“Styles, move.” Liam Payne spat viciously, as he stood in front of where Harry was sat on their normal sofa chairs where the four boys always found themselves sitting. Harry looked up from his work with a sigh, annoyed that he had been pulled away from his revision, as he was met by a demanding-looking Liam.
“Is that really necessary?” Harry asked tiredly, rubbing his forehead a little in annoyance. All he wanted to do was revise, he didn’t want to be moved along by his brat of a best friend who was stood in front of him with a deep frown and crossed arms, like some sort of club bouncer.
“Yes, it is necessary, now are you going to move out of my fucking seat or am I going to have to move you myself?” Liam threatened again, his dark eyes boring down on Harry. The curly haired lad let out a short sigh and closed his notepad, looking away and shaking his head a little in frustration.
To say the last week or so had been rough was correct. Harry had had to deal with sarcastic little smiles, threats, bad looks, or his personal favourite, the blank stare from Liam day after day. The thought of Liam walking past him in the corridor and not even giving him a glance was petty enough, let alone Liam having the actual audacity and balls to do it. It made Harry feel embarrassed for both him, and Liam. Of course, Liam’s little threats were all bark and no bite, not since the occasion where Harry had hit Liam in the face with a folder.
Harry smirked a little as he put his bag over his shoulder, his mind reminding him how Liam had looked after he had swung his folder into his face. The two big brown eyes that had looked up at him in shock, the small pout that would make anyone want to punch it off, and of course, those little watery drops in the corner of his eyes due to the force of the folder hitting his face.
“Get a move on.” Liam sighed, as he stood in front of Andy and Louis, glaring at Harry expectantly. Harry looked at him with a small smirk, a light chuckle falling from his lips.
“Now, now, Li, let’s not forget how hard my folder feels against those pretty cheeks.” Harry spat out, as he stepped around Liam to let his three so-called friends sit down.
From the corner of his green eyes, he saw how Louis had to cover his mouth with his book to hide the oncoming laughter he was trying to stifle. His grey eyes were twinkling with mischief, Louis being the only one brave enough to laugh at Liam’s expense out of him and Andy Samuels. Andy simply pulled a face, more interested in sitting down then the girly spat that was going on between Harry and Liam.
“You never told us about that, Liam…” Louis chuckled, looking at Liam expectantly. Liam simply glared at him before taking off his bag to sit down.
“Shut up, Louis.” Liam hissed, which only caused the boy to let out a slight giggle as he dropped onto the sofas. Harry shook his head playfully at the boy, finding his antics funny still, even if he had been following Liam around like a puppy.
Harry looked back in front of him as he put one step in front of the other to walk away from Liam, when the thud of textbooks hitting the floor came from behind him. Assuming it was Andy carelessly dropping his books as he sat down, Harry thought nothing of it. That was until two large hands came out of nowhere and shoved Harry in the back. The forceful shove took the lanky boy off balance, and Harry soon found himself in a pile on the floor, surrounded by his books.
“Jesus, Li!” Harry heard Louis quip. This was soon followed by the quiet laughter of Andy, who was now sat next to Louis on the sofas, the two boys looking at the scene in front of them.
“Bitch is on his period.” Andy mumbled, as Harry turned around from his position on the floor to look up at Liam with a scowl. The common room was quiet except for shocked whispers and Andy’s laughing. His two green eyes looked over Liam’s form and immediately felt a flush of anger rage through his body.
Liam simply stood above him, a lazy yet smug smirk slapped on his face, his arms folded across his chest like some sort of diva. His hair was ruffled a little, a new and different style to how it normally was, but in what Harry assumed was an attempt to make himself stand out to Harry. That’s all Liam ever did, silent and subtle acts of attention seeking. The shove was just another cry for attention, but this time, Harry was returning it.
“You better wipe that fucking smirk off, Liam.” Harry’s voice growled, the tone turning deeper as it always did when he was angry. Liam frowned a little in confusion, before his brown eyes widened as Harry pulled himself up from his pile of books and his bag to lurch forward and tackle Liam, going straight for his face.
Liam let out a yelp and threw his arms up in defence, which only caused the two boys to clash into each other before the real fight started. They both ended up being dragged onto the common room floor, where kicks and punches started to fly out in every direction. The rest of the boys in the room suddenly started to cheer and yell, gathering around quickly at the scene to get every piece of the action. If either boy had been listening, they would have heard Louis’ shouts as he tried to gather bets.
“Arrogant, smug twat!” Harry spat through gritted teeth, as he finally managed to pin Liam down. It was a tough scrap, both boys were different in build. Although Harry’s toned body could put up some fight, he was dealing with an athlete here. Liam had broad shoulders and a body built for boxing, he was finding it hard to get the upper hand in this one.
