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His breath tampered on my neck as he backed me into a corner.
"Look at me." he demands in a disturbingly-menacingly-calm tone.
I couldn't.
He wants to hurt me. He wants me dead.
I felt his paradoxically gentle, soft hand grip my chin...
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Charlotte Thompson
You never know who you're going to end up trusting in your lifetime. You could end up putting your trust in the person that you least expected to ever withhold it.
Trust is earned, and I don't trust easily.
But I do trust Harry. I trust him so much.
So much that I'm letting him take me back to his hometown.
When he proposed the idea in the hospital bed, he immediately followed up and told me that I don't have to accept because he was aware that it was a big trip to make for the two of us.
But after a minute of thinking, I took him up on his offer.
It's just a few days in his hometown with no trouble. Maybe I really do need it. And plus, I'd love to see where my boyfriend grew up.
Harry got discharged from the hospital yesterday morning at around 8 am. They gave him some medications and sent him on his way.
We waited an extra day in Los Angeles to make sure Ricky was alright, and it gave me more time to catch up with Zoe.
It felt good having my best friend again, despite how weird the circumstances were. She came back to Harry's suite and we talked and ate and had drinks while Harry caught up with the guys and Zayn.
Zoe's staying with Ricky now until he gets out of the hospital, and the guys will make sure they're both looked after.
We got up at 5 in the morning today and packed up Harry's suite. I wore some leggings and his hoodie while he wore his classic attire, jeans and a white shirt.
Now, we're boarding a private jet.
It's just going to be us and the jet crew on this flight, and it's a direct trip to Manchester. It's about 15 hours but if we sleep we'll kill some time.
The jet was big and glamorous, definitely fit for a celebrity like Harry. He used his riches to pay for the jet, even though he hates flying.
But we can't drive to England. So we have to fly.
We sit down across from each other, a brown table between our two chairs. There was a couch next to us. I watch as Harry closes the window cover next to him, not wanting to watch the take off happen.
I'm excited to do this with him. I think it'll be good for us and our relationship. We haven't been truly alone since we met, but this will give us the chance to not have to worry about anyone else, just ourselves.
He rests his head back against the seat, rubbing his sweaty palms down his jeans. His fear of heights causes him to hate airplanes, so it's no secret that he's a bit anxious right now.
