I keep forgetting to mention that this story does contain a lot of mental illness or morbid humour about suicide and im putting a trigger warning here bc being mentally ill myself, i always write really dark stuff abt it and it can be harmful to others so yh idk.
My body began trembling as I waited longingly for Clyde to appear from the parlour. Harley and I were stood still, a great distance between us as I made various glances towards her to grasp her attention. She kept her eyes staring at the floor, not giving me the slightest bit of acknowledgement.
As I wallowed in my own pity and self destruction, A breeze rushed past my body and trickled down my spine as my soft gaze caught Clyde bursting through the exit doors, a leather jacket slumped over his broad shoulders as he weakly held a cigarette between his lips.
"Alright, we ready to go?" He asked with a false, sarcastic cheer, completely oblivious to the toxic atmosphere that physically drained me.
I only nodded in response because I figured that making any social involvement in this world would do nothing but contribute to my heartbreak. I didn't want to exist, I wanted the floor to split into two and violently drag me down into the deep pits of hell.
"You look deep in thought." Clyde mentioned as he brushed past me. "What's on your mind?"
"Suicide." I spoke with a false smile, my eyes widening as Clyde stared with an awkward laugh. Of course I wouldn't kill myself, although the thought does seem appealing as of this moment. I attempt suicide every time I'm on acid, so sometimes speaking of the matter in a not so serious tone makes me feel more human. And when Clyde laughs back, a little bit of me feels better.
"Okay, keep those thoughts to yourself from now on."
"Clyde, I need you to do me a favour." I quietly whispered, my hand lightly palming my mouth to muffle my words as Harley wasn't that far away from hearing all of this.
He raised his eyebrows in confusion but then carefully took me aside as we left Harley to stand by herself. He took the last drag of his cigarette, and with that he threw it aside before crushing it to the ground.
"We're best friends right?" I asked quietly, to which he nodded. But I wasn't done yet. "Like, our friendship is special. We have each other's backs, we've kissed a couple of times- we're cool like that, you know?"
His face has formed into a confused frown. "What about the kissing? Does Harley not like it anymore? Because she tends to join in every now and again."
I stared at him in confusion also, wondering how one could completely miss the point. "Clyde- stop, you're not getting it-"
"I'm not sure if I'm 100% heterosexual." He confessed, and as lovely as that was, there were things I needed to discuss.
"You and me both, Clyde- but let's focus on the main topic," I murmured, the gum I was chewing beginning to lose its taste. "I need you to seal the deal with Marco and take the package."
He thought I was joking at first, so he uncomfortably laughed. But the moment he knew I was serious, he exhaled in concern. "Well, where are you going to be?"
"I don't know, having coffee probably."
"You get to chill out and have a coffee while I do your dirty work?" He huffed.
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Call Boy. (Harry Styles Fan Fiction) on holdFanfiction
Harley Thomas; an anxiously wrecked Christian who thrives on judging those who sin. Harry Styles; an emotionally wrecked Atheist who thrives on sinning.