“Atleast I’m not fucking ashamed of myself!” Liam grunted back, before grabbing Harry’s hair and using it to pull the skinny lad down to the floor roughly. Harry kicked out the minute he felt Liam’s vice like grip on his curls. Liam simply forced the boy’s face further into the common room carpet, which scratched at Harry’s face like sandpaper.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry growled, desperately still trying to kick out so that he could get out from under Liam’s rough hold.
By this time, Liam was sat on the boy’s back, one of his arms pinning Harry’s behind his back as the other pushed his face into the floor. The curly haired boy couldn’t feel any particular pain, not knowing what felt worse, the scratching carpet on his cheeks or the way his arm was bent behind his back and was being kept there against his will. He just knew he felt pain.
As Liam tugged his hair roughly once again, causing Harry to wince and kick out at the boy again, he heard a sound that he didn’t want to hear at this point. His conscience. It simply rumbled quietly at the back of his mind, like the way a heavy thunderstorm would as it rolled off into the distance. Harry kicked out unsuccessfully at Liam once again as he heard his conscience tell him that he deserved this; partly, atleast.
“You know what I mean, Hazz.” Liam grunted again, although his voice was lower, quieter, intended for the curly haired boy and the curly haired boy alone to hear it. Harry’s face simply curled up into a snarl, his bottom lip being sucked inbetween his teeth in an angry reaction to how Liam was talking down to him.
He knew what Liam was talking about. He knew who he was referring too, the situation that he thought so lowly of. Harry’s toes curled in anger within his black school shoes, as his body started to slowly shudder from how angry he felt the minute Liam’s smug words clicked inside his mind. He could let Liam rough him up, he wouldn’t care about what the other boys in the sixth called out or yelled at them both now, or later.
But the minute his and Zayn’s relationship was brought into it; the minute Liam tried to use Zayn to mock him…that was not on in Harry’s books.
“Get here you little shit!” Harry snapped, before he finally managed to forcefully shove Liam’s body from off him. He pulled his arm away from its forced hold within Liam’s large hand, ignoring the strained muscles in his shoulder, before he grabbed any part of Liam he could.
Harry’s closed fist flew into Liam’s face soon enough, the crack that came from it echoing around the rowdy atmosphere of the school common room. As the blood fell from Liam’s nose as if the impact of Harry’s closed knuckles had hit a tap within it and onto his shirt and Harry’s hand, the common room went silent. As the boys around all realised that this had gone from what seemed to be a small scrap to a full on fight of hatred, a new, cold temperament fell upon the room. Various curses of shock slipped from the boy’s mouths.
Harry Styles’ chest heaved quickly, his breathing trying to recover back into it’s normal rate as his body tried to process what had just happened in the quick flurry of the last ten minutes. He sat opposite Liam Payne, who was clutching at his nose, the deep red liquid still slowly falling over his pouting lips and chin, ruining the white school shirt that he was in.
There was a silent moment, only ragged breaths from the two boys filling the room, before Harry pushed himself up, his green eyes glancing at the small figure stood by the door. The figures two hands clutched onto the large sketchbook as if it was the only thing he could protect, his big brown eyes looking down at Harry in worry through the figures of the taller built boys around him.
Harry roughly pulled himself up to his feet, swaying a little bit as the blood and adrenaline from the fight rushed to his head quicker than his liking. He grabbed his bag and books in silence, the rest of the boys around them looking on in a silent curiousity, none of them knowing who could do what next. Harry brought his hand up to his sore lip, his brow furrowing slightly in pain as his dry skin came into contact with the sensitive, bleeding slit on his bottom lip.
Liam Payne continued to look up at him with that same look, the look of realisation that Harry will pack a punch in his direction when provoked properly. The look that he isn’t as perfectly successful as he took himself to be. The look of his high self-expectations shattering in an embarrassing mess. Harry simply huffed, slowly licking his lips, before opening his mouth to let what rocky sounding words he was holding back out.
“Don’t bring him into our shit.”
Liam swallowed heavily, nodding a little bit, as he looked up at Harry with timid looking eyes. Harry gave one last nod, a slight grunt rumbling softly from the back of his throat, before he turned to leave the common room. The small crowd of teenage boys practically tripped over their own feet to part for him to walk through them.
As Harry pushed through the common room doors where that significant other of his was standing, looking up at his boyfriend with worried eyes, he felt a soft hand reach out and brush his knuckles. Harry shivered a little but he heard his gruff reply to the small touch of affection before he could reel it in.
“Not now.” He sighed quietly, before leaving the common room and heading up the stairs, heading to the art closet nevertheless. Zayn Malik scurried after him nevertheless, a slight squeak leaving his lips as he tried to catch up with Harry’s march.
