Stockholm Syndrome [Larry Stylinson AU]

h.3

The check-in line was long. It kept on snaking, and just as you thought you might eventually be getting to the front of the line it continued to snake some more. I sighed and stared around at everyone bustling around us.

So this is it, I thought. Adios Singapore, hello Dubai.

Of course I was sad to leave, but I was excited as well. My last day of school here had been two days ago, and my classmates had thrown me a surprise party which was great fun. To be completely honest, I wasn't really upset to leave school. I only had a small group of friends, as everyone else was in a sort of clique and it just never seemed right to try and be friends with the other cliques however nice they were. While I did love the friends that I had, I was eager for a fresh start.

On the other hand, I was sad to leave the bakery. It was honestly quite fun working there, and all the leftovers we got to eat every day for free made it worth it. And of course, Taylor and I frequently hung out together at the bakery and had many good times there.

The thought of Taylor brought a small smile to my face. She'd come over a few hours ago just before my parents, my sister Gemma, and I left for the airport to exchange our final goodbyes to one another. I promised to Skype her as soon as we reached Dubai and managed to get some WiFi. I was a bit worried about whether or not we'd be able to keep our relationship going. Long-distance relationships are hard, and I'd read enough books to know that most of them don't work out. But I was determined to make ours work, and ending with that, I tried to clear the thoughts of Taylor from my head. Right now, I was going to focus on what we were going towards, which is Dubai, and leave all thoughts of Singapore behind.

"Harry!" I could hear Gemma calling me.

I looked around and realised that we'd actually moved in the line, my parents and Gemma were now standing at the check-in counter while I was still stupidly standing alone in the line. I jogged over to them and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"Harry Styles?" the lady at the counter asked and I stepped in front of her so that she could check if my passport picture was legit.

Her eyes scanned over my face, and she nodded and stamped the passport, then snapped it shut and handed it back to me. "Do you have any check-in luggage?" she asked us all.

We didn't as all of our stuff was going to be arriving later straight at our new house, and as my mum explained this to the lady my eyes wandered to a TV screen hanging overhead.

There he was. Again. Louis freaking Tomlinson. Wanted. Again. There was an immense amount of money under his name, and whoever found him would be rewarded with it. My mum had finished speaking to the lady and her eyes followed my gaze up towards the TV screen. She glanced briefly at it and then looked at my dad, who rested his hands on my shoulder and slowly guided me away from the screen. "C'mon Harry," he said. "We need to get going now."

"But-"

"Don't want to miss the flight, do we?" he asked.

"No, but we've got plenty of time," I protested. Why wouldn't he let me have a look at Louis on the screen? He ignored me and continued to drag me away like I was a baby boy or something, with Gemma and my mum following close behind. "He's in Dubai right now. Louis, I mean. The psychopath guy I was just looking at," I informed my family.

"We know," my mum said quietly. "Don't worry, Harry. Now, who wants a croissant?" She led us towards a nearby Costa Coffee, and sat down at a table.

Was it just me or was she and my dad trying to avoid talking about Louis?

*****

"Prepare for take off," the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom. I was sitting comfortably next to Gemma, well as comfortable as you can get on an aeroplane, my curls squashed under my beanie as I leaned my head back against the seat. I'd bagged the window seat so Gemma was eagerly leaning over me, trying to get her last glimpse of Singapore as the plane began to move faster and faster and ascend into the sky. Soon enough, the gentle rumbling noise of the engine filled the cabin and Singapore disappeared beneath us, a blur of lights and buildings. I rested my head against the cool glass of the window, trying to gather all of my thoughts and emotions together. And then, somewhere in the middle, I fell asleep.

*****

I awoke to the sound of the pilot speaking. This time, he said "Prepare for landing." I yawned loudly and pressed my forehead against the window. It was dark outside, and the only things visible were lights. Lots and lots of lights and buildings. Dubai looked amazing. I smiled excitedly at Gemma as the aeroplane touched the ground, and continued moving over the bumpy runway for a few more minutes.

"I can't believe we're here."

"Me neither," Gemma agreed. She unfastened her seatbelt and stood up, then stretched. People had started to take their stuff out of the overhead lockers, and a slow line of people were moving out of the aircraft. Gemma and I met with our parents outside the aircraft and the four of us walked to the immigration line.

I groaned inwardly at the sight of it, it was even longer than the check-in line in Singapore. I passed the time by staring around at everything, trying to take it all in. The Arabs, I gathered, wore a special type of clothing, the men seemed to be in white with something on their heads and the women in black. Everything was big, expensive looking, and just ... clean.

We finally made it through immigration, and as soon as we stepped outside the first thing that struck me was the heat. It was hot. Very hot. And it was 7:00pm. Singapore wasn't the coldest country, but this definitely beats it. A long line of taxis filled the car park and we all piled into one.

"Frond C, Villa 9, The Palm," my dad told the driver. (A/N I am so sorry if that is one of your actual houses omg)

The beauty of the city struck me as the taxi driver pulled out of the car park. The buildings were amazing, all so tall and modern looking and the lights were beautiful. There were many palm trees dotting the area and most of them were draped with fairy lights to make them stand out.

My thoughts were interrupted by the crazy taxi driver pulling on the brakes suddenly and we came to a screeching halt, just in time or we would've knocked the car in front.

Eventually, we reached our destination.

The taxi driver helped us with our luggage before demanding a ridiculous amount of money for the unbearable ride. But I was not paying attention.

Instead, I was focused on the huge, pearl white villa which stood in front of me, but more importantly the right hand corner of it. I swear I saw someone standing there.

However, before I could say or do anything my parents rushed my through the door into the already-furnished mansion. Our furniture was mismatched in an un orderly fashion. And I was pretty sure a microwave did not belong in the same room as a sofa.

My mother sighed, knowing the amount of work needed to be done. "Get some rest for now," she said sounding exhausted. "We shall worry about this mess tomorrow."

Leaving our luggage in the hallway, Gemma and I lugged ourselves up the never-ending staircases and into the first room we came across. Spotting a bed and quilt, I removed my clothes and fell asleep the minute my head touched the mattress.