chapter six. harryandniallday pt. two
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Nothing is more important than a promise. A promise to me is more relevant than any swear or oath. A promise is just that extreme. But what makes a promise even more extreme, is when someone follows through with their uttered words.
HOME IS AS BORING as I knew it would be walking towards it from the park half hour ago. Home gets even more uninteresting when Cara and I collide near the threshold as I attempt to enter our home while she's attempting to escape it. Only to do a couple to forever hours of shopping with an extremely close friend, so she says. All the same, with mild hesitance, I remind her to be careful as she exits through the front door.
With Cara, it's hard to be calm. Calm when she's out around Manchester with no tight security or no disguise. She's this large supermodel making a come-up in society—she's very well known everywhere. Well known to an extent that she shouldn't leave our home without having one bodyguard on her arm because she's just that popular. I try not to allow my pessimistic thoughts get my entirety.
Which means lounging around in the lounge with heated popcorn on the table and a half full pop nearly demolished by a party of one. Disappointment still clear in the air and active within my system. Displeasure and wretch on every inch of my skin. Just how Harry looked a little over forty-five minutes ago.
Yet he continued his way to Liam's. Probably grinning from ear to ear predicting his arrival has an effect he has on Liam. And why do I feel such resentment? This constant disappointment when things don't go as planned? Like the Friday night movie nights that went before they came.
The years I should've cherished because if I had known when I was younger my future in adulthood would be undetermined, I would've decided on something earlier. Analyzed it all just so I wouldn't have to deal with these constant thoughts.
And to obtain them all, I pop in a classical film, The Outsiders. Altering and rerouting my train of thought for an hour or two.
It works fortunately. My stress level descends throughout the movie. Although my emotions don't when Johnny Cade dies on Ponyboy Curtis and their friend Dallas Winston. Just as Dallas begins to lose his mind I'm briefly distracted by the constant ringing of my front door — loud and practically obnoxious, although I pertain to get it. Thoughts of Cara carelessly losing or forgetting her key the result to this abrupt cause of knocking.
But it's not Cara...
...it's Harry.
He's standing before me sheepishly. Rubbing at his nape as he begins to fumble and jumble over his words every second his mouth opens. With some time, Harry manages to ask, "Can I, please come in, Niall?"
"Why? Did you grow tired of Liam's company too as you were with mine, so you're here to knock around about me again?" The snap in my voice makes Harry externally wince, and I almost would too if I weren't so concerned about where that unexpected attitude came from. And why it made a sudden appearance.
All the same Harry sighs at my words. He utters nothing else, but pushes me aside as he furthers into my home. Leaving me to trail closely behind him like an obedient pet with his loyal owner.
And I do feel like a pet, maybe a pug per se. An obedient pug that the Styles–Cox family owned for many many years. I've witnessed the sparse amount of emotions shared and words enunciated — boldly or unconfidently within the family. I've encountered it all.
"It's not like that Ni, and you know that," Harry says once he sits on the couch. He helps himself to my almost empty bowl of popcorn, humming once he ingests a handful of the corn. "I came here because I felt guilty for leaving you behind when I created Niall and Harry day for us both."
Instead of speaking my arms wrap around my body as I heave a small smile of acceptance. Harry eyes me up hesitantly before reciprocating a broader smile. "It can be just like when we were fourteen, but with coddles and smiles," he adds. And grabbing the nearest pillow, I throw it at Harry's head roughly as he whines out.
"No fourteen," I mumble warningly. Harry nods while I join his side restarting The Outsiders to his aggressive request. Then we're platonically coddled into one another as the opening credits replay for the second time this evening.
I still feel that adrenaline rush re-watching the classic film. If a movie can make you, continuously, feel excitement and mixtures of unexplainable emotions then it's a genuine movie. Thorough to watch again and again and again and again — all day and all night.
"You're not still mad at me, right?" Harry whispers into my ear, drawing a sudden chill while his eyes search mine for clarification. I subconsciously shake my head and Harry heaves a relieved breath before his attention turns back to the film.
HarryandNiallday is re-experienced with a recapture of The Outsiders, a movie the three of us -- myself, Harry, and Zayn -- have watched since we were younger and inexperienced. Coddles that kept the cold autumn air transitioning into winter. And, brief cries, shed tears, and sincere laughs between I and my best friend gratefully.
That's all I really needed for the evening, right?
VIBRATIONS ARE MY ALARM clock and I have no actual alarm clock, but Harry's phone was sounding off for an nth time this morning with the caller ID of Anne's name on the illuminated screen of his phone. My eyes open to the morning light finding myself where I had dozed off the previous night: in the lounge area with a blanket loosely wrapped around I, but Harry also. A stretched arm is wrapped protectively around my chest.
It feels like paradise. A moment away from reality as I soak, sleepily, in my best friends arms. Listening to the stringing melodic sounds of his snoring in my ear — imprinting its sound into my memory. Not that I mind at all. But I do mind the continuous ringtone of Marimba echoing throughout the room as I roughly groan before shaking Harry awake so he can retrieve his mother's phone calls.
With huffs and puffs, dramatically of course, Harry's large thumb slides to the right of the phone screen. His raspy voice sounds out when he mumbles a greeting of 'yes mum' — the beginning of an intently brief conversation as Harry's eyes nearly bulge out of its sockets. Then he's shuffling to sit up and grabbing for his trainers, throwing our shared blanket just about everywhere in the process as he muffles his faint words into the speaker.
The phone call ends, yet Harry is still rushing around the lounge. Making an attempt to capture all of his belongings for his abrupt morning departure. I, in awe, watch him move the fastest he's ever moved without tripping over his two left feet or falling over because he bumped into the respirating air.
With that same awe, I question him fondly. A mild interest bubbles in my oesophagus at the sudden locomotion. "Where are you going and why are you in such a rush to get there?"
Harry runs several fingers through his hair. Moving the chocolate strands around so he doesn't look like he's suffered from bedhead not too many minutes ago. It's been a habit of his even when we were younger and the more curious about why everything in the world is the way it is. "Gemma's stopped by before she leaves. I have to go see her," he answers without bothering to make eye contact with me.
There's this little boy in Harry, internal but all the same prominent. This character that only comes out when some of his childhood is exposed. The symptoms of this characters appearance is lack of focus, enthusiasm to an extent, and thoughtless actions. Those actions reveal themselves within Harry at the moment as I watch him lace the strings of his trainers thoughtlessly.
"I –" Harry can barely utter another word through the heavy air he's inhaling. But he points towards the door, so I understand. Then I nod casually as he trails towards the entrance door to my house. He turns around only to ruin my fringe more than it already is while his lips meet the top of my head, my forehead.
"Harry," I call out once his hand meets the knob. He turns around swiftly, catching my eye before a broad, morning smile ups the curvature of his pink lips. His eyebrows raise for me to continue. "Tell Gemma I say good luck on her journey and I love her like the sister I've always wanted."
It's a banter that causes Harry to laugh, all the same he nods understandingly. The front door automatically closes behind Harry.
It takes no more than a minute to process his disappearance, but sleep clouds my functioning mind. And, like I'm left with no other ultimatum, I grab ahold of my blanket as I trail
upstairs to my bedroom to obtain more sleep before my work shift starts in the next several hours.
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Honestly yall I'm so upset about this grade for my final. Now I have to retake a different test with the same curriculum in August. the cons of living within the New York State — wish me luck.