The Run Away Girl || Harry Styles

Chapter 18

"You're awfully quiet to have just escaped a load of punishment," Harry observes absent mindedly, picking at the new flesh colored bandage that had been wrapped around his battered knuckles.

Even as relieved and stunned as we had been to have just escaped trouble, Harry's injury was still in the forefront of my mind. Judging by the small maroon specks that had begun to seep through the fabric of the tee, I knew Harry's hand needed attention. Without giving it a second thought, I took Harry to my hotel room, quietly let us inside, and motioned for him to sit on the edge of the bed so that I could doctor his hand up.

Growing up accident prone, I had watched my mom patch up enough of my own injuries to feel confident enough to tend to Harry's bleeding hand. I knew the gashes weren't deep enough to require medical attention, although I was baffled by the extent to which the steering wheel had peeled back his skin so easily.

I suspected I would need peroxide, gauze, and a bandage, but I had no idea if I actually had any of it. Thankfully, upon rummaging through the first aid kit that had lived untouched in the bottom of my suitcase for who knows how long, I found what I thought to be sufficient supplies to adequately doctor the four small abrasions on Harry's knuckles.

Harry winced in pain when I poured peroxide over his jagged cuts, causing my heart to sink to the pit of my abdomen. Even being as gentle as I could, I was still causing Harry pain. For Harry's sake, I wanted to be done, but I couldn't seem to finish fast enough. When I finally peeled the plastic wrapper on the back of the band aide, I let out a deep sigh of relief. I must have been holding my breath the entire time. I knew I was helping Harry by bandaging his cut, but the pain that I had caused him in the process was excruciating.

Since then, a thick cloud of pleasant silence had filled the room. Somehow we both ended up on my bed, the two of us lying on our backs, our eyes glued to the stark white ceiling overhead.

My head rests on Harry's stomach where it rises and falls with each of his subtle breaths. Harry's long fingers glide through my hair while his other hand effortlessly grazes against my arm. The feeling of his body against mine makes my skin prick with heat, and my heart thumps loudly in my chest against my will.

"I just can't believe that happened," I exhale, finally responding to Harry's observation.

"I know the feeling," Harry mumbles quietly. "It's crazy, isn't it?"

"Mhm. Absolutely mind blowing."

I can tell Harry's breathing has softened because I no longer feel my head bobbing up and down as strongly as it had previously. Harry's mind had obviously wandered elsewhere. He inhales sharply as if he is about to speak, but he holds his breath instead, as if the mere mention of whatever he is about to say scares him to say aloud.

A few seconds pass, and Harry finally speaks, his tone raspy and forced. "Have you thought... thought that maybe we didn't get caught for a reason?"

"What do you mean?" I nervously run my fingers through my hair, flinching slightly when my pinkie finger brushes against Harry's hand.

"I don't know. I've been thinking about it since I saw the note on your mom's door. Maybe we're supposed to stay together, and this right here is a sign."

Even though I can't see him, I can practically feel the anxiety being purged from his body as he explains his thought with confidence.

"Think about it. There should have been no reason why we weren't caught, and yet here we are. All the odds were against us, but we still beat them. It's like we are perpetual. Like this is meant to be. Not even the gods could separate the two of us, Al!"