His question totally took me by surprise, leaving me completely worthless. My breathing stopped but at the same time I feel my heart race in my chest. The nervousness came back to my body, my mind obliging me to say something.

"I... It w-as my..." I keep my eyes down, not wanting to meet his gaze. "My... My tur-n to... Ask."

"You are stuttering." He points out, leaning closer to me, his words still in a whisper. "We are not playing by the rules anymore, Frances."

"Uh- I..." I shyly move my eyes up, playing with the hem of my sweater, his sweater that I'm wearing. "I... I..." Even when I try no words come out of my mouth, his proximity is making me ten times more accelerated.

"You are stuttering." He repeats, his lips in one sided smirk. "I don't like when you stutter."

I swallow hard, his hand moving to my chin moving it up making me look at him. His touch is burning my skin, my stomach is going crazy with butterflies by his proximity, this is so sudden. I don't know what to do.

"Is just a question, y'know?" He asks deliciously slow, I can feel his breath of fresh mint from here. When did he eat a mint? I don't know but the scent is so inviting. "Just yes or no."

His hand is still on my chin, the skin of his finger is rough - maybe caused by playing the guitar - is trailing a path along my jawline. I swallow hard, again, feeling his eyes travel from my eyes to my mouth continuously. I do the same dance, my eyes can't stop looking at his slightly parted plump lips.

What was the question again? Have I ever kissed a stranger?

Without stopping myself I respond. "No." It comes in almost a breath.

Never in all my life I have kissed someone just hours of meeting them. That's why I'm feeling ten time more nervous. 

His lips form a deeper smirk, he bites his bottom lip leaning a bit closer, almost closing the entire gap between our bodies. I'm paralyzed, my heart is now in my throat.

"Would you like to?" He asks, his eyes never moving from my lips.

Our faces are just tiny inches apart, my uncontrolled breathing coming out in short gasps trying to get some oxygen in my lungs. Moments ago we were having a deep talk about our interests but out of a sudden we are in front of each other, eating us with just our gaze. I can feel my pulse beating in my veins, my shy hands resting on his chest gently grasping the fabric of his shirt.

"H-Harry..." I speak weakly, his touch is too overwhelming.

"Yes or no, Frances?" His index finger is now holding my chin in place, his thumb moving up to rose the skin of my lips. The way his voice calls for my name makes me swoon.

His pupils are dilated, the green of his eyes are in just a thin line. I blink a few times, realizing that this in fact is real, this is actually happening. He moves my bottom lip down with his thumb, it pops back up to it usual state. I decide to answer, his touch is making this so hard for me to resist. I would have never thought we were going to be face to face. Should I give in? I'm making this trip to make memories. But these kind of memories?

"Would you guys like a snack?" The air hostess asks out of nowhere making us both jolt in our seats, our heads smacking against each other, I almost let a loud scream out.

"Fuck. Me!" He jumps, moving away from me almost instantly.

"Oh my God." I say under my breath, moving my hand to my chest working on my breathing and holding my forehead.

That was... Too close. Too damn close.

"No, no thanks." He says, running a hand through his hair letting small gasps of air out of his mouth.

"Really? We have peanuts, almonds, pistachio, chips, jelly beans, chocolates?" She looks at the both of us showing us the big variety of options.

"No, thank you." I say with my voice short of breath.

"Okay." She gives us a smile, moving her tray away and taking a step forward. "I'll be around if you guys need anything."

I let a small nervous laugh out, looking to the window. I can't believe I almost said I wanted to kiss him. Thank God the hostess interrupted us, it would have been so inappropriate to kiss him, even when I was dying to. He looked at me like he really want it to happen, he didn't even hesitated to ask. But he is a stranger, it feels wrong. Is it wrong?

I wanted it to happen but I'm not like this, am I?

"You didn't answer." He says from his seat, just his voice makes my chest raise up and down rapidly.

"Uh..." I clear my throat, swallowing my nervousness once and for all. "Should I?"

I move my eyes to look back at him, the lights in the cabin are still dimmed but somehow I can see more of him, his expression is not that deep but I can still see the hungry expression on his eyes, lust. It makes my stomach tense, I can't control it.

"Of course." He whispers, I don't know when did my body turn to face his again, but here I am in front of him, the only thing separating us is the armrest working as a barrier.

"What about a drink?" The air hostess returns, making us both jump on our spots for the second time.

"Jesus Christ." He quietly yells, trying to control his voice. "We're good!"

"Are you sure? We have different juices, sodas and cocktails." She smiles politely but right now, all I want to do is push her away.

Neither of us respond, she takes our silence and glares as her cue to leave us. Second time in a row. Impressive.

"She totally killed the vibe." He says after a moment, letting a chuckle out.

"Yeah." I say, even though I'm still dying inside.

Back when I first saw him sitting next to me, I was convinced that I was not attracted to him at all. Not in that way at least. I thought the girls that swoon for him were out of their minds. How can they root for a bad-boy look and obnoxious attitude? I didn't understand. But I was wrong.

