camp cherry two | hs

twenty one

i'm not even gonna say it

✩︎

HANA

"Okay, are you sure we have everything?" Harry asks once again; we're landing in twenty minutes and we've packed up all our stuff in preparation, planning to be one of the first to escape from the stuffy plane. There's a baby crying somewhere and they had been for the past half an hour, at least - I don't spend a lot of time around babies so my head is pounding, from the stress, too.

"Definitely," I confirm surely, though he insists on checking again, searching beneath the seats in front and behind us and politely asking Doris to move the bag by her feet a little just so he can make sure. Harry is a very stressful person to travel with, which doesn't particularly surprise me.

Fortunately, we already have everything sorted, and the light flickers on to signal for us to sit in our respective seats and secure ourselves with our seatbelts. Harry does the same for me once again, leaning over and buckling my belt tight enough to be safe but ensuring it isn't too restricting.

His hand instantly takes hold of mine, gripping it to stabilise himself and squeezing his eyes shut anxiously. I feel the nose of the plane begin to dip slightly as we start the incline through the air.

"Hold me, hold my hand," he mumbles, clutching my hand tighter as his jaw clenches and he tries his best to breathe.

"Deep breaths, Harrybaby, can you name me some fruits?" I speak quietly and clearly, making sure he hears me with the increased pressure in my head that's making me feel a little nauseous.

"Uh, apple, banana, cherry... fuck, why is this so scary?" he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, and I tug his hair gently to guide his head to rest on my shoulder as he continues, sometimes laughing quietly for a few moments when he struggles to think of one corresponding to the letter.

"We're almost there, look out the window, baby," I smile, glancing through the glass to see the beautiful city of Milan spread beneath us gracefully, full of life, and I suddenly remember it's several hours later than it would be in Florida; it should be seven in the morning but it's one in the afternoon, already throwing my sleep schedule way off.

"Woah," he whispers in complete awe, his eyes bright and childishly wide as he takes in the view. "Milan, Cherry," his tone is one of almost disbelief as he shifts to the side of the window and allows me to look, too.

"We're gonna have the best time, I promise," I smile widely, grabbing each side of his face and kissing him deeply just as the plane lands. I roll my eyes at the people cheering and clapping, and I'm pleasantly surprised to find that Harry isn't a clapper - that might've been a deciding factor in our relationship.

"Let's go," his eyes flash brightly as the seatbelt light switches off and people begin to stand up to stretch and get their bags from above. He lifts our backpack from the overhead bin, carrying the small plastic bag of mostly empty wrappers in his hand as he uses the other to pull me from my seat.

Hoping not to get lost, I keep a firm grip on his hand as we make our way to the exit. Harry smiles as we reach the door, hot air immediately surrounding us, and begins the descent down the stairs. No one else had made it out yet, so we take a moment longer on the last step, glancing at each other before walking onto Italian ground, and I'm positive this is going to be the best few days of my entire life.

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The ride to the hotel Anne would be getting married at is shorter than expected, only twenty minutes spent in a stuffy taxi with a driver who we thankfully understand, though his accent is much stronger than Harry and I's whenever we spoke in Italian. Apparently, it's a fancy, five-star hotel where the prices were ridiculously high, but as we pull up to the hotel, our jaws drop.