DUNKIRK | HARRY STYLES

[Scene Eighteen]

"So why this place?" I asked Harry, slipping my hand through the crook of his arm and resting my head on his shoulder. His fingers weaved through mine and pulled our joined hands to rest on his chest, just above where his heart was.

"This is where I come to clear my head. When things get all... muddled I sit here and look at the city. It reminds me that there are thousands of people who have their own worries and problems too. Knowing that there are others out there who sometimes struggle helps me somehow," His face was so earnest and honest I felt a swelling inside of my chest as my heart grew to accommodate the love I felt for him.

I looked out over the view. London was spread out before us, lights blinking and a melody of sirens playing. I'd never seen a city look so alive as it did in that moment, with the last shimmer of the sun catching the mirrored buildings and the slow stream of rush hour traffic winding through the roads.

It was easy to see how it could help to breathe in the beauty of it all.

"I've been coming here a lot recently because I've had some big decisions to make," Harry explained. He turned towards me, stars both papered on the sky above him and hidden in the depths of his eyes. He took my breath away.

"What kind of decisions?" I asked. His expression worried me- the crease between his brows and the edges of his mouth turned down.

"I'm recording an album soon." He said. I grinned widely, opening my mouth to say congratulations- but then he carried on. "I'm recording it in Jamaica. I'm going to Jamaica for two months."

I didn't know what to say. On one hand, I was ecstatic for him, knowing that this experience would shape his career but on the other, selfish hand, I knew that this would mean our blossoming relationship could be nipped in the bud. 

My face was like an open book and Harry was an avid reader. He noticed the conflict battling inside of me and looped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in for a tight hug. I breathed in his scent- mint and fresh linen. 

"I was thinking, I mean, I was hoping that maybe you could come with me." I pulled back from him, my eyes wide with shock. Come with him- to Jamaica? He noted my surprise and added, "Or you could just visit when you had some time. Maybe after Dunkirk's finished filming?"

"Harry.." I said. It was all just so much to take in at once. We'd barely started- dating? fucking? I had no idea. Nevertheless, our relationship was like a newborn baby; fragile and breakable. Moving to Jamaica with him for two months was a huge step, even for a stable couple. It was a romantic gesture but internally I knew it wasn't healthy for us.

But I also knew that no guy had ever drawn me in so inexplicably before. Whatever I had with Harry I was desperate to hold onto to, in fear that I would never feel like this again. 

"I know this is all so much and I'm being crazy suggesting that you should fly to Jamaica just to see me but I really like you India. I like you so much it scares me half to death." He took a deep breath, skimming his eyes across the darkening horizon then turned back to me. "So please just say you'll come and see me."

He was laying all his cards out on the table; no games, no tricks. It was refreshing after years of emotional abuse at Seth's hands. And how could I say no? I didn't want to. I liked Harry so much it scared me too. I couldn't let him go.

"Of course. I'll fly out as soon as Dunkirk's finished filming." I said. The smile that spread over his face was golden. 

He leant down and brought our lips together. I kissed him ferociously, aware that every second was now precious. 

We silently made a promise to each other- our only witness the city before us.

/ 

I spent the morning cocooned in Harry's arms. We lazily made love to each other over and over again, trying to memorise every inch of the other person's body. It would be weeks before we saw each other again- both of us were making the most of the precious little time we had.