DUNKIRK | HARRY STYLES

[Scene Twenty-Three]

It had been six months but he looked the same: strikingly handsome, especially wearing that sharp, tailored suit. After so long without him, it was like a punch in the gut as I realised how extraordinarily beautiful he was. I watched as his mouth fell softly open, eyes roaming over me as if he didn't quite believe I was real; I understood the feeling.

Slowly, he began to walk towards me, like he almost couldn't help himself. Then, he sped up until he was almost jogging. I watched him draw closer, too shocked to move myself.

The press screamed and shouted as he passed them, cameras capturing our reunion with blinding flashes. Journalists were beginning to take notice that something was happening, practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

Christopher Nolan grabbed Harry's sleeve to try and say something but Harry shook him off with a few words.

Dad was saying words but all I could hear was a loud buzz in my ears, like a bee hive flying around my head. The whole world seemed to have dimmed while Harry remained in full colour, a bright gem among dull rocks. All I could see was him.

I left Dad's side and began to walk towards Harry, desperate to hear him, touch him, just be near him again. Like a moth to a flame, I let myself be drawn to him.

We were ten metres, five metres, two, one. The cameras flashed as we finally reached each other.

I couldn't believe he was standing right in front of me, a tangible thing that I could actually touch. I wanted to touch him as well, to run my fingers across his cheek, down to his lips which I so desperately wanted to kiss. Not only did I want to taste him, but I wanted to smell him too. That familiar scent of mint, fresh linen and safety which I embarrassingly couldn't help but breathe in deeply.

I was rambling inside my mind but when I opened my mouth nothing came out except a breathy word- "Harry."

"India, I-" He stuttered for a second and I realised he was as nervous as me. We looked at each other, trying to see past barriers and know whether the other person felt the same. But neither of us could mind read. It all came down to a simple faith that our love had survived our six month separation.

Everything was building up inside of me, this indescribable feeling that felt like it was rising inside my chest, pushing at the seams of my skin to try and escape. I had missed him so very much but I hadn't allowed myself to mourn our fleeting love. Instead, I had tried to plaster up the wound with work and distraction. Now, all that feeling I had repressed was flooding through my every vein.

"I've missed you." I blurted out, unable to hold it in any longer. "A lot. I-I've missed you a lot."

"So have I." He said, his eyes lighting up with what looked like hope. "These last few months, they've been..."

"Torture." I finished for him and relief engulfed my body as he smiled at me.

"Are you still working on your album?" I asked tentatively. Nothing could be worse than if his answer was yes, I'm still working in Jamaica and still unable to pursue a relationship with you. Another day of this awful limbo would simply kill me.

"No." He said immediately. "Are you still working on that movie with Chris?"

"No," I replied quickly, adding eagerly, "I haven't got anything lined up yet."

"Me neither." He said, a full-blown grin on his face now. "I'm promoting my album in a few months, but until then I'm completely-"

"Free," I said softly. Something passed between us, an understanding of sorts.

"I'm going to be honest here, India." He said, running a hand through his hair nervously. My heart skipped a beat in my chest. What if he told me that it was over for him? That the distance had killed every last dredge of feeling for me that he had once had?

"I'm still completely in love with you," He said. "I understand if you don't feel the same, I mean it's been six months and you've probably found someone else, I can't blame you but-"

"I'm still in love with you too, Harry," I said gently, noticing how we'd edged closer together, the pull of each other so magnetic we couldn't resist.

"Really?" He said, eyes lit up with happiness. My heart nearly burst with love for him.

"I love you Harry. So much." I said, "These past six months without you have been torture. Every moment I felt like giving in and calling you up."

"I love you too," He said, his hand reaching out to entwine with mine.

"I want to kiss you but I can't," I said, casting a glance over the screaming press, their cameras clicking.

"I've been waiting six months to kiss you," He said, hand moving up to cradle the back of my head, now so close I could feel his breath whispering over my skin. "Fuck the bloody press."

Then his lips were on mine and I became blissfully unaware of the flashes popping and the screaming fans. All I could see, smell, feel, taste was Harry. And it was amazing, especially after six months of withdrawal from his lips.

Both of his strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me so tightly to his chest my feet were lifted off the red carpet. I gripped the lapels of his suit while our lips moulded together, finally, finally feeling at home.

//

wowee this story blew up a little !! i got so many notifs over the past week so thank you to everyone who's new here !

love you guys so much, ur comments literally motivate me to continue writing ❤️

anyway this is probably going to be the last chapter before the epilogue. I can't believe this story is nearly over !!

vote, comment etc !

- eden xx