23 Ghosting

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(A/n: Please don't be afraid to comment your thoughts about the story.)

give me something to remember you by.

Harry felt Niall's warmth beside him on the large couch. He felt the slouch of the cushion from how often Niall slept on it instead of sleeping on his bed. Something about not liking how small the bedroom is and feeling trapped. He felt the draft from the top window that was always open because he wasn't tall enough to close it and was too prideful to ask any of his taller friends (like Harry) to close it for him.

Harry had his hands pressed together to keep his fingers warm and a pillow on his lap to keep his thighs warm. Niall's arm was on the back of the couch where Harry's neck was, fingers pulling at the loose threads of the sway couch he never liked anyway. Harry didn't like half of the stuff Niall had in his apartment, but he liked how familiar and comforting it was.

He couldn't say the same about the silence, though. The growing silence made the moment thick, but he wouldn't have taken that.

"I hurt Joey," Harry finally mumbled, fingers itching to reach for one of the cigarettes he knew Niall kept next to the tv remote. "It might happen again so I'm just going to tell her to not come over my flat anymore at night."

Niall shifted uncomfortably and it took Harry a moment to realize that he rushed everything at once without a proper explanation.

"It wasn't like- I didn't do it consciously. I was sleeping and I had a nightmare and she was right there. Literally under my fingers and-"

"I didn't think you hit her," is what Niall interrupted him with.

"I know," Harry lied. "I was clarifying. Anyway, just in case it happens again, she's going to have to sleep at her place and if I ever go over there, I'll take the couch."

"Why are you acting like it's a big deal?"

His eye twitched a little. "Ni, she was bleeding. There must've been so much of it, too."

"Is she mad?"

"No."

"Are you?"

"Niall-"

"Well, are you?"

"I want a drink. I know you hide your liquor in the last cabinet in the kitchen."

Niall's weight lifted beside him and Harry was left alone in the living room for just a moment before following. He wordlessly and effortlessly glided across the floor wearing a pair of socks before pulling to a stop when his hip hit the marble island. "Red wine, beer, or vodka?"

"What kind of beer?"

"Does it matter?"

Harry considered and then shrugged after a moment's time. "Nah. I'll take the beer."

+++++

They were sitting on Niall's fire escape breathing in the city air. It was dark outside, Niall said, maybe ten at night. Harry's hair was pulled into a bun behind his head and he'd gone the whole time talking to Niall about trivial things.

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