Rain | Harry Styles

3.7

'heart on your sleeve like you've never been loved.'

(friends - chase atlantic)

-

H.

"This is a flight I never thought I'd be on again," I said honestly, as the captain announced that we would now be landing at the Sea-Tac airport. 

"Me neither, mate, to be honest," Liam shrugged, "remind me only ever to catch long, cramped flights like this for hot guys with lots of money."

I chuckled, "I'll do my best."

I leant back into my seat, turning my attention back to the window as I plugged an earphone into each ear, allowing my music to blast. I shot Liam another glance as he hummed quietly to himself, nervously dragging his lip between his teeth as the plane took a left, headed for the runway.

Liam was absolutely shitting himself - it was pretty obvious in the way he couldn't seem to keep still; his left knee constantly shaking upwards and downwards in anticipation, and his hands fidgeting in a never-ending movement. I didn't blame him. Liam had always been pretty close to his dad, and for him to fall ill with something as brutal as cancer. Liam had no idea what condition his dad would be in - knowing Liam, that was what scared him most. He was somebody who liked to be aware of everything - always - spontaneity had never particularly been his strong suit like it was mine; he liked to be aware, and at this moment in time - he wasn't.

I wasn't sure what to say to him, really - what to tell him. I wished there was some kind of reassurance I could provide him with to make his worries go away - but words didn't come, and the silence took over like it always seemed to.

We landed and grabbed our bags with little conversation in between, only a slight delay when an obnoxious woman took an age to get her bag from the overhead compartment - and when I offered to grab it for her due to her clear struggling, she'd stupidly chided in response, "What, you think I can't get my own bag 'cause I'm a woman?", to which I'd simply rolled my eyes and allowed the plane to be held up for another five or so minutes. Fucking Americans.

As I slipped into the cab beside me and we began to move along the street, the knot in my stomach beginning to tighten as the town I'd become so familiar with drew back into view. A town I could never truly leave behind.

I knew it was only a matter of days before I'd see her again; went back to that godawful school at the request of my Mum to complete my final month of school, and then graduate. I knew I'd inevitably have to face her, and though I'd desperately tried to convince myself otherwise - I would not be able to brush past her in the hallway without saying a word, pass her in the street without a second look, or return to normal without crossing her path, no matter how hard I tried.

I sighed, sinking further into the backseat of the cab and running a hand through my hair, exhaling deeply once more as I mentally reminded myself to cut it soon. I'd trimmed it every so often back in Manchester in attempts to tame the unruly curls, but it now it reached my shoulders as it had before, and I'd yet to get round to booking a haircut - not to mention the fact I barely had a tenner to spare to get one. Another mental note was made to get a bloody job for a bit while I was in town. 

"Haz," Liam murmured suddenly, stirring me from a slumber I wasn't aware I'd fallen into, "We're here, c'mon."

"Mm?" I hummed, lifting my head from the window and wincing a little at the sharp pain in my neck caused by the position I'd slept in, blinking back the sleep already prominent in my eyes. Though it must've been less than an hour, it was the most I'd slept in weeks undisturbed - with no haunting dreams and nightmares, and with no reminders of her. I yearned to fall back into that.