In the Name of Love (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter Nine

Harry heaves a deep sigh, plopping down in his seat, slumping forward so he can rest his forehead against the cool wood of the desk. Around him, everyone is getting ready for the class to start; some talking with their friends, some in their desks digging their notebooks out of their bags, while some are meandering around the room. The teacher's desk at the front of the room is still vacant, Coach Evans not yet in the room.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

Harry's eyebrows furrow. He debates lifting his head to find out who's speaking, because they sound pretty close to him, but he decides against it, not having the energy to do so. Surely whoever it is speaking is talking to someone else.

"Harry?"

Or maybe they were talking to him, he sighs. Harry slowly lifts his head up, his eyebrows furrowing together, only to find Liam standing beside his desk, a nervous frown twisted on his lips. "Sorry. Um. It just seems like every other seat is taken. Do you mind if I sit here?" He continues before Harry has a chance to say anything. "You know what, I can just wait and ask the teacher where-"

"It's okay," Harry interrupts Liam's rambling, smiling reassuringly as he watches Liam's cheeks darken. "No one sits there, have at it, mate."

Liam relaxes, letting out his own chuckle as he tosses his backpack down beside the chair, sitting down. Harry looks over at the teacher's desk, seeing it still to be lacking their teacher. "I forgot you had to get your schedule changed." Harry comments, laughing quietly, as he leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest, propping his feet onthe desk in front of him.

Liam laughs as well, rolling his eyes jokingly as he gets his notebook out of his bag. "You and me both, lad. Until this morning, that is, when I went to my original first class and promptly got kicked out."

Harry shakes his head in amusement, his lips turning up, but before he can respond, their teacher enters the classroom, apologizing for being late.

Everyone scampers to their desks, notebooks are pulled out and laid across desks, as the lesson begins.

-

A few days later Harry is straightening out his shirt when his phone rings. Harry taps the accept button on the screen, absentmindedly running his fingers through his curls as he holds the phone against his ear. "What's up, Ni?" He asks in lieu of greeting, scratching his jaw.

"How mad would you be if I said I wasn't coming to class today?" Niall croaks down the phone line, the muffled sound of him coughing following.

"You're sick?" Harry asks, his brows knitting together in concern. He pinches his lower lip between his index finger and his thumb, backing away from his floor length mirror to take a seat on the edge of his bed. "Would you like me to bring you some soup or anything?"

"No, that's alright." Niall answers, sniffling. "Mom made me some before she left for work this morning, and I think Zayn's gonna come over. Thank you though." He says, before tacking on, "Said she thinks it's probably just a 24 hour cold or something. Sorry I'm leaving you alone today though."

"Don't worry about that, Niall. Just get to feeling better, yeah? Call me or text me if you need anything." Harry replies, frowning as he listens to Niall cough again, before hoarsely thanking him again.

Harry sighs, stuffing his phone back in his pocket. He stands from the bed, heading back to the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day.

-

School drags on, every single class seeming to last hours on end. He dropped his books int he hallway on his rush to his next class, accidentally spilled some soup on his light grey long sleeve during lunch, got called on to answer a question that he stuttered his way through because he has gotten lost in a daydream, and to make it even worse, as the school day draws closer to an end, the clouds in the sky get darker.