Chiller (harry styles)

26: Little Butterflies

His hand is wrapped around mine.

The feeling is like home, like the rush of a sparkling river which meets in the middle of my heart. I never think I will get enough of the rush I get from being with him. And I never want to.

He has taken me to his bike, because apparently the school nurse has approved strip throat and anxiety for the both of us. I suppose if you are good looking like Harry and rich like me people will listen to you, and you can do as you please. I don't like taking advantage of people, but I don't think Harry seems to care.

"I'm not afraid of doing this, this class skipping." I inform him as I climb in behind him. I don't want him to think I'm being a baby.

He starts the motor, and I feel a warm jolt of electricity from his laughter.

"Skipping class? That is one of the funniest things you've said yet."

I feel my eyebrows lean toward each other in my face.

"That is what we are doing. Not everybody does bad things all the time. " I tell him.

He snorts.

"Oh, sure. Baby, I swear sometimes you were built by the angels." He mumbles.

"What?" I say, because I didn't really hear him.

"I said that's insane. You got permission from the nurse and the office to leave school, but you still feel like some badass." He explains, and we drive off into the street.

I purse my lips to dare him to say something else, but end up staying silent. The silence is unusual between us. But as he drives us through the town and out into the middle of now where, the peaceful serenity takes me over. I like this.

He parks the bike and we both get off. He looks around him wildly. For a second I believe you might be looking for somebody, like he called them and now he us waiting with me here next to the forest, but he is really just looking for somewhere to hide the bike while we adventure the trees.

"There's a nice one." I tell him.

I point to a space behind a tree where a bunch of bushy leaves lie, dangling from the leaning tree behind it.

"What if the damn thing crushes my bike?" He huffs, his brow creased.

I sigh.

"Well, I don't think it will."

He shrugs, and lifts the bike into his arms and hoists it above his head. Once it is in the shady spot and he is back out in the open air facing me again, I know I am in pure awe.

"How are you so strong? That isn't normal." I blurt out.

Well, I am sure he knows that. But I stated the obvious anyway. He doesn't answer me or even act like he hears me.

He holds his hand out to me.

"Come with me." He says, and I take a step forward and clutch his outstretched hand.

He completely surprises me by swirling me as if we are dancing, then putting my on his back like a piggy ride.

I cling to his back like a cat to the velcro of its toy pole, and we glide, literally glide through the green of the forest, my eyes wide open and burning with tears from the air. Its as if I am afraid to close then, even though it would feel a lot less painful if I did. Afraid because if I do the beauty of all this might go away. He might go away.

The sky is seen through little patches through the trees and it looks like the sea has been placed over the trees, like a whole hoard of rain being kept behind a shield of glass, just waiting for something, some bird or other, to burst it open.