Flicker 》Harry Styles x Kennedy Walsh {COMPLETED}

13: Oh Fuck

I'm shaking.

I literally am shaking, from head to toe. I'd taken Xanax on the way to the airport and the fucking shaking isn't stopping. We're already more than halfway there, and by "we," I mean Mom and I.

Why didn't I drive by myself, you ask? First of all, I am a hundred percent positive I will not be able to concentrate with Harry Styles in the passenger seat. Second, following the idea of the first point, I am never in the mood for jail time for crashing into a tree and/or a building. Third and last, as I've previously said, the shaking isn't stopping.

So, folks, those are the reasons why Harry and I are being chaperoned by my mother.

My phone pings and I swipe at the notification.

Plane's landing. See you in a bit. x H

Well, there goes my pulse. "I should've downed the whole box of Xanax."

Mom laughs. "Come on, calm down, we're almost there."

"Exactly," I groan.

Do you know what else is running seventy kilometers an hour? My mind. What if he decides last minute that he didn't want to come to see me? What if he's already regretting flying here and just couldn't tell me? Why the hell is he on a plane, in Maryland, in the middle of tour?

I am pulled away from my thoughts when my phone pings again. This time, it's Claudia.

Calm down. It's gonna be fine. Breathe.

Like that'll help, I think to myself, but appreciate the gesture anyway. I take a few deep breaths and try my hardest to get my nerves to calm down. Yeah, it's gonna be fine. We'll be alright.

We finally pull into the airport. I unlock my phone.

We're here. Where should we pick you up? :)

He replies almost immediately.

The arrival area should be fine.

I blink at my phone, struggling to type without missing a few letters.

Oh. No secret back doors then? Dang it.

That would be a very popstar thing for me to do.

An involuntary smile creeps onto my face. We head into the arrival area and wait along with a few more people. I thank the heavens when I notice all the people around us are old people, no one my age and certainly no one younger. This should be okay.

The overhead voice announces the arrival of a flight which I'm sure is Harry's, and I'm instantly overcome with anticipation. Every second passing is like a hand of a clock ticking so loudly inside my head. People start to emerge from the arrival area carrying their own baggage and carry-on.

I feel my stomach drop when I catch sight of him.

He's wearing a brown pullover with a white shirt peeking out from under it. Skinny jeans plus his signature Chelsea boots. A matching brown leather carry-on is slung on his right shoulder.

"Kennedy, breathe," Mom's voice washes over me, and only then do I realize I've momentarily forgotten how to work my lungs. Wow, talk about breathtaking.

He'd just waved goodbye to someone, an old lady, and I couldn't quite tell if he's looking for us because of the sunglasses he's wearing. Two inconspicuous grown men were close to him, probably airport security.