this // narry au

12. the 1967

A/N: im dONE harry can go around lookin like bruce jenner with his ponytail and l'oreal hair and sunglasses and short shorts and vogue model legs as long as he's happy i won't say anythiNG

12 - The 1967

It's been a week and Niall is still in my apartment, hiding from the rest of the world.

I don't know what I really expected-- the police to figure out and send both of us to jail? Whatever I expected didn't happen anyways.

"Harry could you make me an omelette?" Niall asks from the couch, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"No," I mumble, "We don't have any eggs, Niall."

"Go get eggs and make me an omelette..." Niall groans.

"You get eggs and then I'll think about it."

"I'm most wanted, incase you've forgotten."

"I know." I mumble, "But you went to the store twice, so I figure you can go in, buy some eggs, and not get noticed."

Niall sighs, running a hand through his lilac hair. "Will you come with me?"

"No thanks."

"Please?"

I sigh, "Alright,"

"We need to take my car, though."

"You have a car?"

"Yeah," He grins proudly, "It's exactly identical to Sam and Dean's; A 1967 Chevy Impala."

I raise my eyebrow, "I don't freakin' believe you."

"I'll show you it."

-

Two minutes later me and Niall are walking in the crowded streets with our heads down, trying not to get noticed by anyone.

Niall gets a couple stares, probably because of his hair, but nobody says anything.

"Where are we going?" I whisper as I trail Niall into an alley.

"Everybody in the UK wants to find me, I didn't just leave my car lying around." Niall huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

We take another turn and I slowly gasp, staring at his car.

It was exactly the car he promised.

It was a hearty black 1967 Chevy Impala.

"How'd you even get this? They're like, 40 thousand dollars!" I exclaim, running up to his car to admire it. "Oh my God it's so beautiful! Oh my God!"

"I stole it," Niall shrugs nonchalantly, "Like, duh. I don't have 40 thousand pounds just laying around, Harry Styles."

"You stole it?" I raise an eyebrow.

"But I did give him money," Niall assures me, "The guy I stole it from, I left 10K on his doorstep and a little fruit basket."

"You weren't joking about the whole Robin Hood thing." mumble as I open the car door.

"I told you I'm Robin Hood." He replies, sliding into a seat. "I steal money and then I give it back. I steal stuff, then I make up for it. I stab a couple guys, but then I save a couple guys too."

"Then you aren't really that bad..." I continue. "Not bad enough to be wanted in all of UK, anyways."

"Remember when that government jet plane went missing and there was a search for a month to find it?"

I nod.

"I'm the one that stole that." Niall admits cheekily, pulling out of the small place he had parked in, "I read about two chapters of How To Fly A Plane: For Dummies and then I took it."

"How To Fly A Plane: For Dummies? Do those books even work?"

"I knew enough to fly it off the base and not crash into a single skyscraper so, yes."

"Do you return it?"

"No way!" He continues to grin from ear to ear, "That was the coolest thing I've ever taken! It's now beside my families old cabin in Ireland, though. I couldn't just fly the shit around."

"I want to see it." I huff.

"You'd have to come to Ireland with me?" Niall raises an eyebrow.

"So?"

"You're willing to come to Ireland with me --the criminal-- to see a stolen jet? Aren't you at least phased by me?"

I shake my head. "Just slightly. Only when you look me in the eyes."

"Slightly? Everybody else is terrified of me..."

"I've been through stuff." I murmur, "I've seen things worser then you as a person, Niall."

"Like what?" Niall asks, a frown edging across his face like he was confused at the fact something could be worser then him. (That's sad.)

I don't reply, I just lean back into my seat and wait for Niall to realize I'm not going to answer.

Eventually, Niall does; saying a quiet, "We'll talk about this later." and starting the car.

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"Harry?" Niall whispers, sticking his head into my bedroom.

"Mhm."

"You haven't talked to me since my car," Niall furrows his eyebrows, sitting on my bed.

I almost open my mouth to tell him to go away, before deciding to stay quiet.

"Harry," Niall whines, poking at my cheeks. "You were smiling and now you're frowning."

I huff.

"I like your smile better then your sad face." Niall continues softly.

He's so quick to quote movies.

"When I said," I pause to sigh at my own voice. It was getting hoarse and it made me feel like shit. "When I said I've seen things I haven't physically seen anything."

"Oh," Niall murmurs.

"I saw things mentally." I cross my arms, "I had these demons, all these fucking demons, and they took over. Everything."

"What did they-- What were they like?"

"I don't mean literal demons, Niall." I breath out a small laugh. "It's a metaphor. Doctors make depressed people use it. Demons are negative thoughts."

"Oh." Niall says again.

"That's all you're getting out of me for today, actually." I murmur, looking up at him. "I don't want to talk about it anymore. Talking gets you nowhere in life."

Niall stares at me for a few seconds and exhales in relief.

"God, you're words are actually making everything around you seem depressing. Including me."

I let out a small laugh, "I have that effect on things."

"Now could we eat an omelette?" Niall asks.

"You and your freakin' omelette." I roll out of bed. "Okay, we'll make it, if it means that much to you."

• • •

A/N: in all honestly i don't even know what an omelette looks like