Stranded [harry styles] ✓

26

As we soar over land, the immediate contrast between the crystal calmness of the ocean and the bustling, brightly lit city is almost breathtaking. Jules had always told me that Kuala Lumpur was the kind of place you needed to visit rather than get a feel of from the photos and as of right now - I believe her.

Harry's gaze is also fixed on the outside of the helicopter. He looks exhausted from his side profile and there are goosebumps covering his bare arms and chest despite the blanket he's enveloped in. I sidle up into his side, relieved when he relaxes into me. I want to tell him that Jules is down there somewhere; that whether or not she knows it yet, I'm going to see her in a matter of hours and I can't wait for him to meet her. But I know the only way of conveying this information to him is to shout...and I don't want the jumpsuit to hear us. 

It's crazy to think that if the crash had never happened, I'd probably still be in Kuala Lumpur right now anyway; somewhere down there amongst the madness. And I'd never have met Harry. He'd be working in Melbourne, unaware of the strawberry-blonde girl who'd been sat back in economy class on the same flight. We'd probably not even have seen one another disembarking the plane. 

Right now would all be so different. 

Rapid, unfamiliar chatter cuts through the propeller's whirring and I look up to find the jumpsuit barking into his radio again. The helicopter tilts and begins to veer almost inwards; steering us into the city centre rather than drifting along it's perimeters. My stomach clenches.

We're nearly there. 

There's a large white building ahead, made up of floors upon floors with never ending windows and clinical, white lights blaring out of them. The roof is flat with a black helipad covering its surface area and I realise that this must be the hospital. 

This is where we rejoin reality. 

I can feel Harry's knees bouncing excitedly beside me; his eyes not straying from our destination. He looks like he's going to throw the blanket off of his shoulders at any minute and launch himself out the side of the helicopter, unable to wait for touchdown. I'm excited for him...for me...for us. But at the same time, a part of my brain is telling me that the moment we set foot on that helipad is the moment that we exit our bubble. 

And I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to leave yet. 

The helicopter drops, almost plummeting towards the helipad and I hold my breath. 

This is not the aeroplane.

We are not crashing. 

Harry seems to sense my unease and winds his right arm around me, securing me against his side as though we're two pieces of Velcro. My upper teeth sink into my lower lip and I go to close my eyes, except there's something down there outside the hospital...something large and moving and frantic. 

It's a swarm of people. All huddled together in front of the entrance to the hospital, fighting for their spot at the front. Every now and then there's a flash of flight, like that of a camera.

My stomach churns. 

"Papparazzi." Harry yells into my ear. Even with the overbearing sound of the helicopter, I can detect the disapproval in his tone. 

I'm amazed. The jumpsuit must have only said Harry's name into his radio fifteen to twenty minutes ago and yet somehow it's already spread like wildfire. They're practically fighting one another down there just to get the first shot of Harry alive and well. They're animals. And yet a part of me wonders if maybe my name will have made its way to Jules. 

We come to hover over the helipad, just a set of double doors open up at the far end of the roof. A whole team tumble out, displaying a variety of coloured medical uniforms as well as formal attire. Two of them are armed with wheelchairs and I cringe.