For Your Eyes Only: HS

24. Eyes Keep Saying Things

"So, I'm guessing you'll be wanting another lime vodka?" Harry smirks at me once we've reached our booth again and I can see that his whole demeanor has changed. I look over at Niall and he looks uneasy but it's clear that he's trying to hide it. Harry's obviously a better actor than Niall is. 

Not wanting to pry too much - I mean, it's really none of my business at all - I reply, "sounds great," with a tight smile. It looks as if Harry doesn't want to talk about what just happened with Zayn so I'm thinking it's probably best to just forget it happened. In other words, lets keep the drinks flowing.

That doesn't mean I'm not still perplexed by it though, I mean, there was a look of pure hatred in Harry's eyes and I'd never seen anything like it. I thought for a few seconds that he was going to punch Zayn.

"So," I turn to Niall, who is directly across from me, sipping on a beer. His eyebrows raise in curiosity when my eye meets his. "Who was that you were talking to? You kind of left her hanging!"

"It's fine, I think I was boring her anyway, she kept yawnin', so I was actually thankful when ye came over." He smiles at me gratefully, but that's where the conversation stops. So much for a conversation starter. 

"I'm just going to go grab a drink," I tell Harry and Niall, the awkward tension becoming too much for me to handle. 

Just as I'm about to slide out of the booth, Harry says, "wait, I'll come with you. I need a refill," and with that, we're walking. The possibility of running into Zayn again crosses my mind but I get rid of the thought. 

Time to be positive, Miller. 

Harry is millimetres behind me once we've reached the bar again, and this time I order for the both of us. I can definitely tell that Harry is shaken from the previous events. 

"Thanks," he says, once I've given him his drink from the bartender. 

"Are, are you ok, Harry?" I ask hesitantly, knowing that I can't not ask. He may be fairly good at hiding his stress but he's definitely quietened down since we first got here. I also can't help but notice that our arms are touching due to the minimal distance there is between us. It's kind of distracting. 

"It's really nothing for you to worry about," he tells me with a sad smile, and I can't help but feel sorry for him. He's right though, it's obviously nothing that I need to worry about. It's not like Harry's going to spill all of his dark secrets to me after knowing me for a couple of weeks. He's got proper friends for that sort of thing. 

I hope I can end up being one of his 'proper friends'-- maybe even more than that. It's highly unlikely, but I'll just see where life takes me, and as cliche as that sounds, it's all I can do. 

"No pressure or anything, but if you ever want to talk, I'm a pretty decent listener," I reply smoothly, sipping my drink. I think it's starting to go to my head. I'm feeling a bit like I'm floating. 

Usually, when I get drunk (not that I'm planning on it tonight, but who knows. I mean, come on, you know me well enough by now. Literally anything could happen), there are a few stages in my drunkenness. 

Stage 1: Dizziness and floatiness. This will soon begin to feel like I'm out of my own body, and I stumble a lot. This is a pretty standard symptom that I'm sure a lot of people endure.

Stage 2: The major giggles. It's literally as if I cannot stop. Anything someone says will make me laugh, and I can't stop smiling. It's happened a few times where I go to the toilets and look in a mirror and I'm just smiling at myself for a few seconds. Or minutes. Or more.

Stage 3: The 'chatterbox' phase. The only way to get me to stop talking is to physically shut my mouth with great force. All the stuff that I've been thinking in my head will end up coming out of my mouth and I'll have the biggest amount of confidence. I find myself saying things to random people that I would never even consider telling my closer friends.