We're waist deep in sea water, fingers interlocked and mouth's grinning. The sun bounces off of her golden hair and illuminates her pale skin, accentuating the constellation of amber freckles arching across her cheek bones. But there's unease in the water; rippling wildly through the waves in the form of a strong gust. So strong that her pupils blow wide and her fingers slip from my hold. And although I fight back, I just know I'm never going to see her again.

I wake up, gasping.

Five days of awkwardness and tiptoeing around Harry has left me feeling incredibly isolated and alone. The extent of our socialising has been nothing more than standing side by side, waist deep in crystal water, throwing spears at anything that moves and then cooking it in silence. Conversation hasn't elaborated further than greetings or overly polite please and thank yous, the majority of which spoken through gritted teeth.

I've not been hungry though. Hunger seems almost like a thing of the past; a distant memory of a darker time. And my stomach hasn't growled at me in days.

But it's socialisation I crave now.

Harry sits opposite me in the sand, his legs crossed beneath him. There are large bags under his eyes; deep and mauve like bruises as though he hasn't slept in weeks. He keeps his head down and picks at his fish clumsily, flicking numerous amounts into his lap. This wild-haired, thin human being is nothing like Harry Styles at all.

"How are you holding up?" I try to sound casual but my words are too quick. Too close together. Harry gently raises his head and squints at me as though my face is the sun.

"How are you holding up?" He sounds too tired to be spiteful, regardless of the fact that I'm quite sure he's trying to be. It feels as though my insides have been doused in a heavily concentrated dose of disappointment and my shoulders slump. But I'm not going to pass up the opportunity to have a conversation.

"I'm tired." I reply, hoping that this might open up an opportunity for Harry to explain why he looks like he's gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson. "And I'm homesick. These past few days especially."

There's a long, awkward pause and in my frustration I jab my stick into the ground beside me. The fish slides off and flops into the sand, instantly covering one side in a sand-crumb coating. I sigh.

"Well, I guess I'm holding up the same as you then." Harry snaps but his voice is still void of any real bitterness or loathing.

"We don't have to be unkind to one another, Harry." I say tentatively and bite my lip. "We're in this together, remember?"

Harry lifts his head again and parts his lips to speak. His eyebrows are mashed together in a furious frown and I brace myself; prepared for a verbal earbashing.

Except Harry's forehead suddenly relaxes and his eyes widen into large watery orbs. His parted lips open and close repeatedly until his entire face crumples and a large sob rips out of him.

I'm on my feet before my brain even has a chance to think about doing it. My feet pound against the sand as I cross the small space separating us and my heart breaks as he raises his eyes to reveal red, tear-streaked cheeks. I reach my hands out to him and he accepts instantly, pulling me towards him. My legs give way and I fall onto my knees; half in the sand and half in his lap. I'm vaguely aware that I'm probably caked in all the fish he's dropped but I can't find it in me to care.

Harry's hurting.

Harry needs me.

His sobs are raw and loud in my ears now that I'm closer and I rip my hands from his grip to pull his head against my chest instead. We're an awkward tangle of limbs and fish and tears and sand but neither of us moves to correct it.

"You're ok, Harry." I say sternly and it hits me that I'm not actually one hundred percent sure what's got him so distraught. He shakes in the cage of my arms, tears continuing to spatter against his arms and chest.

"Please can we be ok?" He pants between sobs. "I can't do this without you. I hate this."

I bite my lip as a lump suddenly forms in my throat.

"This is all so stupid." He continues. "I said I was going to stay focused but I can't, Sarah. I just can't. Ever since that first kiss, I haven't been able to get you out of my stupid head. I don't even know you."

I feel my face slip into a frown because I'm not sure where this is going.

"And then I got really pissy with you for screwing with my head." He takes a sharp breath as if he's gasping. "And then I thought you had drowned and it completely knocked me for six. What the hell was I going to do here without you?"

"Harry, I-" I'm a little offended that he thinks I was screwing with him but he shakes his head frantically, demanding I stop talking.

"And then you were standing there in the water, staring up at the stars and you looked so sad. And I felt sad too. Sad because you were sad. And it hit me that you're not just some girl sharing the same terrible fate as me, Sarah."

My cheeks flush scarlet. I have to stop Harry before this all becomes too much again. I won't be able to handle the whiplash. He's emotional and getting carried away.

"Harry, please - don't do this again." I plead and relax my hold but his fingers suddenly curl around my forearms, locking them in place. I don't want him to tease me with the conversation that's about to come. What about staying focused?

"No, Sarah." He says, his voice full of determination. "Enough of the bullshit."

"I don't understand." My voice is barely a whisper and my lower lip wobbles with each word that escapes it. Harry shifts his body so that he's facing me and his red-rimmed eyes bore into my own. Tears are still pouring from his ducts. He's a mess.

"I don't know you, Sarah." He licks his lips, catching the droplets of water that have rested there. "But I like you, ok? And no this isn't just me feeling lonely and intense and in need of comfort. I like you."

He stares at me with his bloodshot eyes, an expectant look upon his face but I'm overwhelmed and I'm not entirely sure what to say.

"You are not a distraction, ok? We do not distract each other. We know we need to survive - we've been doing it every single day! But if we avoid one another like the plague, if we are awkward and uncomfortable then we might as well just die right now."

My jaw drops. "I think that's a little dramatic to say, Harry."

He sniffs quickly and the tears cease falling. "No, it's not. We are stronger together. We are at our best when we work together. And I don't mean in silence."

He stretches his right hand up to cup my face and I shiver at his touch.

"I'm sorry." He says in a more subdued tone. "I've been an idiot. But I need you to know that...well...I need you. I can't survive here if I ignore you. And if not ignoring you means admitting how I'm really feeling...then fine. So be it. If I've got to be here in this God-forsaken place then I can damn well be allowed to like you."

I wind my arms around Harry's neck instantly and hug him close to me. His heart is beating erratically against his rib cage, similarly to my own. I'm just aware as he is that we've been fighting a losing battle. Jules predicted it all along.

He pulls away to look at my face. "I get it though," he says, embarrassed. "If you don't feel the same way. But if you do, then...well, that's pretty cool."

A laugh bursts from my lips and I'm just as surprised at its presence as he is.

"Of course I like you." I feel like a giddy teenager saying it. I can even feel the stupid, lopsided smile spreading across my face. "Jules told me days ago in a dream but I didn't believe her."

His eyebrows mash together in confusion. "I'm going to pretend that what you just said made perfect sense and was completely normal."

"Are you sure you still like me now?" I snort and run my left hand through my hair. It's matted again.

"I mean it, Sarah, I really do. I know it's ridiculous to say, especially when I've been so bloody miserable." His face is anxious and I want nothing more than to reassure him.

So I slide my fingers into his tangled waves and press my lips against his own.

He's warm against my mouth and just as eager. It's startling because it feels so natural to be doing this with him - a guy I've known for hardly any time at all. It's easy to get lost in him; to allow the world to fall away around us.

Harry likes me.

I like Harry.

I don't know what this is; what we're doing or what we are.

But it's ok. And I am not afraid anymore.

Apologies for the delay in this update. I've been on holiday and only got back yesterday. Hope you enjoyed this part - let me know! :)