Narry: One Shots

Barbara's

by: pintsandguitars

Summary:

Harry Styles is a simple guy, or at least he likes to think so. He lives a simple life by following a simple logic that helps him keep things simple. The problem is, most people don't get (or like) his logic.

But then he meets a boy named Niall Horan and things end up being not so...simple anymore.

That's the thing about love, isn't it? It's never really simple.

°•°•°

Harry Styles doesn't know why the sky is blue. He doesn't know how airplanes fly or what the capital of Bhutan is. In fact, Harry Styles doesn't know a lot of things. It's not that he's stupid, oh no, not at all! It's just that he's not very...attentive.

One thing Harry does know though--and he knows this one for a fact--is that human beings are very beautiful creatures. All of them, every single one. And this one little truth, really the only thing he's sure of, happens to be the one thing that seems to get him in trouble the most.

He's fickle, he knows that. He's fickle and impulsive and easily distracted. And it’s not that he doesn’t want a relationship per say, it’s that he doesn’t do very well in them. Mostly because relationships often require monogamy and commitment, both of which he regularly fails at. And it's not that he doesn't try. But then there is a Jack that looks like Matt Bomer and a Mia who dances like Shakira and suddenly Harry's hand is on his hip and his mouth on her lips.

It's like this: people are like art. And like art, you can't sit there and admire just one piece forever. Well, that's Harry's logic anyway.

An ex of Harry's named Nick once told him that he was an “inconsiderate ass-hat who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants even if he had a vagina" after he'd found out that Harry had cheated on him with five other people. But he really couldn't blame Harry because it'd never been decided that they weren't allowed to fuck other people.

Harry was a tad dispirited about that one because Nick was sweet and funny and often paid for his meals. He was also a popular DJ so when they went out, they were always VIP. Harry sighed, thinking about the lavish, plush seats behind the roped off areas where the drinks tasted better and the crowd was more attractive. He’d miss that the most.

Harry worked in a coffee shop. A charming, quaint one right in centre of town called Barbara's and it attracted a lot of interesting people. It was like Harry's own personal art museum but better because he was allowed to touch the art on display. Actually, he was allowed to do a lot more than touch.

He kept hooking up with people, on and off. He had great sex with a lot of good looking people, some of whom he’s not even allowed to name for legal reasons. He had a fun and Harry likes fun.

After Nick, the longest ‘relationship’ he had was with Zayn. Zayn is a writer-cum-singer-cum-painter. In fact, Harry doesn't think there is a single kind of artist that Zayn isn't. He used to come into the coffee shop every Wednesday. Sometimes he'd be carrying a sketchbook, sometimes a leather bound journal, sometimes a camera and sometimes just his headphones. One day he'd asked Harry to model for him.

"I want to do a figure drawing of you," he'd said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Harry licked his lips, his heart beating slightly faster than normal, and just nodded. It was only when he'd arrived at Zayn's apartment-cum-studio that he found out that "figure drawing" meant nude sketches.