The "Biggest" Fan (EN)

37.

The low hum of the plane was soothing, engine sounds mixing with quiet music playing in my single earphone. Flying first class wasn't half bad. The seats were ridiculously comfortable, the food smelled edible for once, and the only people nearby were Harry's management team - buried in laptops and oblivious to the world.

Harry's head rested on my shoulder, mouth slightly open in a way that was either adorable or horrifying, depending on your level of bias. His earphone dangled precariously, threatening to fall at any second. My arm was completely numb, but there was no way I was moving it. Not when Harry looked so peaceful.

I shifted slightly, trying to get some circulation back without waking him. Unsuccessfully. It was still numb.

Across the aisle, Bob and Richard were chatting. I was surprised our bodyguards got along so well. It was a good thing, knowing they'd be forced to see each other as often as I see Harry.

"Berlin's got some decent pubs," Bob said, stretching his legs, "Not sure we'll have time to check any out, though."

"If you don't think these lads will sneak out to some pub and drag us along, you're very naive," Richard answered with a low laugh.

I rolled my eyes, suppressing a grin, "You know I can hear you, right?" I called over.

"Good," Richard shot back with a grin, "Means you're okay with the plan."

Before I could respond, Harry stirred against me, nuzzling his face further into my shoulder before his eyes blinked open. He squinted at me, his voice groggy, "Did I fall asleep on you?"

"Just a bit," I teased, finally daring to move my arm and forcefully shaking it. I winced as a thousand pins and needles stabbed through it, "No big deal. I think I might be able to save it."

Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes, "You should've shoved me off."

"Not a chance," I said, shaking my head with a warm smile. I grabbed a menu from the table, skimming through the fancy names, "Want something to drink?"

"I don't know. Coffee, maybe," he mumbled, already pressing the call button. The flight attendant appeared, and he ordered two coffees with the efficiency of a man who'd done this too many times. Then, without missing a beat, he slung an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer, "It's my turn to be a pillow now," he giggled.

I tilted my head to rest lightly against his neck, smiling at how easily we fit together.

"This is nice," he said in a sweet voice. His thumb traced slow circles over my knuckles.

"Mhm," I hummed, closing my eyes for a moment and breathing in his cologne. I wanted to stay like this forever.

Just when I felt my eyes starting to sink shut, Victor appeared from the back of the plane, a stack of papers in hand. His expression darkened as he spotted us.

"Comfortable?" He asked, his tone sharp, eyes narrowing at the closeness between us.

"Very," I said, shifting slightly, though Harry's hand remained on my shoulder, gently squeezing it.

Victor didn't look amused by my answer, "You need to get used to some distance between you," he muttered through clenched teeth.

"Don't worry, Victor, there are no paparazzi hiding in the clouds," Harry said lazily, entirely unaffected by Victor's presence. My body, on the other hand, had been tense from the moment I saw him.

"This isn't about the paparazzi. It's about professionalism," Victor said, slapping a piece of paper onto Harry's lap, "Tomorrow's schedule. Memorize it."