My Dark Diary 》h.s.

Chapter Three

The thing I probably hated the most out of the whole place, was the ceiling. I've always been the type of person who'd stare at the ceiling for time and time when life gets tough and tears fill your tired eyes. And I've too often noticed it's actually peeling off the corners of the room, and it is somewhat disgusting.

There I lay, spread out across my bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling. 

"I'm bored", I declared out loud. I did this often, talking aloud when nobody listened, though I did unpleasantly realise later on, people do sneak behind doors and walls, and they infact keep track of your conversations. However, I was rather oblivious about this back then so I continued my conversation."I think I'll walk over to Harry's, that lad's nice". I admitted while stumbling on both my feet and jogging as fast as I possibly could after laying still for an hour, towards the door. And out to the corridor. And to the porch. And to the garden.

The blazing light stroke my eyes as bad as a lightning would have, but I still kept walking, though I could scarcely distinguish anything one foot away from me. I hadn't walked much when a familiar smell crept into my nose.

"Hey there"

"Hey Harry, I was looking for you".

"You were?". I glanced over to his dimpled smirk, as I realised I shouldn't have phrased that way. "And are you still?" He playfully asked, and even though it took me two seconds to get the joke, I still chuckled.

"No Harry, I think I've found you now", I responded, nodding.

"Fine then. What did you want from me?".

"I was... uhm... I... Look, let's be honest here, I was bored as hell and I thought you could un-bore me". He nodded, as he came noticeably closer.

"NO HARRY NOT THAT WAY OKAY I THINK YOU GOT ME WRONG", I yelled blithely, but it soon enough cracked into a giggle we both shared.

"Do you want to come to my room? I've got therapy in forty five minutes but we might have time for a puzzle", he suggested, his dimpled grin still present. I choked a giggle.

"Awesome, let's go".

And so we headed toward his room.  I remember that walk fairly clearly, I remember the path we covered, through bushes and trees, which made us laugh until our stomachs hurt as we sprinted through them; I also remember us splashing water into each other's faces, and my head stinging because of my meds, and his constant need of liquids  because of his, and the way we both ended up lying in his bed covered in tree resin and sweat. Needless to say, we had a shower afterwards. Not together,  of course, but we did share a cozy moment when our only pieces of clothing were our towels, and my soaked hair dripped on the floor, creating sound other than our sychronised breathing. He slid his damp hands down my side, pulling me closer.
"Katie", his rather low voice echoed in the room. I swiftly turned to find his eyes stealing every little secret from mine. It felt intimidating, but sweet.
"Harry", I replied. The dripping stopped. All I could hear was nothing. Utter silence. I counted to myself. One. Two. Three.
"I think...", he began doubtfully.
"You think...?", I encouraged. Harry suddenly leaped up from bed and shook his hair.
"Sorry babe, I'm late to therapy, see you". And with that, he left.
I stood up, got dressed, tidied the room up a little, and left too.
The thing I remember the clearest, is that feeling of disorientation when I stepped out. Of thinking, where do I go now?

Soon enough, my mobile phone beeped showing Niall's number on the screen.
Niall Horan:
Hey there, where are the towels?

I giggled, and texted:
On my way!