Untouchable |h.s|

Two

A/N: This is a double update, so make sure you read chapter one before you come to this one.

Harry Styles

Our private jet set to land in Hawaii is booked to take off tomorrow at around noon, and after an eventful few days of intense packing and planning, we've decided to have a break to relax and take the edge off before our flight.

Ruby, Niall, and Elora went to Jade's for a pool day early this morning, but Aubrey needed more sleep than that. She didn't wake up to the inviting call from Jade, the goodbyes from everyone else, or the startling jump onto our bed from Charlie after the others left. I told them we'd catch up if we both felt up to it, and I'm leaving the decision up to her entirely.

Her stress levels are much higher recently due to preparing for the trip, readying herself to go back to work, dealing with her recurring dreams about what happened to her back in March, and handling my emotions after being sent yet another picture of myself as a child a few days ago. She's stretching herself pretty thin and has yet to solve all of her own issues, putting her energy into helping others a little too much at times.

After having both breakfast and lunch at our own pace that drowns into the evening, she's now decided that we're going to meet everyone at the pool. Something about that seems to leave her feeling uneasy, and I think I know exactly what it is, but I'm waiting for her to tell me. I don't want to push anything out of her.

I have on a pair of black swim trunks as I lay back on our bed with my arms bent and resting behind my head to act as a sort of pillow, patiently waiting for her to get ready. She's been digging through her drawer full of bathing suits she didn't have the room to pack for nearly ten minutes, picking a new one up every so often before tossing it back into its holder with a huff.

She's been over at the pool many times this summer, but always wearing a one-piece bathing suit. She'll wear crop tops and expose her stomach in small doses to people, but bikinis are still not something she's entirely comfortable with wearing.

When I see her pull out what looks to be a light blue bikini, I'm taken aback.

She practically forces herself out of her clothes and pulls the articles onto her body without much thought to it, the bathing suit fitting her perfectly just like everything does. I've seen her completely naked since everything that happened, so she isn't bothered by me viewing her like this, of course. The idea of others seeing her so exposed doesn't seem to sit well with her, though.

She looks at herself in the standing mirror in our room, instantly tucking her arms across her scarred stomach and making my heart sink. I know the look in her eyes. It's the look I had for many years as a kid, hiding myself beneath long-sleeved shirts to avoid any questions and prevent others from seeing a part of me I was ashamed of.

She's been much better, yes, but she isn't entirely okay with being seen just yet. In her position, spontaneous recovery is nearly impossible. It took me years.

She clears her throat before speaking up, seeing my eyes on her in the reflective surface in front of her. She turns my way, forcing her arms to her sides and letting me see her like she has for months now.

"I don't wanna stick to just one-pieces on vacation." She explains herself.

"You don't have to make yourself wear something you're not comfortable in." I shake my head at the way she's going about this.

"I'm gonna end up wearing one-pieces on my bad days, but I wanna feel confident like this, too. I always used to be."

"I want you to feel confident, too, baby," I sit up and grab onto her hands as she stands at the foot of the bed, "I just want you to know that being comfortable is what matters. Don't feel like you have to wear anything you feel too exposed in."