𝒾𝒻 𝒾 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒻𝓁𝓎 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒 (𝓁.𝓈.)

thirty-four

Skiing is nerve wracking. Skiing for the first time in ten or so years is cause for some serious rethinking of any and all life decisions. Skiing thousands of miles from home and with someone I still consider somewhat of a stranger despite our friendship over the past few weeks of stunting is absolutely terrifying.

"You're overthinking it," Taylor says. "If you paid attention to the lesson this morning you'll be fine, trust me."

I slowly breathe out and run a hand nervously through my hair. I recently cut off an inch or two just to keep it healthy, but it's still as curly and wild as ever, and descends just past my shoulders. Louis loves it, so it stays.

"I'm not going to survive this," I mutter, looking out over the snow from the ski lift. It's freezing outside, and I'm feeling it, even through about a million layers of wool and a puffy coat on top of it all. All of this padding wasn't enough to protect me as I relearnt how to ski this morning, as I fell on my arse more often than not. 

I didn't want to fly all the way to LA and then drive to Big Bear, California, to ski, but I didn't really have a choice. Taylor was going on this trip anyway, originally with Selena, one of her best friends. Selena had to back out last minute and my team saw the opportunity, not hesitating to take it. At least the mountain where we're skiing is mostly devoid of people, even if the main reason for that is so paps can get better photos of us.

"You'd better survive this, or I think your boyfriend is going to kill me," Taylor jokes, but I can't even smile, knowing all too well she just might be right.

***

At the top of the hill, I look downward, and just take a minute to appreciate the view. The snow is reflecting sunlight off its surface, and there are rainbows visible among the white. The trees in clumps along the mountain would be gorgeous if they weren't guaranteed trips to the hospital. I wonder if maybe we should've had an emergency helicopter on standby.

"Just go for it," Taylor says behind me. I shake my head quickly.

"Hell no. You should go first."

Her mouth pinches in the corners, her lips as bright and red as ever even in a situation like this. I wonder how, in the crisp, damp air, her makeup hasn't started running yet.

"Harry, live a little. You've got this."

I take a deep breath, turning back to the beautiful scenery, knowing I'll be having a very fast, up-close look very soon. One more breath, and then I'm pushing off.

From the beginning, I know I'm doing something wrong. My feet are too wide, my knees too stiff, but after a bit I think I've gotten the hang of it. I finally find the courage to look up from my skis and see a few trees go by, fast as lightning. 

Somewhere behind me I can hear Taylor cheering me on, but her voice gets lost the further I go and the faster the wind rushes in my ears. I look up once more and that's when I see it.

They say that right before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. If that were true, I'd have flashed back to listening to The Beatles and Shania Twain with my mum as a kid, sometimes hitting the high notes and sometimes butchering them, but always having fun. I'd have remembered my first kiss, the most awkward thing I think has ever happened to me, with a random girl in primary school. We were ten. I'd have remembered my first boyfriend, Jack, who I made out with behind the lockers of the footie team (he was on the team. I most definitely was not).

I'd have remembered my mum driving me to Manchester to audition for the British X-Factor. I'd have remembered my audition itself, which I still to this day am extremely embarrassed of, the way my hands and my voice shook. I'd have thought about how happy I was to make it to the top 5, and how sad I was to be then eliminated, but then how amazing it was to be signed to a label who let me wear what I wanted and make the music I wanted to make.

If my life had flashed before my eyes, my mind would've been full of Louis, his face and his scruff and his smile and his eyes and his cheekbones and the dimples in his back, right at the bottom of his spine, and all the other things that I love about him, that make him him.

Instead of all of this, I have one thought going through my mind as my skis take me closer to the tree right in the middle of the path: Please don't let Louis kill Taylor.

I feel pain everywhere, but mainly in my head. And then I black out.

A/N: Cliffhangerrrrr do you think Harry will be okay? (Jk ofc he's going to be okay, duh. I'm not that evil.)

Bets on whether Louis will kill Taylor?

All the love, hope you're all doing okay :D.

xoxo, K