No Matter What // Harry Styles AU -- Dunkirk inspired

Chapter Twenty Two

Harry pulls me close, closer than I've ever been held by any one else, let alone a man. When his hands drop around my lower back, I'm nearly paralyzed by the serenity of the moment.

All I can see is him.

All I can feel his him.

All I want is him.

Harry rests his forehead against my own as we sway. His soft brown tufts of hair curl slightly at the edges, tickling my skin.

"You're a singer aren't you, Roses," his low voice gently caresses my skin, warming it like a soft blanket.

"Nothing like you," I reply quietly. "Really Harry, your voice is something marvelous."

Harry ignores my compliment, and simply closes his eyes and continues to hum, swaying ever so gently in the middle of the street, underneath a crowd of stars.

"I should be getting you home, Roses."

"Mhmm," I reply, not able to muster the words that will pull us a part. 

The church bells from the town square suddenly ring out twelve sharp chimes.

"Oh goodness," I gasp under my breath, "Can it really be midnight already?"

"You really are Cinderella," Harry grins as I peal away from him. I walk past him, swatting his arm playfully before bending down to grab my coat. He flashes his cheeky grin and adorable dimples.

"Let me take you home."

Harry walks the bike over to me, but when I go to grab it he playfully pulls it away.

"I got it," he smiles kindly.

We gab about funny parts of the movie, poking fun at one another as we journey back home. When we hit the bridge leading out of town, the conversation seems to come to a still.

"So what's America like?" Harry asks almost nervously. I look over at him, and he shakes his head as if he doesn't like the question, but it warms my heart because it takes me back to our first walk home. I think just walking and talking might be one of my favorite thing to do with Harry.

"I dunno, really," I answer.

Harry chuckles slightly, "What do you mean you don't know? You haven't been faking that accent of yours, have you?"

"First of all" I point at him, smiling, "you're the one with the accent."

"Oh is that how this works," Harry grins.

"And second of all, it's hard to explain."

"Try me." I focus on my feet while I try to make sense of my own feelings, let alone phrase it in a way that doesn't make me sound as dumb as I already do.

"It's just... I feel like I haven't really gotten to know England all that well. I can't really tell what's English and what's just my Grandparents being strange."

"They're a pretty good English pair," Harry laughs lightly. 

"So.." Harry's voice trails slightly, "Does this mean your family back home very different then?" Harry's eyes remain fixed forward.

I let out a loud cackle at the thought my troop of a family visiting here. "I think Grandfather would have a heart attack if he met all of us."

"Rowdy lot?"

"There's five of us, kids that is."

Harry stops and faces me. "five?"

I tilt my head toward Harry, and giggle, "They call us the Chapman clan."