In My Arms (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 1

I take a deep breath of the fresh oxygen that trees have sent off around me. My eyes fall closed as I take in my surroundings. Each chirp from a bird, each rustling sound of wind surfing through the leaves, and each moment of pure silence from the outside world causes me to think of the beautiful morning sun that rises before me.

I exhale, allowing my eyes to peel open, revealing the sun light that peaks through the trees.

I giggle as peace fills the air.

It's been 15 months since the accident. The accident that took the lives of my parents, and that took away my ability to walk. The funereal for my parents is yet to take place and I never got to meet the half brother my mother has always been wanting me to meet.

There's still tons to do.

I come here every morning, just before sunrise. It makes me feel at home. It makes me feel alone, and alone is all I ever need.

It's amazing how much of an impact nature has on some people, mostly me. It helps me through tough times.

A simple scent of fresh greens relaxes me and cures me of my paralysis. It makes everything else in this world irrelevant.

"Lexie! I think it's time we go!"

I look behind me to find Spencer running towards me. I laugh as she begins to give up. She's not much of a runner.

She grabs the handles of my wheelchair, turning me around as we head back to our flat.

Spencer has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. After we graduated high school, she told me that she would have me live with her, considering the condition I'm in. It was the right choice to make. Living with her is better than ever. She's genuinely a caring person. We've been living together for a year now, and I've been able to learn how to take a shower and use the restroom on my own so she doesn't help as much as she used to, but she still insists on me using her help.

It doesn't take long until we reach our flat. I wheel myself to the couch, lifting my feet onto it, and pushing the rest of my body onto the arm rest. Spencer comes in behind me, pushing my wheelchair away, coming back to take a seat beside me.

"So I'm thinking that its the right time for a funeral now." The words barely make it past my lips without me crying as Spencer looks at me with a smile.

"Of course, who should we invite?" she pulls out her phone, pulling up the notes and getting ready to type down some names.

"From my dads side invite Uncle Ben, Aunt Elen and my Grandfather George." I pause as Spencer finishes typing.

"From my mums side invite Aunt Lauren and Aunt Shelly." I watch Spencer as she types.

"That's it?"

"They'll bring their families."

"Ok, I'm gonna go grab your mums' address book." She gets up off the couch and starts to head out the living room before I stop her.

"Invite my brother too."

"What's his name?"

"I don't know. Ask one of my mums sisters, they'll know."

I listen as I hear her footsteps decrease while she walks further and further into the flat. I exhale a long breath I've kept inside for a while as my eyes travel to my legs.

They're thin, as if all the meat has gone away. The lack of exercise I get makes my head boil. I remember how it felt.

How it felt to be out on that field.

That feeling when you play in the rain. When you come one on one with your opponent and you find your way past her maze and you feel as if you're the only one on that field.

The feeling of the ball when it makes contact with your feet. When you make your way through the cracks and find the opening.

The perfect opening to take a shot.

That feeling when you raise your leg and release with all your strength. When the ball pushes off the side of your cleat, and the spikes chop the wet green grass causing specks of grass and droplets of dirty water to hit your thighs.

I miss it.

I don't realize I'm crying until I feel a warm tear roll down my cheeks.

"Lexie, you okay?" I'm taken aback by her presence and am caught by surprise. I wipe the tears off my cheeks with the back of my hand and turn to look at Spencer.

"Yeah, just got a little teary." She looks at me with pity as her grip on the brown old notebook gets tighter.

"Don't look at me like that Spencer." I laugh.

"Like what?"

"You're looking at me with pity. Stop." I watch as she begins to giggle.

"My bad." She walks over to me with the notebook, sitting at the end of the couch.

I pick up my legs, one by one, as I let them dangle off the edge of the couch allowing Spencer to sit closer to me.

She pulls out her phone.

"Who should we call first?"