Deliverance [h.s.]

sixty | my only angel*

She's an angel

My only angel

Only Angel || Harry Styles

*************

Harry's P.O.V.

"Harry! You have to stay still!' Blue shouted through giggles, pinning my palms on her crossed legs in front of me.

"What do you mean! I am sitting still!" I fought back, laughing at the lie through my teeth.

I can't sit still. I haven't been able to sit still or even think straight for the last hour. My mind and stability went out the window with all of my cares and inhibitions the moment I told her that I love her.

I love her like she's the air I need, the water I crave.

I'd be lying if i said i wasn't in some sort of spiral of regret, denial, acceptance, and every other fucking emotion on the planet.

At one point on the drive back, I stopped in the middle of an empty road. Dead stop, center of the street. I thought i was having a heart attack, almost told her to drive me to a hospital because I was sure as shit i was going to die at any moment.

But it wasn't painful. It wasn't fear. It certainly wasn't a heart attack. It was love.

Love I never imagined. Love I never deserved. Love I never knew existed.

I love her.

I love her like I love the ocean.

I love her.

I kinda- by kinda, I mean not even a little bit- understand my feelings and where they're coming from but that doesn't mean the tremble of my hands hasn't stopped for even a second.

Not when she held my hand as she opened the door, leading me to the living room of their small house. Not when she carefully painted on the first layer of navy blue polish to my two fingers, insisting it was now or never because she was 'too excited to wait'. It didn't stop during the second layer either and it sure as shit doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon, even as I watch her pick up the clear bottle reading 'Quick Dry' from the table.

"You are shaking like a goddamn leaf, Harry," her head shook, smiling to herself as she opened the bottle.

Yeah, you would know what that looks like. Fucking foliage elf.

"Yeah, and? I'm just so excited for you to paint my nails, you know?" A lie. An unbelievable one, and she knows that but she doesn't say anything other than a simple 'mhm'.

I watch as she intently focuses on applying a thin clear coat over them. Her tongue peeking from the side of her mouth in concentration as she steadies her slightly trembling hand, as if she's not wracking through the same emotions as me right now.

Fuck, i love her.

"And we are all-'' She dragged out with one final stroke over my now navy blue middle fingers, "-done." She clasped her hands together with a cheeky smile, eyes barely open, "Perfect! Look, we're matching!"

She lined our hands up, placing my middle finger over hers to show a completed set of 10.

A complete set of 10.

We've always added up to each other.

The day at Steele's when she told me about 8's and 2's.

I looked it up more that night. I wanted to know why she thought of me that way, as an eight and what it meant. More so I wanted to know what it was like for her to be a two. I learned a lot, even took one of those shitty free test things and sure enough; she was right, I'm an 8. It also said we weren't meant to be together, some shit about clashing personalities or whatever the fuck.