addicted [h.s]

27

The next morning I wake up in a cold sweat, waking myself from a nightmare which included Jake.

It was hard to see him in my dreams, knowing that he still haunts me even when there was no way he could get to me. When I get up and ready I then head to the cafeteria, seeing Harry there immediately making me feel safe.

I sit next to him and rest my head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent. "Morning." I just barely whisper, but he still manages to hear me.

He kisses the side of my head, "good morning, you alright?"

I sit up before faintly smiling at him, "just a bad dream."

"If you want to talk to me about it you can, I'm a good listener." His pink lips spread into a small smile, and I can tell he means it.

"Not today." I tell him, watching him for some sort of reaction.

Just now I notice how much I enjoy looking at him, the way his curls frame his face and eyes a reflection of a deep green forest look back at me. The way his tinted pink lips move slowly when he speaks, and dimples carve into his cheeks when he smiles. He is beautiful, and I can't believe he wants to spend even a second with someone like me.

"Just whenever you're ready, know that I'm here." He kisses my cheek before retracting, looking conflicted as to whether or not he should've done that.

"Do you care about me?" The words leave my mouth before I can really think about them, but there's no way for me to take it back now.

He grins before nodding, "yeah, I care about you a lot actually." He looks at me, furrowing his brows, "does that surprise you?"

"I just don't feel like anyone should care about me, and it's probably because of what Jake did to me. I think that he ruined me." I confess, something that has been eating away at me for longer than I want to admit.

Harry opens his mouth to say something but we are interrupted, "ready to go to group?" Niall asks as he sits down across from us.

We both look at each other and know there's more to be said, but instead stand up from the table to get this over with.

-

Group session comes and goes per usual, Niall, Harry, and I heading outside with a football we were given permission to use by a doctor. I guess he knew there was nothing really harmful we could do with it.

"I'm David Beckham, obviously." Niall says, pointing to his blonde hair.

Harry laughs, "I'm Cristiano Ronaldo then."

"You don't look anything like him." Niall points out.

Harry scoffs, "and you definitely look like David Beckham."

Niall shrugs, "fair point."

Now they both look at me, as if I actually know the name of a soccer player. "I don't know anything about football, or care to know anyone who is involved in it."

"You're Hope Solo." Harry exclaims before putting down the soccer ball, and alternating it between his feet. His eyes are transfixed on it as he moves it onto the end of his foot before flicking it up into the air, beginning to dribble it on his thighs.

"Show off." Niall mutters under his breath.

"The most I've ever gotten to is five hundred thirty-eight, the only reason I had to stop was because mum was calling me for tea." He then drops the ball to the ground, lightly passing it to Niall.

"Wow, you're very skilled." My tone is sarcastic as I look at Harry.

He grins, "yes I am."

Just as I'm about to say something I feel something touch my foot, I look down to see the ball resting on the ground beneath me.

I look at Niall and then Harry, "I don't know what the hell to do with this."

"Use the inside of your foot, aim it towards me, then lightly pass it to me." Harry instructs, and I do as he says, the ball going right to him.

"Now that you know the basics we can play a game." Harry says.

"All I know to do is pass, how am I going to play in a game?" I ask.

"Well you're on my team, so I figured that's all you need to know how to do." He hides a smile before discussing with Niall where the goals will be, finally deciding moments later before calling me over for a 'team meeting'.

"Does this mean you're the team captain? If so I'm not sure if I'm alright with that." I say.

Harry rolls his eyes, "fine. You can be the team captain."

I smile, "the plan is that I pass the ball to you and you score it."

Harry raises his eyebrows, "and what will you be doing while I'm scoring."

I think for a moment, "celebrating?"

He laughs, "no you'll protect our goal so he doesn't score on us."

We break after that, Harry and I winning in rock, paper, scissors, and therefore getting the ball first.

Everything is smooth sailing as Harry scores a goal, at least until Niall gets the ball and shoots it right at my head.

"Are you okay?" Harry stands over me, and I can't exactly remember what happened except the fact that Niall had just shot before I fell to the ground.

Niall appears over me, "I'm really sorry, guess my shot is a bit rusty."

"You Irish bastard." I shake my head before sitting up, "I feel fine." I say, and mean it. "Maybe you guys should play without me, I'm not much use anyway."

Niall looks at Harry and he shrugs, and so they go back to the game except now there is two of them. I feel like I should feel left out but I honestly don't, football most definitely is not my cup of tea, and I'm clearly not good at it. If me getting knocked to the ground isn't proof enough, I don't know what is.

After about thirty minutes both Niall and Harry are extremely sweaty, both of them glistening from the extraneous game that they've been playing. The score is tied, and so they decide the player that scores the next goal will be the winner.

They place the ball between them and immediately begin battling it out, sharing control of the ball as they try to get it from each other. Finally Niall is able to get it after Harry nearly falls over. It doesn't take much for Niall to score, and when he does Harry falls to his knees, hands covering his face in defeat. After a few seconds he gives up the act and pats Niall on the back, congratulating him.

"You are very sweaty." Harry says to him, seeming to just now be noticing this.

Niall looks him up and down before saying, "so are you!"

-

i love narry

pun:

what day does an egg hate the most?

fry-days.

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-jo