Ocean & Moon (N.S)

01 » piece of cake

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» HARRY STYLES »

I walk along the shore, breathing in the smell of the salty air, listening to the percussion of waves crashing to the shore. My eyes are moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. Scrunching my toes, I feel the softness of the sand, still damp from the retreating tide.

My lips curve upwards as I shift my gaze to the far off horizon, the flaring hues of the sun melting into the sky, reflected by the sea. It looked like a divine painting.

I make my way over to a rock, taking a seat on it, watching the sea. Despite the heat, I find myself frozen in place once my eyes take in the ocean. I don't really know what I'm looking at exactly. It just... it makes me feel so free.

The loud chatter and laughter from families and friends, I block them all out, focusing on the sound of the crashing waves instead. Waves of a deep royal blue creep towards me, crashing into the rock I'm sitting on before floating away, only to repeat the process in a cycle. It's rather hypnotising. I breathe in the salty air like its an elixir, to me I think it is.

I've been working here on this beach as a lifeguard for over two years, and I've lived in the urban seaside for about ten. But the ocean never ceases to amaze me. No matter how long I spend here on the beach, I don't think I can ever get over the beauty of the ocean.

I don't know what it is that makes this feel like home. Maybe it's how the ocean can somehow magically make my bad days good. Maybe it's how the waves wash away my worries. Maybe it's how the rhythm of the tides, just feels like my soul is set free. Maybe, it's because of how mysterious the ocean is. It's so far and wide, sparkling on the surface, but deep down, who really knows what's down there. It makes me feel so small, but at the same time, so free. Or maybe, it's the idea of how the ocean, can either be calm and still, or rough and rigid, but in the end, it's still so beautiful.

"Oi Harold!" A familiar voice shouts out, before I feel his arms thrown over my shoulder as he takes a seat next to me.

"There you are! Party at the beach house again tonight. Up for it?" He asks.

I roll my eyes. "It's the third time this week, Lou. I'm sick of going."

"Oh don't be such a party pooper, H. Your shift's over, ain't it?" He nudges my side. "Kendall's gonna be there and she's excited to see you." He wiggles his brows playfully, smirking suggestively.

I grunt. "Unfortunately, I don't give two shits about her snobbish arse."

"What? I thought you hooked up with her once or some shit?"

"For the last time, Louis Tomlinson, we did not hook up. She made that up." I huff in annoyance. "Now sod off, you're ruining my alone time."

"Every second, every minute, every hour is alone time to you, H. You need more friends."

"You're my friend." I point out, raising a brow.

"I wouldn't be if it wasn't for the fact you're my step brother."

"How sweet of you. Now if you don't mind, kindly piss off."

"Alright, alright, geez. Don't have to go all cranky on me." He grumbles.

"Want a spliff?" He suddenly asks, pulling out a packet of marijuana from his packet 'magically'. Why am I not surprised?

I stare at it, then glance back up to Louis, shrugging.