clouds // h.s

iii.

-

"we apologize for any inconvenience, miss smith," smiled the flight attendant dressed in a set of dark blue uniform, flashing chrissy her immaculate dental structure. she placed a hand on chrissy's shoulder and squeezed it gently, assuring her everything was going to be okay, there was nothing to be worried about.

chewing on her cherry chapstick-stained lip, chrissy nodded despite the sinking feeling in her guts at the thought of spending fourteen hours with a troubled celebrity. for the past ten minutes, chrissy had been begging for not only a change of seat or class, but a change of flight. mentally pointing fingers at her parents, whom she had guessed were the ones responsible for this utter atrocity, she tried pulling a sad face, hoping the flight attendant would fall for it and ask the pilot to turn the plane around, no matter how completely absurd that sounded in her head.

"are you sure there's nothing you can do? i mean-- " chrissy was stopped mid-sentence, when a large hand covered her mouth and roughly hauled her backwards.

the flight attendant's eyes flickered to the tall figure standing behind chrissy and they widened in surprise, her mouth forming a little O.

"mister styles," she managed coughing out after regaining her composure, hands reaching for her ballerina bun, ensuring it was perfection, still. "i wasn't told you were on board."

"wanda," harry greeted stiffly. "she any trouble?" he asked, eyes on the girl that was starting to inflict pain in his ass, who was watching the whole exchange with mild interest.

wanda shook her head. "she just wanted some privacy, she said."

"oh, please," harry scoffed. "that's bullshit. there's a lot of space on this airbus for her to prance around like a bloody idiot. she's overreacting. don't worry about this one, wanda. she's with me."

chrissy's eye balls almost popped out of their sockets when harry removed his hand from her mouth and easily slipped it into hers, as if that was a normal thing to do, as if he had done it with her before. the intimacy of that moment sent chills down chrissy's spine, but she managed to look annoyed albeit the butterflies erupting in her stomach. harry made it looked effortless and realistic, although deep down, chrissy knew this was all an act to shut her up. she kept repeating that sentence in her head, reminding her delusional self that this was harry styles she was holding hands with, and he had probably done this to hundreds of girls for the same reason. this had shocked wanda too, and she looked rather annoyed, a little jealous even, at the sight of their intertwined fingers, even though chrissy was obviously conflicted by the look on her face.

"is there anything els-- "

"no, wanda," harry interrupted rudely, sending wanda a dismissive nod. "we're fine."

and with that being said, harry pulled chrissy with him, back to their seats. he was probably oblivious to the fact that his hand was still holding hers, unnoticing his grip on chrissy was too hard that her face had unconsciously scrunched up in pain.

"harry," chrissy whined, unable to help herself. he needed to loosen his grip a little, she thought.

harry froze mid-way, having realized that was the first time this short, dressed-to-kill girl had called him by his name. scratch that, he thought to himself, this was the first time anyone had called him ever so softly, with no nosy middle-aged men with humongous, expensive cameras shouting profanities at him in the background. this was somewhat refreshing, and a little sad. harry glanced at the girl, who was already looking up at him, wondering what was in that little head of hers.