Written

Chapter 40

HAYLEY

When I wake up in the morning, Harry's head is on my shoulder and his arm is thrown across my chest. I look down at his sleeping face and my heart is filled with such a strong love that it quite literally takes my breath away. My arm is wrapped around his back and I bring my hand up to run it through his curls. His eyelids flutter but he does not open them. A small smile crosses his face and his arm tightens, pulling us closer together.

"Hey," I say softly. I cannot help the smile on my lips right now.

"Mmmm," he says, burying his head in my neck. I continue to run my fingers through his hair and we lay in comfortable silence. My mind won't stop thinking about last night, the way he moved...

"We have to go soon," I murmur. It is 8 a.m., and our flight leaves at noon. The best part about traveling with Harry is that I don't have to be there early. No plane will leave without Harry on board if he is supposed to be on board.

"Let's just stay here," Harry says against my neck.

"I wish we could," I sigh. And I do. I wish I had a little more time to be with Harry, alone. Even to be with him and his family. The last week was so wonderful, for the first time I felt like we were a genuine couple. Selfishly, I find myself dreading going back. I do miss the other boys though, and Paul. I wonder what happens now. Do Harry and I continue to hide our relationship? I used to wonder if it was even a relationship, but now I know that it is. All of the I love yous and intimacy, the fact that Harry doesn't love people, all of that reminds me that this is very real. I am terrified of how real it is, under such extreme circumstances.

"What are you thinking about?" Harry asks.

"You," I smile, ruffling his hair. It's true, I am always thinking about him.

"Are you worrying?" He asks. He knows me too well.

"Yeah," I whisper.

"What are you worried about? Talk to me." He sits up and we lay on our sides, face to face.

"I'm worried about Paul. About what he'll say and if he'll be mad. And I'm worried about what people will say about both of us. I'm worried about the press and the media and those pictures they took of us when you were holding my hand. I'm worried about your fans because they probably won't love me anymore after this. I'm worried about-" Harry's hand covers my mouth, cutting me off.

"So everything," he laughs. "You're literally worried about everything."

"Kind of," I say.

"I wish I could tell you what to do about that," he says. "But I'm worried, too."

"What are you worried about?" I ask.

"The same stuff, mostly," he says. "I'm worried about you a lot."

"What about me?"

"I don't know, I worry that you'll be hurt by my life. I know you will, at some point or another. I'm worried about how our relationship will affect our jobs, yours in particular. My job is pretty secure," he smirks. "I think I'm worried that...that you'll leave, eventually. That you'll get tired of the lifestyle and tired of me. Or that it will all be too much for you. You didn't ask for any of this, any of the things that come with this life."

I press my palm to Harry's cheek. I wish that I could reassure him, promise that I won't get tired of it. I wish that I could say he's wrong and that I won't get hurt, but I would be lying to myself. His lifestyle has already hurt me and I know it is bound to happen again. Most of all, I wish that I could tell him that I'll never leave. But I learned long ago never to make promises that you might not be able to keep. "I love you," I whisper. Harry places his hand over mine on his face and kisses me so sweetly that I can feel my heart quivering.

...

After we are both showered and dressed, I make sure Liam's apartment is as clean as it is when we arrived. Harry calls someone to carry our bags down to the car and then we leave. Mercifully, there are no cameras at the airport when we arrive. We are escorted to the tarmac and onto the plane. This time we are not alone in First Class, but none of the fancy business people pay us any mind. I don't even see anyone give Harry a second glance.

Harry takes the aisle seat, giving me access to the window. I watch London sprawl out underneath us and for a moment I am disturbed by how small I feel. Thirty thousand feet above a beautiful city, the sky is cloudless and I can see for miles. The thought crosses my mind that this world is so big, but so small all at once. I cannot wrap my mind around how that could be possible. London seems so big, but from here it is so small. Harry seems so big, but I've seen him become so, so small.

Flying high above London, it's easy to believe I might never have even been there in the first place. I left nothing behind, no mark, so sign that says "I was here." I worry that my mind sees London as a metaphor for Harry's heart. It's small really, but it's big when you're lost in it. I don't ever want to look back at Harry's heart and come to the realization that it's as if I was never there.

HARRY

The plane touches down in Orlando and we have no time to even contemplate jetlag. We are whisked straight from the airport to the arena, and I feel Hayley holding her breath as I take her hand. I know that we will be within the sight of fans in just a moment and I have no intention of letting go. It's terrifying to both of us, but I don't let it show.

I hear the screams before I see the gaggles of girls. I can't make out their faces or their true reactions, all I hear is high-pitched shrieks. That's how it is most of the time anyway, so I make out little difference. Hayley keeps her head down and hides her face until we are in the arena. I firmly keep hold of her hand when I see Paul approaching us, though I feel her trying to squirm away. We walk right past Paul. Hayley averts her eyes, but I meet Paul's. He dramatically rolls his eyes at me and then gives me a jerk of his head, as if to say "Whatever." Hayley lets out a deep breath once he is gone.

We enter the greenroom backstage and our appearance causes an uproar. I let go of Hayley's hand as four figures come running at us. Louis picks Hayley up and swings her around, whooping loudly. Zayn is already in my face shouting about some new song idea he had. Niall is just letting out this really loud and continuous yell, drowning out all other sound. Liam hangs back at first before approaching. He throws his arms around me and pounds my back, which is a little weird. Liam and I are very close, a lot closer than we used to be, but physical contact between us is rare. I am about to ask if he's okay before Paul enters the room with a group of people I've never seen before.

"Everyone, I want to introduce you to our staff," he indicates the three people standing behind him. "We've got Jim and Mack, who will be on stage setup, and Sharon," he points to a blonde girl standing next to him, "who will be joining the styling team." We all go around shaking hands. They all seem nice but I know I'll be seeing little of them, apart from maybe the girl. She reminds me of Hayley in a way, only blonde. A clearly fake, overly-chemical blonde.

"I'm so glad there's someone else here my age," the girl crows in Hayley's face. Hayley offers her a terse smile and a handshake, clearly tense and passive. Why? Hayley is usually so warm and inviting. Paul takes them back out of the room and we all go back to our conversations. Hayley sits next to me on the couch, leaning away from me and looking distracted. Louis sits on my other side and looks pointedly at Hayley, his eyes asking "what's up with her?" I shrug my shoulders, perplexed. Suddenly Hayley's voice sounds next to me.

"Liam, can I talk to you for a second?" Liam's head snaps up from his sketchbook, a knowing look on his face. He just nods. "Alone?" Hayley asks, standing up. Liam stands too, and without another word or even a glance at anyone else, they walk out of the room.