Broken Strings || Niall Horan [AU]

07 | pubs and pints

❝Life's too short to even care at all.❞ ▬ Anonymous.

CHAPTER SEVEN

At first, I'm startled by how different Harry looks to when I last saw him, which was a little over two years ago. Put simply, he has grown up. Gone is the puppy fat and the boyish style in which his unruly hair used to flop across his forehead; his curls are now pushed back beneath a grey beanie, his forehead visible and dotted with a small splattering of teenage zits, crumpled as his thick, expressive eyebrows knot together. He has shot up in height, too, and stands looking down at both Niall and I. 

But it's not just that. The Harry Styles I knew was dorky and cheerful, rarely seen without a dimpled smile on his youthful face. This one retains a darker, almost sinister aura; I feel myself moving closer to Niall, subconsciously feeling safer pressed to his side. Harry stares at us, and I wonder if he's waiting for me to say something; wave a friendly hi, perhaps? 

Here's the thing: you can be wrong about people. Horribly, horribly wrong. First impressions are never one-hundred percent accurate. And this is what I realise when Harry's face softens and, all of a sudden, he breaks out into a huge, heart-warming grin. Relief floods over me but before I can return his smile, he's pulling me and Niall into a hug. 

The three of us don't exactly fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, but I can feel Niall's arm wrapped around me, holding me tight, and suddenly I don't care about awkwardness. The hug lasts mere seconds. When we pull apart, Harry shakes his head in disbelief. "I never thought I'd see you two again," he says, and why am I so surprised to find that he sounds the same as he always did? You could close your eyes and pretend that nothing has changed, and I guess that's what has startled me. "Sorry about giving you evils. You probably thought I was going to beat you up or something. I've had a rough night, is all. Took me a few moments to register what was actually happening." Same old Harry, I think: always able to read peoples' minds, always apologetic, and always ready to provide an explanation for his wrong-doings.  

"It's just, I haven't seen you two in ages," Harry continues. "Anna, it's been years. And you..." He turns to Niall and trails off.

"Niall," the Irish boy reminds him -- or is he simply informing him? I can't be sure. Niall gives a small shrug, meeting Harry's gaze. "It's been a while." 

"Right. Like, three months." They stare at each other, taking each other in. Then, Harry frowns and shuffles his feet, timidly slipping his hands into his large jacket pockets. "I guess you're kind of mad at me for leaving you like that."

Niall pauses, considering what to say. "I was a bit surprised, at first. But you saved me. You gave me the strength I needed."

"Well, you're looking better than ever," Harry says. He glances at me, then back to Niall. Takes a step closer. "I mean, you're standing here on a warm summer evening with a gorgeous girl by your side. It doesn't get much better than that, does it?"

A vivid blush creeps upon my cheeks and I roll my eyes to hide it. Niall laughs and lazily throws an arm across my shoulders. "It sure doesn't," he grins. 

"So, how are things? Where are you living? Did you follow my ever-so-wise advice and get a job?" Harry asks, raising his eyebrows. 

Before Niall can answer, I turn to him and, looking up at him in confusion, hiss: "What's going on?"

Harry doesn't seem to acknowledge my perplexion. Niall is just about to respond when the curly-haired boy interjects, a little excitedly, "How about we go get a drink somewhere? We have a lot to catch up on."