Just keep breathing

Chapter 62

Katie's perspective

As I turn down the long road that will eventually lead me to the stark black gates fronting Harry's London home, the butterflies in my stomach start to whirl in earnest.

It's already been a long morning, my trip to the police station turned up no usable prints on the car, as expected. They had taken the sheet to test and insisted that I spend over an hour retelling the story of what Louis and I found when we returned to the car and giving a statement.

Continually having to rehash the events of that night is doing nothing for my stress levels and I felt utterly drained before I even started the journey to Harry's. A part of me was tempted to cancel, but I know I will regret it if I don't hear him out and at the very least, say a proper goodbye to him. So here I am, winding my way through the Hampstead traffic.

Harry's perspective

No, not that shirt. She likes it when I wear button-downs. I think to myself as I rummage through my wardrobe for something decent to wear.

Why do all my shirts have to have stupid prints on them? I curse, throwing ones covered in hearts or flowers into an ever-growing pile at the foot of my bed, today is not the day for prints.

I recheck my phone, 3:55pm. She should be arriving any time now. I spent a large part of the plane journey home worrying that as soon as I turned my phone back on, I'd have a text from her saying she'd changed her mind, but thankfully, so far so good. I just hope she listens to me, I hope I can convince her.

Finally, I locate a light blue short-sleeved shirt from amongst the carnage and pull it over my shoulders, scrambling to do up the buttons just as I hear the familiar sound of the outer gates opening. She's here.

Katie's perspective.

As Toby opens the large black gates to allow me through and onto Harry's drive, I push the long tangles of hair away from my forehead nervously, my hands are slick with sweat.

Why am I so nervous? Turning off the ignition, I reach down and smooth out the black jeans I opted to wear and straighten my baby blue hoodie around my neck. Why did I wear a hoodie? Because you wanted to be casual, I remind myself as I wrap my hand through the straps of my handbag on the passenger seat and pull it to my side.

Looking up, I see Harry rushing to approach my door, one hand raised to ask me to wait for him to open it for me. Ever the gentleman I think to myself as I take in his appearance.

He's wearing a light blue button-down shirt, either I've interrupted him getting ready or he's only buttoned the lowest three buttons purposefully. The large butterfly tattoo that adorns his midsection peaks through the fabric, his exposed chest contrasting against the black fabric of his tight skinny jeans. I can't help the small sigh that escapes my throat at the sight of him.

He is perfect, as always. His beautiful dark hair, which is beginning to curl slightly as it grows, is pushed back from his forehead haphazardly and sticks up in random spots, but it does nothing but make him look all the more attractive.

As he approaches the car, a hand reaching out in preparation towards my door handle, I can't help but notice the slight purple smudges under his eyes. He's tired. I guess its been a long week for both of us.

"Hey," He says quietly, a small smile which doesn't quite reach his eyes, forming on his lips as he pulls open the car door and reaches a hand around to help me out

"Hey, thank you," I reply my gaze fixed on the ground, unable to meet those startlingly green eyes of his that I know will undo any willpower I am managing to retain the moment I allow myself to look into them.