GOLDEN (harry styles)

un soir d'été

"Haha! You can't get me now!" A distant sounding taunt comes from behind the door.

Harry lets out a growl, and hits his fist against the door in frustration. Sarah, Charlotte, Micth and I are dying of laughter, feeling a good pain in our stomach muscles from how hard we're cackling.

"I love that I'm always the laughing stock of this group." Harry mumbles, pulling his blanket over his body and snuggling into the couch for warmth.

"We're humbling you." Sarah tries to get out through heavy breathing.

"I have to say, I thought you would be nice in boardgames Nixie." He shakes his head.

"Yeah. You were wrong."

"Evidently."

Everyone continues laughing, whilst Harry sulks for another hour, cuddled up under his tartan blanket as if it gives him the warmth he wants in this 20 degree heat. Sarah slowly starts to pack up the cards, and Charlotte takes out another bag of sweets from her secret, hidden collection.

"So, what're we doing tomorrow?" Adam asks, texting someone.

"What's tomorrow?" I look around, trying to read facial expressions.

"Oh, we have a break before the next show. I was going to invite you over to mine for a barbecue, but after tonight I don't know if I want to anymore." Harry raises his nose in the air at us.

"I'm down for a barbeque." Mitch shrugs.

"I didn't say you could still come!"

"Too bad, too sad."

"So, can we still come?" I say, carefully watching the exchange shared between the two men.

"Yes, you can Nixie, because you're my favourite person on this bus." Harry nods.

Everyone snaps their heads to face him, the smug grin on his lips only growing, their offended expressions fuelling him further. I feel myself start to smile.

"What? She just beat you so bad at uno!"

"You were on the verge of tears!" Adam exclaims, finishing Sarah's remark.

"Okay, first of all, I was not on the verge of tears-"

"Yes you were." Sarah scoffs.

Harry gives her a quick glare, before raising his hand in front of him and continuing.

"Secondly, as I said, Nixie is my new favourite person because she doesn't constantly tease me. But I will extend the offer to the rest of you, because you are my friends. Happy?"

"Yes. Thank you." Charlotte smirks, and they all return to what they were doing.

I get up from the floor, and go to sit cross legged on the couch next to Harry, who has just started writing in his journal. I haven't journaled for a few days.

Sorry journal.

"What are you writing about?" I ask softly, not wanting to over step.

Harry gives me a weak smile, but doesn't close the small A5 book like I thought he would. There are a series of doodles along the back cover, standing out against the simple light grey shade. The more I examine them, I come to a realisation that they are his tattoos.

The biggest and most beautiful one in my opinion, is a mermaid, mirroring the ink on his forearm.

"Stuff. Life." He finally answers, continuing to draw a sparrow on the bottom corner.

"Why a mermaid?"

"What do you mean?" His features contort in puzzled frown, closing the book gently and giving me his full attention.

"You have so many tattoos. Why did you get a mermaid?" I finish.

Harry sighs with a small smile, and runs his hand over the ink in question. The tattoo is dark, not faded like some others, and the detail is so intricate. Miniature scales, lines representing the perfect imperfections of the mermaid's tail, and her long wavy hair make it a beautiful design.

"I'm not completely sure actually. I was told once by my mum that mermaids symbolise awareness and insight of the world around you, and I thought that was really wonderful. I mean, don't you want to know what's going on around you so that you can live every moment?" He grins.

I consider his words for a second, taking in the poem he just created without meaning to. My head tilts to the side.

"I do want to live every moment. But, in a way, don't you want to not know what's going on around you? That way, you don't live knowing everything that's going to happen every second of every day. I personally would like a few surprises." I trace my eyes over his, watching as the emotion shifts calmly into wonder.

"I get that. It makes sense. You can't plan life." He smiles.

I hum in response, and pull my phone out my pocket to show him something. I scroll through the concerning amount of pictures taken in the last few months until I stop at December of last year.

The photo staring back at me is a Christmas scene. My parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins all gathered around a very long table, filled with a variety of foods. Everyone wears thrilled smiles on their tanned faces. We look so happy.

"This moment right here. This is when I realised that in order to live life to the fullest, you can't have a detailed plan." I murmur, my fingers wanting to shut the phone and throw it out the window.

Harry's head hovers above my shoulder, not daring to connect with my skin. I can feel his eyes studying the photograph.

Instead of giving a verbal response, he shuffles away and picks up his phone. Repeating my actions, he finds his photograph, and then holds it out for me to see.

A photo of him and his family shines a white light from the screen. All of them rugged up in scarves, beanies and fuzzy coats, wearing an extra layer of a smile on their crimson cheeks. It's a polar opposite to my photo in some ways, but completely identical in many others.

"This was my moment. I had the best people by my side, and I realised that no matter what happens in life, it's the people you meet, not necessarily the places you go or your achievements." Harry pauses his hushed tone, before deciding to continue.

"It was the first time I really understood what they mean when they say that home is a person, not a house."

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