anobrain // narry au

i

So I cover my Calvin's with everyday clothing. Nothing too fancy and nothing that looks lounged. Then my front door is ringing out and Harry's standing there with bright smiles and lit eyes directly on me. And I can feel the heat surfacing on the centre of my cheeks. That is until I look down to observe Harry's outfit. In a leaden coloured hoodie and black jeans ripped at the knee, one knee, and those habitual, poor conditioned brown boots. Harry looks casual as my eyes observe my outfit:

A plaid patterned shirt covering my black tee. Jeans that's function is to stay tight all the same comfortable and black vans.

With tinted cheeks I make the swiftest reason to excuse myself to change into a sweater that gives a more lounged look. A hood similar to my best friend, but Harry disregards my 'I'm cold excuse,' as he donates his hoodie to me and I mentally swear to myself because it isn't good to lie. Lies or fibs or whatever you refer to it has only worsened the situation like this. Not even cold nor freezing, more of a warm and brisk feeling erupts through me. I choose to be optimistic – hoping Harry isn't the actual cold one here.

Nonetheless I follow him to his vehicle. Harry holds the left passenger door for me as I thank him with common curtesy. He straps himself in afterwards and the car ride begins in a soothing silence before Harry cuts the radio on. An unfamiliar tune plays throughout our atmosphere. Soft and sound like The 1975's constant aura and demeanour. Unfortunately their music isn't playing.

My stomach is still in these inexperienced knots. I breathe deeply to myself as I muster up a small smile to reveal at Harry. His eyes don't particularly meet mine because they're on the road before us. "So," I start calmly. "Where are we going?"

Harry zips his lips with his free hand as I groan responsively. Our atmosphere grows quiet again and Piece the Veil's The Sky Under the Sea plays faintly during the car ride. I hear Harry, vaguely, hum along to the rhythm and lyrics Vic Fuentes, the lead of the rock band sings.

A smile brushes my face as I can't help but to internally coo at the determination of Harry to sing the words correctly, in the right tune. With accurate timing and he's always been like that —

Adamant. A music perfectionist. It's almost like Harry can be wrong in the matter of seconds with any realistic subject, but with music, he must be — has to be right. Ever since we were younger and were introduced to melodic tunes and many, many artists with a passion for different genres. Like The Beatles and The Doors and Nirvana — bands we still listen to to this very day.

Especially the grunge band Nirvana. We've always grew up with their music between our older sisters Gemma and Cara. It's like a gene. Something heredity — passing down your generations favourite band to the next then the next and the next and their next.

The car abruptly stops. The familiar destination is Harry's house. Through the setting sky, I can paint out the neutral colours of the home subconsciously. And with confusion I look to Harry who's wearing a sly smile because of my frown. It transitions to cunning when he grabs ahold of my hand and leads me up the path towards the Cox/Styles' residence. A residence that I routinely refer to as my home away from home. Just like Louis's and Zayn's (even if we're not on the greatest terms right now).

The lounge doesn't sense familiarity to me once my eyes land upon it. Furniture is moved around and lights are dimmed and it looks different. There's makeshift pillows and knitted quilts on the floor near the active fireplace underneath the television. The screen has the opening credits of The Wizard of Oz on. I gasp at the scenery because it's beautiful. With little firefly candles in mason jars in various corners around the lounge.

"Wow," I unintentionally muse looking towards Harry. He's standing beside me with his hand wrapped tightly between my palm. Disregarding the calluses on his skin, his hands are rather soft. And the imperfections of his hand in mine makes Harry Harry. And Harry smiles in my peripheral, leading the both of us towards the pallets of colourful blankets in front of the illuminated television screen
upon the floor.

"I know," he vaguely utters. Making sure I'm correctly sitting down before sitting beside me. He scoots closer while pulling me close to the heat radiating off of his body.

Then my heart begins to pummel. Sometimes I loathe the natural feeling that frequently happens when I'm in Harry's presence, but psychology occasionally says: due to our natural instinct of protection, we tend to focus on the negatives of people more than their positives. Which is truth, for me, being that I've been pushing Harry away from what could happen between us because of the fear of the future.

Even still, what Harry has planned for our first date means most. He's taken time from his busy schedule to leave me in awe. It's working because I'm wowed—amazed at the creativity of such a makeshift, homey, lounge-y first date. One where you don't actually need to impress your significant other, and that's an intriguing feeling.

The knots in my belly begin to disperse when The Wizard of Oz begins to play.

We chat quietly between the time. Not taking interim minutes out of our lives in order to get to know each other. That's another pro; dating someone who happens to know you most, my best friend. Realization finally sinks in: I'm on a date, dating, my best friend of many many years.

There's small snacks we munch on that Harry's placed around the makeshift bed like buttered popcorn and homemade, roasted marshmallows. And after our simultaneous singing of the classical films tunes, the movie goes off when Dorothy realises there is no place like home. A dream is the biggest and greatest reality — Harry nearly drags me into the nearby kitchen with pasta cooling on the stovetop.

And melted, spicy looking red pasta sauce. Vegetables — spinaches and broccoli and zucchini – intermixed in the meal has my stomach growling a tune. A song that causes Harry and I to laugh, wholeheartedly. His head knocks back and his mouth, with those pink pink lips, open broadly and my chest collapses at the beautiful sound. More beautiful than the time Louis and I went to see The 1975 live. When Matt Healy sang his entire soul out when the song Robbers reached its abrupt climax kind of beautiful. From Harry.

We eat with little conversation, although it doesn't seem to bother me as I nearly gobble down the plate of food like I haven't ate in weeks. Harry doesn't seem to mind. Instead, with amused eyes, he stares at me. Coughing vaguely when he says, "I want to go steady. Y'know, between us. If that's okay with you."

My heart pummels against my ribcage more fatally than the times earlier this evening. Though, nonchalantly, I say, "I wouldn't mind," as truthful and trustful as I can through the deep breaths I internally attempt to intake through my nose.

I find myself automatically flushing when Harry asks me on another date. "Even if we aren't finished with our first? Aren't you an eager one," I tease him. Harry laughs loudly, fondly noticing my banter. He still nods in agreement with my words.

"I'm also eager to make you my boyfriend, if you also wouldn't mind that suggestion too," Harry musters. There's a twinkle in his eye when he speaks these unexpected words. I stay silent but find, allow, myself to be pulled onto Harry's lap with blazing pink cheeks.

Knowingly, I know, they're a prominent colour.

Harry instinctively wraps his arms around my waist as I his neck from the weird angle that we're in. And I couldn't have anticipated a different outcome of this date, even if it isn't finished. Our, mine and Harry's, friendship seems to always take an abruptly unforeseen turn —

Friends to best friends to steady — engaging in our first date right in the Cox/Styles' home within the kitchen. Cuddling next to two bowls of pasta -- as if that isn't so much odd from the people that we habitually are --. Then later on that night we're popping in The Outsiders while relaxing next to the fireplace. Relaxing into each other for the remainder of the night.

I couldn't have wanted this unexpected night any other way.

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I'm sorry I've taken long to update, it just felt like I've took a while.