About (Harry Styles)

26.

Hot.

It's too hot. I can barely breathe properly. There's nothing but a swarming blanket of hot, humid air breathing back at me.

It's almost suffocating.

When I open my eyes, it doesn't take me long to realize that Harry Styles' body is laying right beside me. His chin is aligned against with the tip of my forehead as I'm eye level with his broad neck.

The first thing that comes to my mind is to scream and to kick him off the bed.

But I can't find the slightest desire to.

The proximity of our bodies is less than an inch away yet why am I being so irrational as to not do anything?

 I think I'm just too much in shock. 

Turning my head upward slightly and carefully, I steal a glance to survey the features on his face. My curious eyes travel from the outlines of his subtle smile lines, to the small pout of his pink lips, to his long, bridged nose, all the way to his long, dark lashes which are definitely longer than mine.

When I found him all alone in the middle of the night at the country club a few days ago and he told me he was running from the cops, I took it as a joke.

Maybe it wasn't a joke. Maybe he is running from something.

When he asked me those peculiar questions last night, I felt as though something was wrong.

Maybe something is wrong.

"Have you ever felt pressured?"
"Do you ever feel like you're stuck?"

What kind of questions are those? They're not normal questions people ask others.

Maybe that's why he's here on this cruise. To run away from something that's obviously bothering him.

Yet here I am with him, ruining his plans, invading his space when he wanted to be alone.

A gentle groan escapes his throat as he starts to wake, his eyes fluttering open to the sunlit room. I close my eyes quickly, pretending I'm still asleep so that he doesn't catch me looking at him.

I don't hear anything as the next few seconds pass, and for a moment, I feel my heart beating quicker against my rib cage. The bed never manages to make any sound, meaning he is still next to me, in the same position.

The thought of him looking at me, speculating me just like how I did him, crosses my mind. My cheeks begin to flare out of embarrassment at my inference. I shift my back towards him and mimic a moan, trying to convince him that I'm still asleep.

And I think he bought it.

The bed jumps slightly, signaling his leave, alleviating the pace of my aberrant chest.

I hear the sound of a door opening from the direction of the bathroom and once it closes, I rise up from the bed and immediately unhinge - mentally scorning, detracting, ridiculing myself as to why I'm being so .. so creepy!

I should have never said anything to him last night and let him suffer in the cold. I wouldn't be feeling like this if I had simply stayed put.

"You up?" A voice chimes through the room and my muscles tense at the sound.

"Yeah," I reply with an awkward smile as our eyes meet from across the room. He's now wearing a plain white shirt, thank goodness.

"I was just gonna call for some breakfast. Are you hungry for something?"

"Umm," I bite my bottom lip, thinking of what I want. Cocoa puffs do sound really good right now. However, I don't want to be anymore of a burden than I already am. "Anything is fine."