Stranded

6

"Okay, let's go to sleep then. It's late." Liam yawns while saying this. We all nod and most of us yawn. Louis and Liam just plop into bed, and the other four of us start discussing who's sleeping where.

"Okay, well. I don't think me or Angel really minds, so you guys choose," Ali says and I nod. Niall and Harry walk away a bit and I can hear muffled whispers.

"You want to be with Niall, don't you?" I smirk at Ali. She nods.

"And you want to be with Harry." True. The two boys return and Niall coughs awkwardly.

"Um, so we thought, I would be with Ali, and Haz could be with you, Angel? If that's okay with you..." Niall trails off. I try to hide a smile and nod.

"Yep, cool."

•••••••

I'm sleeping in some old clothes that Harry lent me. When I go into the only small toilet in the vehicle, I look in the mirror and could get used to wearing it. It's sort of comforting. I would be cheesey and say it smelt like him, but to be honest I'm exactly sure what he smells like yet.

I wipe my little makeup off with a wet tissue (the boys obviously don't have any on board) and rake a comb through my hair. It falls about halfway down my back and is an odd sort of golden brown colour. The end is platinum-ish because I bleached it a couple of summers ago, and although it wrecked my hair, I couldn't be bothered to cut it off.

I luckily have a hair tie around my wrist, and I pull my hair into a simple low ponytail. I stare into the mirror, wandering how I ended up in a caravan with one direction. My dark green eyes stare back at me.

My skin has never been clear, and it has obviously decided to break out, because I have more blackheads than ever on my nose, and nothing to cover it up with.

I'm quite pale for someone who spends every minute of their day outside most of the time. I have freckles around my nose and cheeks, which I normally cover up. I have eyebrows which grow all over the place if they aren't regularly plucked, and naturally long eyelashes. I'm quite insecure about my appearance, which is how I got into makeup. I started a YouTube channel when I was 14 and my best video got 70,000 views, but the rest for about thirty. My max subscribers were 2k, but I never uploaded again when I started getting cyber bullied through YouTube comments. I never told anyone.

I realise I have been standing in front of the mirror for quite some time.

"Do I look alright?" I murmur to the mirror. Naturally, the mirror doesn't answer.

I look around the bathroom. There's a small shower and a cupboard overflowing with stuff. I spy some deodorant and spray it on me. Don't judge me, okay? I have none, and I don't want Harry Styles to smell my sweaty armpits. Is that so weird?

A knock from the door jerks me to my senses. I quickly put the deodorant back and open the door. Louis stands outside, eyebrows raised.

"Well well well. Look who's all pretty," he says, and whistles. "Go for it, love," he whispers to me, winking. I'm confused, and I guess he can see it, because he smirks.

"Harry." Is all he says. I giggle nervously and roll my eyes, pushing past him. Harry is already in the small bed. I take a breath and climb up the ladder to his bunk. He smiles softly and I want to scream because his dimples.

Instead, I smile back, and sit cross legged on the bed.

"Hey," I somehow say calmly.

"Hello. Sorry it's such a small bed."

"It's okay."

"I love your accent so much. Australians are the best," Harry says.

"Ha, I wish. Your accent is the cutest thing," I say, and regret it. Why? Why? Why? 'The cutest thing'. What the hell?! But Harry laughs.

"I get that a lot."

We talk for a while, and I almost forget that we are stranded with no way of getting out of this desert.

"Okay, lights out, guys," Liam calls, and someone turns the light off. I arrange myself next to Harry, and try to take up as little space as possible. I am all too aware of Harry's breathing.

"Goodnight, Angel," he breaths.

"Goodnight, Harry." I swear he moves his head closer to mine, and our faces are almost touching. "Sorry in advance if I snore."

"Me too."

Kiss me. Kiss me. Of course he won't. He's Harry Styles, I'm a silly fan.

I want to reach out and stroke his beautiful curly hair, but before I can do something stupid, Harry reaches out and tucks a strand of my hair between my ear. I close my eyes and smile widely at the intimate gesture.

And suddenly I'm asleep.