medicine {h.s.}

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

january.

I've hardly ever left Seattle. For as many times as I've said this was a conscious choice resulting from my adoration of Seattle, I know that my financial instability played just as much of a role in that situation. I never had the monetary freedom to spend the weekend somewhere fun. I never had the luxury of requesting time off. From the moment that my mother left me, I was on my own. Survival became a lot more important than traveling the world. Every penny counts, and I quickly learned how far I could make every penny go when I cut out the unnecessary expenses.

But now as I am in a plane circling around Manhattan, I can't believe how wrong I was.

Harry is on my right. He'd offered me the window seat when he saw how nervous I was about flying. Through the hospital we were allotted first class travel. Britt is across the aisle from us, and she's been knocked out since take off. She insisted that we would be smart to follow in her footsteps, and Harry wasted no time in falling asleep. As soon as we cleared take off, his head was nestled against my shoulder and soft snores fell through his parted lips. He moves a lot in his sleep. Consistently, he was adjusting himself to a more comfortable position. I didn't mind, necessarily; but, this was synonymous with his snuggling in closer to my side. Each movement prompted his curly hair to tickle the side of my neck. Ticklish as I am, I fought to maintain my position each time—not wanting to wake him from his otherwise peaceful slumber. Contrarily, I couldn't sleep. My nerves were through the roof. It's my first time on a plane, and I found it quite hard to lower my guard enough to sleep.

"Wow," I sigh in awe as the plane circles around Manhattan once more before beginning the final descent into JFK airport. "It's beautiful." I hadn't spoken the words to anyone in particular. They were the type of words that seemed too honest and truthful to remain inside. Even if no one heard them—aside from me—I needed to speak into existence my thoughts on the beauty of the New York skyline. Buildings towering over buildings, I suddenly understand precisely why they are called skyscrapers.

"It is," Harry agrees, his lips brushing against my neck as he stirs.

Finally awake, I give him a small nudge off my shoulder. He starts, and jets up. There's a slight tinge to his cheeks, reassuring me that his positioning hadn't been intentional. "Have you been?" I question, the plane shaking with some turbulence.

Flying hadn't freaked me out as much as I had thought it would.

While it isn't necessarily my favorite feeling, there was nothing so obviously wrong about it. I don't hate it in the way that I had assumed that I would have. Leading up to our departure, I'd spoken with Harry about my nerves. He'd prepared me for the worst: turbulence, lightning strikes, and horrible conditions galore. Save from some turbulence presently experienced, nothing is as bad as I would have anticipated it to be. In fact, I would even dare to say I found the experience somewhat enjoyable. "Yeah," Harry answers almost immediately, rolling his neck to stretch out the position he'd been resting in. "Haven't you?"

"No," I admit quietly, a light blush tinging my cheeks. I've never experienced much embarrassment stemming from my lack of worldly experience. In that way, it was lucky I didn't have many friends. Otherwise, I'd definitely had been more conscious of my lack of travel experience.

Quickly, I avert my gaze from Harry. I didn't want him to know that he'd embarrassed me. Since our budding friendship erupted, he's been a lot better about choosing his battles. Simultaneously, he's been a lot more concerned in how his words impact me. Simply stated: he seems to care. Typically, I find this shift endearing. Today, I almost wish for the old Styles. The one who didn't care if we made conversation or sat in absolute silence. "You haven't?" He questions, not picking up on the shift in my body language. Or, if he does, he doesn't seem to care.