There were butterflies in my stomach, I swear I could feel each of them flap their wings in there. Was it from what Harry may have implied? Or was it just the feeling of soaring through the sky at an awkward angle. If I wasn't on a plane going at incredible speed into the sky right now, it would probably be the first option. I felt slightly sick and my ears were popping. Luckily my mother told me to take a Gravol or else I'd probably puke. The drowsiness of it hasn't kicked in though, I felt quite awake probably from all the nerves.
I leaned back into my chair, the weight of my bun giving me a slight headache so I decided I'll take it out. I undid the elastic as my long straight brown hair falls in the least attractive way possible down my shoulders. I swear even with my flat hair It looked like a lion's mane. I don't know how chicks make it looks so good in movies. I patted my slightly tangled hair down and realized with the God sitting beside me, I must look like a mess. I wasn't exactly wearing anything to make an impression on anyone.
My black v-neck was crinkled, my ripped jeans were too tight and uncomfortable, and my white Nike's were actually anything but white. I didn't want to think about how my face must look, all my mascara probably rubbed underneath my eyes and patchy foundation sticking to my face. Luckily I packed some sweatpants and makeup remover in my backpack. I wanted to wear them to the airport, but my mother thought I should look 'presentable'. I argued with her before leaving until I negotiated and said I'd just pack some sweats in my backpack. My Nike's were fairly new too, my sister bought them for me not too long ago when my Converse I had for ages finally had too many rips I couldn't wear them anymore. She has the better taste in fashion and trends so she picked these mud attracting shoes.
My thoughts about shoes were interrupted by Harry attempting to make small talk. I looked up at him and listened when he asked "so, I'm guessing you're Canadian then?" He asked referring to our previous conversation and also the fact we were took off from Pearson Airport in Toronto. I nodded then answered "yeah, my family is Italian though, I'm the only one who was born in Canada." Luckily, I kept my answer short. I usually go way into detail with my answers that no stranger would want to hear. "That's why you're going to Italy?" Harry asks referring to family. "Yup, I decided it was time to give myself a mental break from everything at home and visit my grandma. I haven't visited for about 3 years now so it's about time," I responded.
"Aboot time," Harry giggles mocking my accent.
"Aboot time to go to Italy," I joked chuckling to myself noticing I am such a fucking loser. However with my chuckles I also hear Harry's laughs too. I stare at him laughing quite a bit, his perfect smile lit up mine and his dimples showed more than ever. After what seemed like he was wiping a tear he finally said,
"sorry I'm a sucker for lame jokes. Always have been," He smiled a cheeky smile and I responded with one too.
"Thats really nice though, the trip to Italy visiting your grandma. I totally get the whole needing a break thing. I'm kind of on the same boat," Harry started to explain.
"How so?" I asked raising an eyebrow.
"For the past five years work has been really heavy on me, what I was doing was amazing don't get me wrong but there was a lot of pressure. Good pressure, but still pressure. Recently we decided on taking a break so we did so and after a couple months of doing nothing I got bored, I kind of made myself bored so I would want to get back into work ya know?" He looked at me and asked, I understood so I nodded. "After I got back into it, it was a lot again. It was different and I was working more independently but I loved it. After months of being extremely busy things have started to settle down again. The work I did definitely pay off but now I need some time to kind of chill a bit again. Just like you said, a break," He finished explaining.

YOU ARE READING
11 Hours // Harry Styles
Fanfiction11 hours sitting beside what seems like a complete stranger to her. but to the whole world, he definitely isn't a stranger. *A Harry Styles short story*