Stranded [harry styles] ✓

7

With the crying ban in full effect, Harry decides it's time to break into the coconut. He had retrieved the stone from the rock pool where we had found the plane door. Apparently just holding the 'man-made weapon', he'd never felt 'more masculine'. Given the female following I know full well has has, I find that hard to believe.

He sends me off to retrieve the tippee cups, during which I had forced myself to forget who they had belonged to.

Positivity only.

When I return, he's kneeling down in the sand with the coconut wedged between his thighs and a serious expression on his face. I notice his bare shoulders are peeling similarly to my forearms. If being stranded doesn't kill us - skin cancer surely will. 

"I'm probably supposed to have some sort of protective eye wear on." He tells me. "So try not to feel too guilty when I'm blinded in process of getting your breakfast."

He's smirking again.

"Oh, give it a rest." I roll my eyes at his incessant need to continually tease me about my breakfast request and place my hands on my hips with the tippee cups hooked around my left fingers.

I tilt my head up towards the sky and sigh, willing for a cloud to pass over. Will this heat ever let up? It's like a permanent sunbed here, one where the lid is trapped shut.

"Once you have finished sunning yourself," Harry chirps up. I flush. "Would you mind joining me over here?"

I hurry over and drop down on my knees opposite him in the sand; placing the tippee cups to my side. The sand runs into my jeans through the torn material and I make a mental note to swap them for the jersey shorts I had found in the feminine suitcase. Addie and Jules would ridicule me if they knew that salty, dried denim and the beach had actually existed in conjunction with one another. 

"I'm going pierce a hole in the top so that we can pour the milk into the tippee cups." Harry tells me, wearing the most serious expression I have seen on him yet. He has the pointed stone raised above the coconut and looks as though he's about to make a sacrifice. "Then I'll break it open so we can eat the fruit."

I open my mouth to reply but he's already bringing the jagged edge down to meet the furry outer layer. The two collide and a piece of shell shoots over my head. 

"Ah!" I squeal for the second time today and revert back to my safety position of covering my head with my hands. 

"Apologies." Harry says quickly but it sounds more like a grunt as he brings the rock down for the second time. More shell shoots off and this continues for five more aggressive hits until he manages to wedge through and form a rather deformed hole. 

The scent of coconut is instant and I find myself looking up and grinning at Harry who wrinkles his nose. 

"I don't actually like coconut." He confesses. "My Mum went on a coconut based diet when I was fifteen and I haven't been able to shake the smell ever since."

I frown at him for a moment before bursting out laughing.  "Are you serious? You were the one lecturing me about 'turning my nose up' at it and you can't even stand the stuff." 

He wrinkles his nose again. "For the sake of my survival, I'm happy to suffer."

"Oh, honestly." I roll my eyes as he gestures that he's going to tilt the coconut. I move one of the cups beneath it and watch as the clear liquid pours out into the see through container. White flecks float in the liquid and I chuckle as Harry grimaces. 

We manage to fill three and a half of the four cups and after securing the lids on one and a half of them, I nudge one of the remaining two over to Harry. We both stand up as he accepts it slowly and almost reluctantly but brings it up to his lips and sniffs.