Patterns of Blues

Chapter 8

Harry woke up to something soft tickling at his nose, and after a few seconds of trying to blow it away, he gave up and opened his eyes. His irritation softened when he saw his little brother's sleeping face inches from his, blond hair a bushy mess. The bugger must have climbed into bed at some point in the night. He smiled and carefully crawled out from under his covers and to their shared dresser, opening his drawer and taking out the last set of unworn clothes he had left, reminding himself to start the laundry later. He glanced over to Liam's bed and was unsurprised to see he had already woken up and was probably making breakfast. He changed quickly and combed his hair with his fingers as he stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Sure enough, he walked in on Liam screwing the cap back onto the milk carton, three bowls of cereal sat out on the counter.

"Morning, Harry," he greeted, glancing over with a smile.

"Hey," He responded, voice all croaky from its lack of use. He cleared his throat to try to get it adjusted before tilting his head toward the direction of Greg's room, "Is he up?"

"Not yet. I think he'll be out until after we've left for school," Liam replied hushedly as though afraid of waking up a sleeping child. Harry rolled his eyes,

"Should I wake Ni?"

"Uh-" Liam seemed thrown off by the question, spinning around to read the time of the oven's clock, "yeah? Yeah, probably. He doesn't like soggy cereal." Harry smiled and returned up the stairs and back into their room, where Niall was still fast asleep on Harry's bed,

"Hey, Ni. Breakfast's ready," he whispered, gently turning him over. He scrunched his nose up, not opening his eyes, and grumbled something inaudible back at him. Harry shook his head. It was the same routine every morning, "C'mon, don't be lazy. You know what Greg would do." As soon as he uttered those words, Niall's peaceful expression collapsed, and he opened his blue eyes worriedly,

"What time is it? Harry, is he mad?" He jumped out of bed and nibbled at his nails anxiously, but Harry grabbed his wrist lightly so he wouldn't freak out,

"He's not up yet." Niall yanked his wrist out from Harry's grasp, eyes fearful,

"Why'd you do that?"

"We both know that didn't hurt," Harry scoffed, narrowing his eyes at the idea of it. Niall pushed his hair out of his eyes and sighed,

"M'sorry. I just got scared for a minute."

"It's fine," Harry whispered, taking care not to touch him again. Niall changed into a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants without another word and exited the room all jittery, leaving Harry to stare after him in concern. He breathed out, slightly annoyed, before following the blond-haired boy, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Niall replied with a quiver edging his words. Harry rolled his eyes again, growing tired of Niall's newfound ability to lie,

"Okay, but what's on your mind?"

"Nothin'. I'm just hungry," he turned and glanced over, eyes dark with irritability. Harry held his hands up in surrender,

"Alright, chill. I was just asking a question."

"Leave me alone," the youngest grumbled as he turned in the kitchen. Harry shot Liam a warning look and the eldest frowned momentarily,

"Hey, Ducky. How'd you sleep?" Instead of responding with words, Niall glared in a way that made him look eerily similar to Greg. Harry watched in concern as he spooned a bite of his cereal, not even offering a thank-you. Liam's gaze slowly turned to Harry, "Okay then. Your lunch is in your lunchbox, with peanut butter and strawberry jam, just like you like it. Ni, yours is in the fridge for later, alright?" When Niall looked up, his eyes were glistening with unshed tears that were threatening to spill over,