Heat - Harry Styles

four

My bare feet rubbed roughly against the familiar wooden boards as Harry and I quickly scrambled down the dock. I held my tattered flip flops in my left hand and Harry's wrist in the other, pulling him giddily through the numerous rows of boats.

The Charleston sun beat down intensely, but I didn't let it stop me from having my fun. The longer we ventured down the dock, the further and further we got from the land. This meant that there was finally a consistent breeze--something to help cool our burning faces. I briefly glanced out across the water as we finally reached the end of what seemed like an endless maze that jutted outwards into Charleston Harbor. I turned a quick left, which seemed to surprise Harry as I heard him mutter a curse under his breath.

I huffed in satisfaction as we finally reached my chosen destination. I turned to Harry and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. He simply gazed at what lay before him, pink lips parting slightly.

"Whose yacht is this?" he asked after a few moments of staring.

"It's my parent's," I answered simply. My dad always hated when I said the boat was theirs. He insisted that it belonged to all of us, but something about calling this huge boat mine didn't feel right. I hadn't earned it--and don't get me wrong, I didn't necessarily feel bad using it--but calling it mine just seemed weird.

"Wow," he whistled as he scanned the four-story boat that floated before him, "this is sick."

"Come on," I muttered as I grabbed his hand and pulled him on board.

We climbed all the way up to the top deck before I unlocked our hands. I collapsed onto one of the sofas, feeling exhausted from the incessant heat. I watched silently as Harry gazed out onto the blue harbor. The sun reflected brightly off of the water, making it painful to look at without sunglasses. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, giving them a break from the bright light. In the silence, I could hear the subtle flutter of fabric which I knew to be the American flag that hung off the stern of the boat.

I opened my eyes only when I felt the couch dip next to me, indicating that Harry had decided to come sit down. "This is insane," he said as he ran a hand through his hair. "So much for impressing you," he laughed.

I laughed with him and shook my head, "You don't need to impress me."

"Yeah," he nodded, "you definitely don't seem like the type of girl who would have all this."

I remained silent, not sure what to say. Harry's comment didn't take me by surprise because it was something I got a lot. Everyone assumes that wealthy people are stuck up--and I definitely get that. Rubbing elbows with Charleston's elite has definitely taught me that a lot of people with money tended to be a little big for their britches, but it has also taught me that such isn't the case for everyone.

Harry seemed to be a little panicked by my silence and quickly tried to backtrack on what he had said, "Not that I'm saying there's anything wrong with all this, I just was thinking that you're so--ya know--nice and cute and all that and I'm just really sorry. I didn't mean to offend you or-"

I cut him off with a fit of giggles. I couldn't help but find his nervous rambling completely amusing. He looked at me in bewilderment as I clutched my sides and screwed my eyes shut in laughter. When I finally stopped laughing I turned my head to look at him, only to see that his cheeks were a bright shade of pink.

"Truly, Harry," I started as I lay a hand on his bicep, "I'm not offended at all. It's a compliment, really."

He shook his head and laughed, "You were just letting me squirm!"

"I really didn't mean to! I was just lost in my own thoughts. It really didn't bother me at all."

Our conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone climbing the wooden staircase. I bit the inside of my cheek, internally praying that it wasn't my mom or dad. I definitely didn't want them to know I was on the boat with a tattooed British man who was practically a stranger.