The Fault in our Nostalgia // Harry Styles

Four•

Harry•
Today's been a long day honestly, I've been stressed so much by school, and I've been staying at the local pub most of the time.
I took of my contacts and put on my glasses, brushed my hair with my fingers and headed down stairs to see my dad.
Since my mom's death, dad became distant, and vulnerable. He'd be coming back from work, huffing and buffing then going to sleep, we rarely share the good nights and "good nights". We used to have those days where we sat and watched football and drank Diet Coke, and days where we used to bake some cookies and have some conversations on many subjects, talk about aliens and football players and books and work. My dad's a journalist, his job inspires me so much, it's like so vintage and unique.
But now, by the time dad came home, ate dinner and went to sleep, I decided to have a walk and go to the park.
I arrived the park , it was dark and empty, but something caught my eye, a brunette with a black bag counting the stars. She couldn't be a serial killer right? I held my guts and sat fifty inches away from her.
I copied her actions and counted the stars, then my eyes darted on her, and  felt myself sitting near her unconsciously.

Mariah•
I looked at him, or actually studied him, I studied his crystal clear green eyes, his little freckles on the edge of his nose, his cheeks, his lips, but I've only focused on those damn eyes.
I could tell He is  magnificent, and there's no doubt in saying he fascinated me, but it was in a way where I'd rather stare at him than any brightly lit, night sky.
It was in a way where I'd rather read him than any self-provoking book. He is someone who I would spend my life figuring out if it meant I got to be in his presence at all.
And that would be the best part, being there for him; even if I was struggling.
Probably he has struggled in life so much, like me.
Probably we were two missing puzzle pieces in the chaotic puzzle game, it is madness.
I took out my cigarettes and gave one to him.
First, he eyed it carefully, flipping it and holding it carefully, he seemed reluctant but then he was like "who the fuck cares?", so he took the lighter as he began to smoke, the way he inhaled made me want to kiss him. Wait what?
I meant, the way he inhaled made me want to get addicted to cigarettes, I've never seen anyone, smoking like him, in a way he could get his feelings out.
I smiled as he smiled back, the sun has fallen, and the park got empty, it was just me, him and the moon.
Although i love looking at the moon every night, tonight I resisted, and why? Cause I've got a piece of art sitting next to me, and when I say art, I don't mean the absolute best masterpieces, no not those.
I mean I know that art is not supposed to be nice right? It is supposed to make you feel something, and I think I've felt something. 
Even though he just sat next to me, even though I didn't get to know his name, I enjoyed his company.
"I guess you admire counting stars, don't you?" His voice cupped my ears warmly.
"Yeah, its like a tradition to me." I laughed half- heartedly.
He laughed along, his eyes pierced into mine.
"I didn't get to know your name."
Which one you want to know, I thought.
"Mariah." I sighed.
"Styles, Harry Styles."