WILD // (Harry Styles)

N I N E T E E N

"Why does he do that?" I ask, a small hint of frustration in my voice. He is so intense... it's too much some times.

"Look, I don't like him, but he cares a fuckload about you, like more than a healthy amount," Michael says as I turn around to face him.

I mean, I can understand where Harry is coming from. If I had someone in my life who I loved fiercely, and to have them suddenly not remember me... it would wear heavy on me. I have to be patient with him.

"Why don't you like him?" I ask, wondering what could have made Michael dislike someone. He looks down on the mattress, twiddling the duvet between his fingers.

"It's a long story," he shrugs, piquing my interest. I frown, and push his knee.

"Tell me!" I insist, and he seems increasingly uncomfortable. It takes a lot for Michael to be brought down. What happened? He sighs, looking up at me with a small smile. I think he realizes I won't stop till' I get the entire story, because he gets up from the bed, turning around.

"Hold on, let me go make tea."

•

•

"He just never told you that he leaked the photo until you found he email proving he did it," Michael wraps up the story. I have just been sat here for a good hour, listening to Michael tell the story of the photo that got leaked.

"Wait... He let me believe you leaked it? For how long?" I say, fourthly surprised and confused. Why would Harry do something like that?

"Long enough for us to loose touch for a bit." Michael says, and he looks down again, stirring his spoon in his tea. He seems upset, having to tell that story. I understand why.

"But why would Harry leak the photo? Like what was his intentions?" I question, genuinely baffled by how someone could do such a thing to a person that they love.

"From what I understand and what you told me, it was because Harry had this idea that N-"

"Niall!" I jump when I see him enter the apartment, with a box in his hands. I take the final sip of my tea, and walk over to him. I hug him tightly, thankfully to see another familiar face. Even though he was in California with us and I've forgotten about it, I knew him years before that. We met years ago. I feel his arms land on my lower back, embracing me.

"Nice to see you, I brought you breakfast," he says once I release him. Michael shoots up from the couch as soon as he mentions food, and grabs the box out of his hands before I have the chance to.

"Thank you," he exaggerates a smile and walks to the dining table and starts digging through the box.

"Thanks," I say, and he smiles.

"Are you feeling better?" he asks, moving an inch closer, genuine concern in his eyes. I nod, even though I'm sort of set back from the story about the leaked photo. But having Niall around always puts me in a better mood.