My mind is racing with thoughts and just because of him. Every bit of him invites you to want him. He has showed me many sides of him. The rude asshole that only deserves to be ignored, his cute caring side that loves his family above all things, his deep side that talks about art and makes deep questions, his sexy side that could light your whole body on fire with just one look of his lustful green eyes. He is more than his bad boy demeanor making it almost impossible to not fall into his game.

I must be going insane. I need to calm down.

Even when I try to erase the thoughts from my mind, I can't. I haven't been more anxious to kiss someone in ages. Not even with Ben when I first developed a crush on him. To be honest, just the slight touch of Harry's thumb to my lip made me feel more than the most hardcore make out session with Ben. He wasn't that good of a kisser.

I get lost staring at him while he looks away, he looks annoyed looking at the distance pursing his lips, his headphones on his ears disconnecting him from the world. I can't help but wonder how must his lips feel? They look so soft and full. 

He looks so into whatever is playing inside of his head. What music does he listens to? I regret not going through his phone when he offered. I bet he listens to really cool music, great classic rock bands or even grunge.

Wait a minute... Why am I even wondering about him? I shouldn't care about it or anything that has to do with him. 

He is a stranger, just someone I met hours ago. I shouldn't have let him come that close to me and almost kiss me. This is not me. Am I? Is a part of me I have never come across before.

As a way to calm myself from my thoughts, I take my notepad out along with my pencils, moving my earbuds in and pressing shuffle, letting my mind lose itself in the paper while I draw. The pencil flows on its own creating little different doodles, it really helps me to soothe my thoughts.

Now that I think of it, he didn't even bothered to ask me if I was okay with it, he just throw himself at me. Well, I'm probably exaggerating, I didn't stop him either.

Why did I let him cage me on his trap? Is he always like this with all the girls he meets?

He is in fact famous for being a womanizer, maybe I'm just another prey on his list. I wouldn't be surprised, I barely know him. I should keep my distance from now on. I don't mind speaking to him or making a joke here and there, but that kind of intimacy should not be in the picture, it was definitely inappropriate. We just made acquaintance, maybe we should just leave it that way.

"Wow, that's pretty cool." He says, I didn't hear him thanks to the music playing in my earbuds.

I take one out giving him a smile. "What? Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"I said that that's amazing." He repeats himself, pointing out to my notepad.

Is now that I really look at my drawing. I made a forest, or so it seems, with a deer and a wolf in the middle. In the corner of the page there's a very detailed drawing of plump lips that you can almost feel through the page. On the other corner there's a doodle of a hand with rings on it and a tiny cross tattooed on it, I quickly move the eraser over the drawing quickly before he notices, leaving just the outline.

"Thanks." I say erasing the evidence away. I hope he didn't notice it was his hand on the paper. My subconscious must be playing games with me.

"Can I see it?" He asks moving his headphones to his neck, a muttered melody coming out from it.

"Sure." I say, glancing at it one more time checking if the evidence is completely gone.

I hand him the notepad rosing his hand in the act. I jolt my hand away nervously, he chuckles at my reaction. 

He stays silent looking at the drawing, I look at him impatiently. Is now that I identify the music from his headphones; he is listening to Chopin, he never ceases to amaze me.

"Are you listening to classic music?" I ask making his eyes move up for a millisecond.

"Oh.." He laughs pressing stop on his phone. "Yes. I was actually raised to play the violin."

"What? No way. Really?" My mouth opens, he definitely doesn't look like the classical-music type of guy.

"Yeah." He chuckles, my notepad still on his hands. "Later on I developed a taste for the guitar so I bought myself one and... I guess you know the rest."

"Do you still play? The violin?" I ask, biting my bottom lip. 

 "Yes, I still have my old violin and practice from time to time." He gives me a smile.

"Impressive." I say, frankly. 

"Not as much as you." He gives me my notepad back, pointing at the drawing in the middle. "I really like it. I love the way you work the pencil. You are very talented."

"Uh..." I do something that comes from deep inside of me, after all it was all inspired by his effect on me . I cut the page from the book and give it to him. "You can have it."

"Really?" He smiles tenderly looking down at the paper. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, take it. Happy belated birthday." I say letting out a small chuckle.

"Wow, thank you." He finally takes it, looking at it one last time before folding it.

He suddenly stands up getting something from the compartment above us, getting something out of his bag. Is a small black book that looks like a journal. He places my drawing inside of it and closes it, moving his bag up the compartment. Once again, his shirt moves a bit up showing me the tattoos on his pelvis. I dart my eyes away instantly.

Why do I find it so irresistible? Why do I find him so attractive? 

I don't like feeling this way towards a stranger. Is not good. 

"Do you have any other talents, Frances?" He asks once he is back on his seat. 

"Like what?" I ask confused.

"I don't know, I don't know you." He chuckles, resting his elbow on the armrest turning to look at me. "Like cooking or dancing." 

"Oh, no. Neither of those." I laugh moving my hands in a no-no expression. "I'm a terrible dancer and a worse cook." 

"What? You can't cook or dance?" He opens his mouth in a big 'O'. "What are your attributes as a woman then? You are going to be a terrible wife." 

