The Fall (1D)

A coincidence. A plane crash. The real story is what happens in between. This story tells of Johanna, a nineteen year old single traveler on a flight home from a wedding, and a certain person by the name of Harry Styles and what may be the last moments of their lives. How will they spend it? What will be sacrificed? Find out in this suspenseful thriller of One Direction fanfiction.

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5. Denial

And that's when I started crying. I couldn't stop, and before I knew it, people around me started getting pretty upset. That's when Harry stood me up and walked me to the back of the plane.

He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. "Johanna, we are going to be okay."

"What?"

"You aren't the only one freaking out."

"I know, but I can't hep it. I'm so scared."

He ran his hands down my arms and stopped when he got to my own hands, holding them tightly. "I'll be right here next to you this whole time. Nothing that we can't handle is going to happen." I shook my head. 

"We can't go out and fix the engines and save the whole flight," I countered.

"You're right, we can't. But I'm sure we've both been through enough to know that if we act like it's no big deal, it won't be." I wasn't sure what he meant by that, but agreed anyway.

So there we were, in the rear of the plane, each comforting the complete stranger standing in front of us.

I took a deep breath in. "You good?" Harry asked. I nodded. "Get those tears out of your lovely eyes, and get on out there," he said. I wiped my eyes while half laughing and half crying, and he grabbed my waist and guided me out.

Funny enough, while I was losing my mind in the back of the plane, everyone else was losing theirs in the front. The flight attendants, who were walking around  trying to calm people, were absolutely useless as people recognized the fear in their eyes. And yes, my tears and hyperventilating returned. I turned around, ready to sprint to the back of the plane.

But Harry was blocking me. I kept my head down and tried to get around him, with no success. Finally, I gripped his wrists and met his eyes, giving him a look, and he stepped aside. But I never let go of his wrist and I sprinted back to where we were before.

"No," he said. "In here," and motioned to the flight attendant service area where the food and drinks were prepared.

When we were comfortable, he shut the blue curtain that secluded the area so the space was filled with darkness. I liked it better that way, because I had no idea what was going on out there.

Both our backs were to the shelves that lined two of the four walls, so that we were across from each other. We sat there in an awkward silence for almost a good minute. 

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