Blowing Smoke (Harry Styles)

Chapter 50

With heaving sighs and huffing breaths, I sprinted, against the begging of my muscles and wheezing lungs. My chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm as my legs did the exact opposite. When my eyes landed on Melanie’s dark flesh that covered her scrawny arm, which waved to me as a form of encouragement, I broke into full sprint, not breathing whatsoever, as it would distract me far too much. Everything breezed by me as I sprinted as if my life depended on it, my speed skyrocketing my confidence levels to astronomical and yet immeasurable heights.

My body relaxed nearly completely when I ran right past Melanie, treating her standing location as a finish line. My legs stopped moving, but my heart hadn’t stopped beating so erratically. I pressed my palms to my knees, bending over, and breathed heavily, inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my lips. My muscles didn’t ache as usual, signaling that I was getting much fitter than before. The numbness of my legs and the lack of pain boosted my self-esteem incredibly. I focused on my heartbeat and tried to lower it to a normal beat as much as possible until it was a steady beat.

When I straightened my posture, Melanie was watching me intently, worry clouding her dark eyes. I nodded my head at her to assure that I was all right, despite my red face and uneven breathing.

“Do you want supper?” she asked, taking my mind off of the eighteen miles that I had just ran. “Noah is making some steak, I know you’ll love it.”

I nodded my head, knowing that speaking would take my breath away much further than it already was. I also needed to get the dryness away from my throat to be able to speak at all. 
I walked with Melanie over towards her-our home, chatting absentmindedly amongst us. She spoke about how she loved the weather in Marseille and how it was always perfect, which I found difficult to argue. We spoke about Wilson and how our worries had easily settled without us even being aware of it. With each progressing day, our anxiety had settled to less than nothing over a short period of time. We knew that Wilson either couldn’t find us, or gave up trying.

When we arrived at the house, which was literally right on the beach, we were both greeted by the wonderful scent of Noah barbequing on the balcony that overlooked the beautiful ocean.

“Smells d-delicious.” I complimented Noah.

He laughed. “Thank you, sweetie.”

I smiled to myself from his pet name for me. Melanie and I sat down in two of the three chairs around a beautiful glass table adjacent to the barbeque.

“Would you like some wine?” Melanie offered me.

“Sh-sure.”

“Red or white?”

“R-red.”

“Be right back.”

She sauntered off to fetch me a wonderful French wine in which I had been begging to try since I got here.

“How do you like your steak?” Noah asked me as he placed on my slab of red raw meat onto the sizzling barbeque.

“R-rare. Very v-very rare.”

“So I should just flip this twice more and that’s it?”

“That’s i-it.”

“That’s hardly a steak.”

“It’s the b-best w-way to eat a s-steak.”

Noah laughed and shook his head, continuing to cook the steaks and grilled vegetables.

Just then, Melanie returned with three glasses of wine and a bottle of red wine, placing them on the table gently. I took one of the glasses, claiming it as my own.