"First of all, that was very sexist." I open my mouth as well, feeling offended. "Second of all, how dare you? I have other attributes." 

"Oh, yeah? Such as?" He raises an eyebrow, suddenly being in a playful attitude. 

"Like..." I run through the options in my mind, I have never thought about this really. "Kids. I'm really good with kids, they love me."

"How do you plan on feeding your kids then?" He tries to hide his laugh, that makes me hold my laughter as well. 

"The dad can cook." I say rolling my eyes at him. 

"Well, that's true." He moves his shoulders up. "I can cook." 

"Of course you can." I move my hands up in defeat. He literally can't be any more perfect. 

"What's that suppose to mean?" He tilts his head to a side, obvious humor on his face. 

"Nothing." I give up, resting my back on the seat. "You are going to be a wonderful husband someday. You should feel proud." 

"Thanks but no thanks." He moves his eyes front, his legs spread front. "I don't plan on getting married ever." 

"I bet there's a story behind this." I ask him while I glance at him, his eyes look down, a slight frown consumes his brows. 

"There is." He simply says. "But I don't want to talk about it." 

"That's okay." I say, even though the sad look on his eyes makes me more curious than I already was. 

He returns to being quiet but he keeps his headphones on his neck. After some minutes of silence I focus on something else, grabbing my copy of Gatsby and opening it in the last page I've read. Reading was a hopeless case because every time I try to read a line, my thoughts were somewhere else making me re-read paragraphs over and over.

I keep pretending to read for a while, my mind being consumed by thoughts once again. 

I do like to converse with Harry, he is very open and funny. The conversation just seems to go with ease with him, which is good. With my old friends I was constantly stuck in the middle of a conversation because we were so different that I didn't know what to add. They always end up talking about the same things and that bored me. 

But with Harry, he always says something different, it goes naturally. He feels less like a stranger with each minute and I don't know how to feel about it. Maybe is something good. 

Talking to him distracted me for a bit but even if I try to keep my mind off our encounter minutes ago I can't, its hopeless. I still can feel the touch of his thumb on my mouth, his rough finger against the soft skin of my lip. It doesn't go away, it doesn't let me think straight. He doesn't seem affected by it but here I am being haunted. 

After a few more minutes of silence and feeling the tension consuming me, I decide to ask. I need to stop this thoughts.

"Are we really going to pretend that it didn't happen?" I turn to him, speaking way too fast. 

"Huh?" He wakes up from his trance, turning to look at me. 

"We almost kissed, Harry." I say more calm now, placing the book down. 

"Oh, that." He moves his eyebrows up, a slight smirk appearing on his lips. 

"You don't have anything to say about it?" My voice comes out a little lower, the cabin seems too quiet out of a sudden. 

"Well, you didn't have the chance to answer." He shrugs, looking away momentarily. 

"Why did you want to kiss me?" I respond with a question, I'm not letting myself go there if I don't have a safe ground. I need to know before I answer him. 

"I couldn't resist it." He return his gaze to me, green dark eyes looking deep into me. "I got consumed by the moment, by the game, by you." My breathing instantly stops, I wasn't ready for this. "Then you started stuttering and that..."

I swallow hard, blushing pink under his gaze. "That what?" 

"That was extremely sexy." He lets out a flat laugh. "I know I said it was annoying but I lied. Is not annoying coming out of your lips."

"Are you... Always like this with strangers?" I move my eyes away, my cheeks now in full crimson red. I definitely wasn't ready, I shouldn't have asked. 

"Are you blushing?" He laughs, moving my face with his hand for me to look at him. 

That only makes me blush deeper, I hate this. 

"But no, I'm usually not like this with strangers." He says, moving his hand away leaving my skin burning inside. "You still haven't answered me though. Is driving me insane." 

It takes all of me to give him a straight answer, my stomach is going wild with butterflies and I'm sure my face is still in a soft color of pink. "I did want it to happen." I finally say, avoiding eye contact. 

Even when I'm not looking at him I know a smirk is consuming his face, his eyes are stuck on me, heating my skin. We are far from each other but for some reason our bodies are calling us to move closer, the skin of our arms now touching. I don't dare to look at him, I feel shy. Its a new part of me I didn't know existed. 

"Me too." Is all he says, not making a move or saying a word, just remaining close to me. 

Whatever this is I'm feeling, I like it. I have never felt it before. I don't know how to explain it. I feel close to a person I just met and it feels good. I feel shy and warm inside, is definitely a first for me. Maybe is the fact that he is not just a simple person, or the fact that he doesn't treat me like a stranger, that or the fact that we have connected in such a short time, but I like it.  

Like if he wasn't just a stranger, I rest my head on his shoulder closing my eyes. 

And if I wasn't just a stranger, he places his hand on my knee almost instantly, like if it was a normal thing between the two of us. 

-

A/N: Don't worry, they are not going to fall in love in this story because is impossible to fall in love in only eight hours but I promise the flame of love will rise (I'm planning on writing a sequel... :D) 

Any ideas for the ship name? Comment below! xx