Stupid With Love

I Thought We Were Over

Harry P.O.V
(Two weeks later, back in London)

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked, turning to Niall. “We can wait, it’s not a big deal.”

“If I wait any longer I know I won’t do it. So we’re doing this now,” he replied, turning away from me and continued to place his clothes into one of his many suitcases.

“I just meant that it’s a big step. Are you sure you’re ready for it?” I asked wanting to be sure he wasn’t doing this because of me.

“Harry, I know,” he snapped, dropping the shirt he was holding.

He got to his feet and walked over to me. Placing his hands on my cheeks, his eyes were soft as they stared into mine.

“Harry, what’s wrong? It’s like you’re trying to talk me out of this of something,” I started to speak, but he placed a finger to my lips, silencing me. “I want to do this. You’re the only one I feel like I can trust. I’m not just doing this for you; I’m doing this for me. I need this, okay?” I stayed quiet and nodded. He placed a quick kiss on my lips, before continuing to pack his things.

I could only stare at him. How his muscles moved under the skin of his bare back as he struggled to fit everything into his bags. His light brown chinos sitting just low enough that I could see the band of his briefs. The rare London sun shone through the open window of Niall’s apartment, hitting his back, creating shadows that moved with such grace over the white canvas. How did I get so lucky? What did I do to deserve a boy like this? These questions I ask myself every day, knowing that I will never receive an answer. He turned, feeling my lust filled eyes on him.

“What are you looking at, Harry?” he asked, a knowing smirk on his face. He was doing this on purpose. Why else would he be kneeling half naked across the room from me, if not to tease me?

“Ah, nothing,” I said, dipping my head, attempting to hide the redness that was spreading across my checks.
“Okay,” he replied, going back to packing. He stood up and walked into the kitchen. His chinos sagging at the back, in a way that only Niall could pull off. I waited for him to come back, but after a few minutes he was still gone. I sprung to my feet and walked into the kitchen, trying hard not to think of what happened the last time. The last time I walked cautiously to the kitchen, only to find Niall half dead.

“Niall?” I said the strain obvious in my voice.

“Yes, Harry?” he replied, immediately. I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

He was standing with a glass of water raised to his lips. His back was pushed up against the hard marble of the countertop. His chest rose as he swallowed the cold liquid, licking his bottom lip slowly, to remove all of the water. He stared at me.

“What is it?”

I walked over to him, grabbing the glass out of his hand and setting it aside on the bench. I wrapped my arms around his bare waist and pulled him to me.

“I’m happy, Niall. I think happier than I have ever been. I’m just so glad we’re doing this. I’m so glad we are moving in together,” I said.

He pulled back slightly and looked at me. “I’m glad you’re happy, Harry.” I couldn’t help but hear the double meaning in that sentence. Niall was better, but not completely, something is still missing inside him. Something that I know I can’t give to him. And as much as I try to fight it, I know that Liam is the only person who can give it to him. But there is something that only I can give to, Niall. Something that Liam ruined his chances of ever doing again.