𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝒀𝒐𝒓𝒌 {𝑯.𝑺}

Chapter Forty Six | Painful Departures

The ride to the airport was quiet. I held Harry's hand in mine as he drove my beat up Chevy through the busy streets. We didn't say anything, because there wasn't anything that we could possibly say—nothing that wouldn't make his departure more painful than it already was.

Thankfully, there weren't any paparazzi waiting for us outside. But I knew that they would be here soon if we dragged out our goodbye longer than necessary. So I was the first to open the passenger door.

But Harry stopped me immediately, shutting my door and locking it: "Not yet." He said.

"What're you doing?" I tried not to inhale his cologne too deeply. He pulled away, pushing back the driver seat for more leg room.

"Come here," He mumbled, patting his lap.

I raised an eyebrow, looking at him incredulously. He wanted me to sit in his lap in the diver's seat? It's not that I didn't want to. I just knew that it would be awkward for me, considering that I wasn't the skinniest girl in the world.

I shook my head at him, but obliged his request. It was a little tricky climbing over the armrest, but he helped me nonetheless, holding onto my waist firmly until I was positioned securely in his lap.

"What's the point in this?" I found myself asking. It was a compromising position. I was practically straddling his hips, steering wheel pressing into my back as I rested my head against his chest.

I could feel his prickly stubble as he placed his chin on top of my head, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me closer to him. "I just wanted to hold you, is all." He mumbled softly, voice in complete contrast to the busy city around us. "Without everyone having to see."

In that moment, I was grateful that I invested in tinted windows, because the paparazzi would be having a field day if they caught Harry and I like this.

Then again, if the windows weren't tinted, this wouldn't be happening. Harry was a very personal person.

I admired him for it. He had managed to separate his profession away from his private life—he was careful with every single thing that he decided to share through the media. I knew that it was because he went through a lot during the early years of his career. People could be ruthless at times. They felt the need to constantly invade celebrities lives; to nitpick at every single decision they made and assume scenarios that they had no business knowing about. From rumors, to stereotyping, to downright stalking, Harry had been through it all.

He always slipped into anonymity whenever he wasn't touring. And I couldn't blame him for it. I could barely handle the attention that I was getting from taking a bullet for him, nevertheless, the spotlight that he endured.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked.

"Just how much I'm going to miss you."

I didn't have to look at him to know that he was pleased. I would have never been able to openly admit that months ago. But things were changing with Harry. He was slowly pulling back my layers. I was becoming more comfortable with him.

"Is that so?" He pulled away, gripping my chin and tugging it towards him. I met his beautiful eyes reluctantly. I could sense his sadness.

I brushed his hair out of his eyes and continued to stare at him, which caused a remarkable smile to grace his face. Dimples appeared, adorning his face like deep craters. Instinctively, I pressed each thumb into the dents, cupping his cheeks with my palms before leaning in and kissing him.