Chiller (harry styles)

41: London Lights

Sunset darkens in my eyes. A flash. The wave of a red, monstrous hand before my eyes. A vanishing plague of yellowing light. Another blink into eternity, and I wake, fully conscious and in the present world. I lie in Harry's arms, the quiet city of London idly watching us from below. We're up high, and I might believe we could be flying, but I don't feel the same now as when my angel has his wings extended, soaring us into the ever changing sky. My gaze follows a small bird nearby, whose flying west in the night. If it wasn't for the many lights of London below, I could not see the black bird.

Is it a raven, perhaps? I shake my head. No. It doesn't matter. It isn't her. It never can be. She's gone.

When I watch it fly higher, my head brushes Harry's shoulder. I see what we are standing on. The Big Ben clock is directly beside my face.

"Oh my, Harry! Why on Earth are we-" I am frantic and afraid, but I know my angel would never drop me. He holds me tighter than anyone could ever hold another being in the name of love and safety.

"When the people are all in bed asleep I'll soar us down." He tells me, his nose nuzzling my neck sweetly.

I look up at the sky again. It won't be long.

"Right." I say. "Because I think the London police could become involved if someone claims they saw an angel soaring off the top of Big Ben."

Harry laughs softly, his chest vibrating the feeling against my ribs.

"Or the closest insane asylum."

The city follows through a quiet buzz, slowly folding itself into the night. Late dreamers slump up their door steps and fumble on their keys. Harry tucks me closer to his chest, and I wrap my arms around him. He soars downward, and from my view his wings appear as a massive flapping, beautiful cape.

When we hit the street, a lamp light above us shivers, flickering with the impact of his wings whooshing against the wind. A brick building beside us has the green curtains pulled aside in the window of the top story. When I try to squint and see the shadow behind them, the curtains abruptly close.

I look up into the emerald eyes staring down at me in love and confusion.

"What?" I ask him, my eyes twitching under the squinting lamp.

He shakes his head a bit, then the corners of his mouth scrunch into some sort of tight ball. His dimples freeze prominently.

"Your hair, it shines like silk. Your eyes, they search the soul. Even the dark streets can't contain your sunlit beauty. You look like an otherworldly goddess. Are you human, Tahlia?" Harry brushes my hair from my face, his eyes gleaming.

I smile a little.

"I try my best to stay as human as possible."

A man on a bicycle whizzes by us.

Harry lifts me into his arms, turning the direction the bike came from.

"Where are we staying? A hotel?" I ask him.

He doesn't answer my question, just keeps steering us forward. I let my mind relax, calm itself into a great utopia in his arms. This will be a good thing, a worthy thing. Alone time also sounds like happy time. I can escape all the madness, and enjoy the beauteous simplicity of a first and only love.

He kisses my forehead, his lips weighing no more than the sprinkle dust from a cloud....the very thing of dreams!

"You need to rest, sweetie. We'll have more fun tomorrow. I promise you." He says, kissing my cheeks.

He takes me down a side street, and into a large roughed up building made of stone. There's a sign outside the door saying it's a hotel. I don't believe it one bit. It looks more like a jail to me.