Catfish (Narry)

Chapter Twenty

“I just . . . don’t think m’ready to be married. Like, I’m twenty years old, you know?”

That wasn’t an excusable answer, Niall knows that, but he had to say something else. Harry nods weakly and steps back. He lets out a shuddery breath through his lips and presses them in a thin line.

“Yeah, it was stupid of me to do any of this. M’sorry. Lets just go, forget this ever happened.”

Niall’s heart takes another dreadful blow, pounding agonizingly in his chest with a terrible ache. “You had this planned?”

It wasn’t meant to come out as a trembling whisper, but it had. Harry’s cheeks traced with a red tint and he kept his eyes trained on the ground. His shoulders gave a feeble shrug, teeth gnawing into his now-raw bottom lip.

“Harry,” Niall sighs as his hands curl into fists, “why didn’t you tell me?”

Harry’s eyes dart up and stare directly into Niall’s, their usual soft green now dark and angry.

“Why the hell does it matter if I told you or not? Would you have said yes if I did? Marry me out of pity? Well, fuck you, Niall,” Harry spits out through clenched teeth.

Niall is taken aback at the sudden burst of aggression, but really, he shouldn’t be.

“Harry, you know that’s not what I meant—”

“Then what did you mean? Huh? You think this is some joke, because its not.”

“I know this isn’t a joke. Do you even hear yourself, right now?”

Harry walks forward, their bodies pressed together and faces only centimeters apart now. They both breathe heavily in livid breaths, eyes never leaving each other.

“Yes, I do hear myself, you insensitive fuck!”

“Oh, I’m the insensitive fuck?”

“Yes, you are! Your boyfriend fucking proposes to you, and you say you can’t marry him because “you’re not ready”. You don’t care how he feels, you don’t care that he wants to be with you forever, you don’t fucking care!”

Niall wasn’t able to respond, or move away quick enough for that matter, when Harry’s fist flies forward and clips his jaw in one quick motion. Pain spreads throughout his face in a burning, dull throb. He groans with furrowed eyebrows, lifting his fingertips up to his mouth. They pull away, blood painting them in dark red streaks.

He looks at Harry to see him clenching and unclenching his hand, rubbing his tender knuckles. There’s a hint of guilt glinting in his eyes once he sees the blood coating Niall’s fingers and dripping from his lip.

Niall wipes the rest away with the back of his hand and spits at the ground. He cringes at the metallic bitterness, but ignores it, instead gently rubs his bruising jaw as he keeps his attention on Harry. The rage that outwardly embodied Harry temporally vanished—which was good for Niall and any other body part that was tempted to be hit by Harry.

He reaches out unexpectedly and touches Niall’s jawbone. He winces, a stinging pain following after the light touch. Harry quickly mumbles an apology and jerks his hand back immediately.

An awkward silence then overtakes. Their eyes met, both indignant and irresolute. Niall can’t take it anymore, it’s too overwhelming, and so he cups Harry’s face and kisses him gently. His lips were warm and inviting to Harry’s cold ones as they eagerly moved against each other. Niall ignores the twinge of pain in his lip, but focuses on the comforting warmth that formed in his chest.