eighty three

                                    

                                          
chapter eighty three - someone to stay
Lucy Caddel
In the final minutes of the sunlight, Harry set up the tent and sleeping bags. Nearly falling asleep several times in the passenger seat as I watched him, I decided to get up and find us some food to eat.
The trunk was loaded with stuff, squashed in from the rush of Zayn and Harry. The tent and sleeping bags took up most of the space so all that was left was a cooler, a few large bags, and my backpack.
"Zayn said he packed us pasta if you wanted to get that out, we'll just have to warm it up over a fire." Harry exhaled, dusting off his hands.
I spotted the two containers of Zayn's pasta stuffed into one of the bags. Reaching for them, I felt the ice brick below that kept them cool because of the chicken and fish inside. Harry gathers firewood and starts a spark in the small pit he made. The orange engulfs the small section of dirt and the smell of dusty smoke infiltrates my nose instantly.
Harry takes the containers from me and opens them both up, dumping the pasta into a metal pan. He hovers it over the fire while I find a seat at the very edge of the tent, facing the warmth. I circle my thumb through my necklace and look at Harry who is focused on warming our dinner. His shirt is dirtied from smoke and dirt, and so are his pants but at least they aren't white.
"Harry."
"Yes?"
"What happens when we get to Greece?" I asked a question I had been meaning to ask since I found out we were going there, I just hadn't had the guts.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, where will we stay? And how long? And what if they find us? And-,"
"We will find a place to stay. We will stay for as long as we both need and they won't find us." Harry rapid-fire answers all my questions.
I lower my head to my knees and stare at him for a moment. He does too. It's a bittersweet thing that releases a ghastly amount of feelings in my stomach.
"Do you trust me?"
With my life.
"I do." I swallow deeply, holding my breath.
"Then trust me when I say you will be okay. Everything will work out."
What about you?
"Okay."
He lifts the pan from the flames and dishes the pasta back into the two containers, handing me my portion.
"Thanks." I grinned, feeling the warmth touch my skin. The first mouthful warmed my core within seconds, holding my mouth open to reduce the heat.
Harry sits down next to me, crossing his legs and cupping his hands around the container like I am. The fire lights up his face the softest orange, highlighting each one of his perfect features. I couldn't hide the fact I was completely besotted, not with just the way he looked or the way he dressed but also with what he does. His actions speak a lot about who he is as a person, and it's no surprise that he's changed me too. I guess that's what drew me to him.