If I Could Fly // h.s.

Chapter 6

A/N - Okay so I haven't gone through and really edited this yet because I'm about to fall asleep. I wanted to go ahead and post before tomorrow, though. Be patient with the mistakes and I promise I'll correct them soon. I hope you like this one!! As always, please take the time to vote and comment :) xx - Jess

Harry and I sit at the coffee shop and talk for about thirty minutes before he decides that it is time to go somewhere else. After disposing of our cups, he takes my hand in his and leads me out the door.

"Where are we going?" I ask as we walk down the street. Rather than let my hand go, Harry simply laces his fingers in mine.

"I thought we would hit Baker Street and the London Eye today. What do you think?" He asks, looking down at me. "I never actually asked, but I figured it was safe to assume that you're a pretty big Sherlock fan after you told me about the sorts of books you like to read."

"I can't believe you even paid attention," I muse, taking a moment to think back to our conversations on the airplane where we met barely two days ago. "I would love to see Baker Street, though. Can we go into the museum?" I ask excitedly.

"Of course we can, love. We can do whatever you want," he smiles down at me, revealing the little creases at the edges of his perfect green eyes. I catch myself before I start to gawk too obviously.

"Thank you!" I say before standing on my tip toes and placing a kiss on his cheek.

"You're very welcome," he murmurs, releasing my hand and swinging his arm around my shoulder, pressing his lips to my hair.

I am getting way too comfortable around Harry Styles. It's almost easy to forget who he really is when he acts like this. Worse than that, when I'm with him, I can almost forget who I am and what I'm supposed to be focusing on. I absolutely cannot get swept away by a beautiful British heartthrob. I won't do it.

We finish perusing the Sherlock Holmes museum and decide to leave after Harry insists on purchasing me a souvenir. He's so stubborn.  Harry makes a brief telephone call and before I know it, a sleek, black Range Rover has pulled up across the street from us. Harry's driver, Paul, takes us to the London Eye and let's us out.

Once we step closer to the huge wheel, I feel panic start creeping over me. I've never even ridden a Farris wheel before at a county fair before, let alone one of this magnitude. Harry seems to pick up on my discomfort. He squeezes my hand and whispers in my ear, "I'll be right here with you the whole time. Just like on the plane, love. I won't let anything happen to you," he murmurs close to my ear, his breath sending chills down my spine.

"Okay. I can do it," I reply, my voice betraying me and coming out shakier than I'd like. He simply nods and leads me through the entrance to the wheel and walks up to speak to the worker that is standing behind a large counter. He tells the man his name and we are ask to wait for just a few moments while he sorts out the details.

"You're going to love the view. There's really no better way to see this city," he says, trying to comfort me.

"I bet. Thank you for making me do this," I say honestly. "I don't like letting fear keep me from things. Sometimes I need a little nudge here and there. That's usually what Nichole does for me back home." Bringing up my best friend send a pang of sadness through me. It's only been three days and I already miss her so much. Distance definitely plays tricks on you.

"She sounds like a wonderful person. I hope I get to meet her one day," Harry says with a small, and possibly hopeful smile on his face.

"I would like that very much," I reply, looking up at him and getting a bit lost in his eyes for a moment. That moment is interrupted, however, when the worker returns and asks us to follow him.