Random Harry Styles Short Stories || Completed!

Best Friends

Ella was his best friend. Some people would say Niall was Harry's best mate, and while he considered that to be true for the most part, if anyone was to ask, he'd proudly declare that Ella took the title. They'd only known each other since the first year of uni, but in that time they'd grown very close, and if Harry was honest, there were things they shared that he didn't share with the lads.

Not things like details about girls he fancied or the head he'd gotten that one time from Marla Lemons. He could only talk shit like that with his mates, and he reckoned Ella wouldn't wanna hear about it anyway. But they could have deep conversations well into the night about nothing and anything, musing about life and death and what it all really meant. He'd known Niall for nearly a decade, and while he could chat him up about complete random shit, he wasn't the type to talk about things like that.

Sometimes it was nice to have a friend to just chat about nothing with.

One thing he'd never been able to tell Ella, however, was that he secretly wanted to be more than friends. He'd never made a move, and other than holding her hand when she was scared at the haunted house or wiping her tears when she'd cried about an exam she'd failed, he'd barely touched her. Something had happened that first year at university that had put them in the friend zone, and he eventually accepted that was just how it was meant to be. At least for a while. But this last year had been different. Something had shifted, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Harry stood in the kitchen, his hand around a red cup filled with some sort of concoction that smelled entirely too sweet. He didn't really want to get shit faced tonight, that wasn't his plan. Not that he really had a plan. But it was Ella's birthday, and if he had anything to say about it, it would be her best one yet. The last three had been fun as far as he could recall, except for the time some girl Niall had been dating...Lena? Lorna?...had gotten so wasted she threw up on the rug. Ella, being the kind soul she was, insisted on cleaning up, holding her nose with a clothespin until Harry finally pulled her away, yelling at Niall that he should clean up his own girlfriend's puke. Later that night, sat with Ella up on the roof, Harry had thought about confessing his feelings to her. But it just hadn't felt like the right time, and given that he was still pretty drunk himself, he was afraid Ella would simply blame it on that and not take him seriously.

So the friendship continued.

"Hey mate, you gonna drink that or are you trying to read your future in it?"

Lifting his head, Harry saw his friend Liam enter the kitchen, walking up to the counter beside him and pouring himself a cup of the same pink liquid.

"What's in this?" Harry asked.

"Hell if I know," Liam shrugged before taking a large gulp. "Mmm, tastes like bubblegum."

"Blech!" Harry sounded after taking his own sip, making a face of disgust. "Nah man, where's the good stuff?"

"Right here, mate!" exclaimed Niall as he strutted into the kitchen with a case of beer in each hand. Two more lads followed him in, carrying the same. Leave it to Niall.

"Not what I meant," muttered Harry, walking around them to the living room.

The front door opened then and another handful of people entered, some he knew, some he didn't. He recognized Vickie, Ella's roommate among them and when she spotted Harry she smiled.

"Birthday girl's on her way," she announced, setting a bag on the counter. Harry noticed the clinking sound it made which made his ears perk up.

"Harry!" Liam called as Vickie pulled out the bottles of both brown and clear liquor. "I think this is what you were looking for!"