finally fucking coming home. I never gave up hope but honestly at one point I wasn't sure if I'd ever see her again. Of course she was alive, but somewhere far far away by now. Another country, even. But here we are, three months and eight days later and she is coming home.

Boarding plane now. Send me address please. I love you.

Lillian: okay. I love you too. In the bathroom I'll send you address in a bit, doof.

I love you. I love you. I loveyouiloveyouiloveyou. (:

I have an enormous grin plastered across my face as we board the plane. It was much easier booking an incredibly last minute plane than I imagined.

It had been so long and so many hours of sleep lost that when the plane takes off my mind finally eases and I finally get some rest.

"Sir, we've landed." I'm woken up by a woman, a flight attendant probably. I don't even notice with how fast I run off of the plane. Within an hour I'm in a rental and on the way to my girl.

Lillian: Attachment: 1 image

Lillian: ready whenever you are. hurry up(:

Piercing? (:

Lillian: took it out. not my thing(:

Beautiful. I'm going to devour you on sight. (:

Lillian: be mindful of my fiancée(: