Catfish (Narry)

Chapter Three

*Three Weeks Later*

Harry’s POV

Dear Diary,

 

 

I absolutely hate calling this a diary. I prefer the term journal, but with the already printed text at the top of this entry saying “Dear Diary”, I can’t very well change it. The reason behind the purchase of you my Dear Diary (Get it? Dear Diary, hahaha!) Is thanks to Lou and Zayn. Wow, surprise surprise huh? I guess I have a tendency to talk a lot so they told me to buy a diary and pour out my heart onto sheets of paper. So I did.

It’s been about three weeks since I signed up to the dating website. To much of my surprise, I’ve been finding myself actually using it. It’s not all that bad really–the website has seem to grow on me. Sometimes I get the occasional creep (being the age of my grandfather) that messages me, trying to be flirty but it just comes off as weird. Changing my interest to men has helped quite a bit, and a few guys around my age have caught my eye. A blue-eyed boy with blonde hair, (bleached that color I presume), and not too bad looking, to be more precise. Pfft, who am I kidding? He’s like a God. No no, he is a God.

In his profile photo he has a goofy grin across his face, and his cerulean eyes sparkled. They had a mischievous aura about them, and the way they shined brightly, not from the sun but just from seemingly pure happiness, made my heart melt. I am practically smitten over the boy and I haven’t even had the balls to send him a wink, let along talk to him through chat.

 

 

I happened to stumble upon his profile one day on a fluke accident. Ever since that day

I’ve been attached to him, almost like an obsession. I wasn’t stalking him or printing out his photos to keep at my bedside so I can kiss it goodnight, (though I’m not saying that hasn’t crossed my mind once or twice, and oh was it tempting). I just couldn’t help but want to touch his milky white skin, run my fingers through his feathery-like locks, to know the taste of his lips and the feel of his hands running over mine. I bet his fingertips are calloused and rough from the years of his guitar playing. (I found out he played guitar for awhile now, happened to be in his description portion of his profile, and that his name is James Gallagher).

 

 

When I’m upset or completely bored the fuck out of my mind I scroll through his uploaded photos. He looked rather young for being the age of 19. Some photos he had were of his prized Taylor guitar, some of him playing a game of footie with his best mates. He even had a photo of himself with his shirt off; v-line and faint abs galore. Now on that photo I could have possibly, maybe spent a good hour staring and most certainly drooling over it. But hey, can you blame me? No, because you’re a book. Heh, good one Harry.

 

 

One of the most interesting things about him is that he’s Irish. He certainly seemed liked it, especially from all the updates from him saying he was about to have yet another pint. And he always posts about the derby, and other Irish terms I didn’t really understand but it’s ok because he’s cute. It makes up for it.

 

 

God, I sound like a girl. Anyways, I think I’m going to be productive today and actually do something. That something being staring at James’ profile and instagramming photos with ingenious captions. Sounds like a pretty swell time. I don’t really know how to end this so um yeah. Talk to you later? Hm, weird.

~

I laid down the book and pen as I stretched out, yawning. “Ah, young love. It’s a beautiful thing, especially when one writes about their undeniable attraction and infatuation with a guy over the Internet in his diary.” Louis sauntered in with a crooked smile before laughter bubbled out past his lips. “Bugger off,” I groaned. I grabbed a pillow from off of the couch and chucked it at his head. It successfully smacked against the right side of his face and before he had a chance to retaliate I bolted out the room with diary and laptop in hand. I locked my bedroom door once I was safely inside and away from Louis wrath.

I logged into the dating website and did the normal routine; checking posts, stats, ect. I finally came upon to my notifications screen, ignoring the obscene messages and replying to the nicer ones.

Michael: Hey ;)

Aiden: Sup man, how’s it goin’?

Tristan: Ya it’s shit over here, wish you were with me to make it better ;)

James: Hey mate, whats up? A friend told me about you, so I thought I’d give ya a message. By the way I think you’re pretty cute.. :)

My eyes reread over the last message at least a hundred times, making sure I wasn’t delusional and hallucinating. I closed my eyes and rubbed them, then looked back at the message.

Still there.

I guess that’s a good thing. My heart was racing, and my hands were trembling as I replied. The rest of the messages from the others were irrelevant to me at the moment. My mind was focused on more important matters.

‘No way, no way, no way. This isn’t happening,’ I thought to myself.

I stared straight at the message and started hysterically giggling like a schoolgirl.

‘Holy shit this is happening.’

My cheeks started to burn from my constant smiling. With fingers that trembled from excitement, I typed back a reply.

Edward: Hello! Thanks for the message, and I think you’re cute too .xx

James: Anytime babe. So, wanna get t know each other better?

Mmm, I’d like to do more than just get to know you.

Edward: Yeah, why not :)

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