That's when they took him from me. A Harry Styles Fan Fiction.

Twenty Nine - Ski With Me.

IN THE PAST.

GOING SKIING.

“No, I don’t want to go on it, I’ll walk! It’s way too high.” I wined to Harry who was trying to make me go on those stupid chairs that are about 1093778492 metres off the floor that take you to the top of the mountain.

There was no hope in hell I would ever be able to go on one of those without soiling my pants.

“Oh, come on Tayla. It’s not even that high!” He argued.

“NOT THAT HIGH?!” I shouted back at him, pointing to the chairs as they moved along the thick steel wire.

“Tayla, come on!”

“No.” I crossed my arms over my chest childishly, tapping my foot on the pure white snow that lay perfectly under my feet.

He turned on his heel, walking away from me, my back was facing him. Before I even knew what was happening I was slung over the curly boys shoulder as he ran towards to chairs.

Oh my god.

Stop.

“Harry!” I shrieked, bashing my fists into his back.

“Harry stop!” I shouted again, but to no avail. 

His footsteps started to slow as he wearily approached the chairs.

“Two tickets please.”

Harry, I swear.

The plump man handed Harry the two tickets with a false smile that framed his lips. Harry nodded politely to the man and placed me down on the chair. He wrapped his hand around my waist and lowered the bar, locking us both in before I managed to scramble out of his grip. I crossed my arms across my chest and refused to look at the curly haired boy who was looking at me smirking, trying to fight back the constant giggle that was struggling not to slip from his lips.

The chairs stood still for a few minutes.

Then they started to move.

Oh my god.

Holy shit

I’m. Going. To. Die.

I panicked in my seat as the ground slipped away from underneath my feet.

“Harry!” I bit my trembling bottom lip as I clutched onto the cool metal bar in front of me.

I pulled up the furry hood that hung from the back of my big eskimo jacket, up over my head and closed my eyes.

It was still freezing, even though I was wearing about 6 layers of clothing.

I heard Harry giggle under his breath as he brought his arm around my shoulder. I leaned into him and buried my head into his chest.

“Harry, I hate you, oh my god.” I mumbled into his chest.

He just laughed and continued to stroke his hand through my hair.

“I love you, too.” 

I punched his chest lightly and he clutched the spot where I’d hit him.

I could hear the boys laughing and acting as if they weren’t even fazed that they were a billion metres off the ground.

They were in the next couple of chairs behind us. 

Zayn and Louis.

Niall and Liam.

The chairs stopped suddenly and we were left there hanging and rocking back and fourth in the air.

“Harry! What? Why did it stop? Why aren’t we moving? Is it broken? Why is it still rocking? Why is-” I rambled on before I was cut off.