“He hurt you!” Zayn’s quiet voice squeaked as he tried to catch up with Harry and keep his books in his arms.
Harry grunted and shrugged as the pain from his fight with Liam finally started to take a toll on his body. His left shoulder and arm ached in pain, his elbow feeling twisted and uncomfortable. He didn’t dare try to balance his bag strap on that shoulder, knowing that the pain would be way too intense. His head felt heavy, all he wanted to do was collapse and curl up in a ball of warmed up death.
“Harry!” Zayn tried again, reaching out and holding onto his hurt hand, as gently as the boy could.
“Jesus, Zayn, pack it in!” Harry snapped, snatching his bruising hand away from his boyfriend’s soft touch and shoving it into his blazer pockets, even though the material felt rough and sore.
Zayn squeaked again and flinched, clutching his books as his brown eyes looked up warily at the curly haired boy who was storming one or two paces in front of him. The flinch didn’t go unnoticed by Harry, and the curly haired boy sighed, annoyed that he would ever make Zayn flinch or scared. Harry knew he had enough of that shit at home away from him.
“C’mere.” Harry whispered, before bringing his sore hand from his pocket and offering it back to Zayn, as they rounded the corner to get into the art closet. Zayn quickly shuffled towards Harry, gently holding his hand as he nuzzled his face against Harry’s shoulder, placing a kiss against the blazer material.
Harry smiled a little before opening the old door to the cupboard and stepping to one side to let his raven-haired boyfriend inside first. Zayn stayed close to his side, shuffling in and pulling Harry in after as gently as he could. The two boys stepped over the left over paint bottles and old canvases until they got to their little spot under the window.
Zayn’s face was etched with a concerned kindness, as he carefully helped Harry to sit down, making sure that his boyfriend was placed comfortably on the best cushion of the two. Harry chuckled a little and tried to waft his concerned boyfriend away from him, but it was no use. Zayn’s hands reached out and took Harry’s bag from him so that he could place it by the wall.
Harry’s green eyes sparkled a little, almost as if watching how everything Zayn’s hands touched turned into a precious item, something to care for, even if it was just Harry’s old schoolbag. His body felt tired and sore, his head getting heavier along with his eyelids and his shoulder and arm was a whole other matter, but as Harry looked over how his fluffball nursed around him, he couldn’t help but smile a little.
“Why did you hit him, Harry? He bled…you hurt him.” Zayn’s quiet voice suddenly brought Harry from his admiring gaze, and he realised that there were two big brown eyes looking at him in a wonderful confusion. Harry sighed, wincing a little as Zayn’s gentle hands took his own bruised hand into their hold.
“Did you not like seeing me like that, fluff?” Harry asked softly, looking over his boyfriend’s face. Zayn’s head shook a little, his eyes never leaving Harry’s face as he waited for an answer to his question. He didn’t want to be demanding, and the dark haired boy hoped that he wasn’t being, but he just didn’t like seeing Harry so hurt, or Harry causing others to hurt.
“I’m sorry, babe, I wouldn’t like to see you like that either...but I snapped, Zee, he just,” Harry closed his eyes as a ragged sigh left his lips. Harry felt the cushion next to him dip a little under his boyfriend’s weight, and he slowly opened his eyes only to meet those dark ones inches away from his own. The small smile on his face rose without being told too.
“I won’t fight if you won’t fight either, okay?” Zayn asked, before his lips softly kissed the tender skin of Harry’s knuckles. The caring kiss stung a little, but Harry kept the smile on his face, the meaning of the kiss much more important than the stinging feeling.
“Who are you supposed to be fighting then, hmm?” Harry chuckled a little. With his sore hand still entwined within Zayn’s two hands, he still leaned over to prod the boy in his little tummy, which was starting to plump up due to the amount of food he was fed by Harry, and his Mother. Zayn let out a bashful giggle, as he looked down and nuzzled into Harry’s shoulder.
“Hmm? You in some fight club that you haven’t told me about?” Harry’s tired voice chuckled, looking down at Zayn’s bashful little face that was tucked on his shoulder.
“No, Harry…” Zayn mumbled, a childish whine accompanying the mumble, which made Harry’s heart swell a little. Harry chuckled before he slowly leant over and blew a raspberry onto the boy’s forehead, which made that blissful giggle rise from the quiet boy next to him.
For a moment, Zayn’s face slowly peered up and the two boy’s eyes met, which caused a wide smile to arise on both the boys’ lips. Harry tugged his hand within Zayn’s to get the boy’s attention, before mumbling a sleepy request for a cuddle. Zayn grinned and broke his hands hold from Harry’s to open his arms wide just as Harry was about to pull him into his arms.
“What, you want to be the big spoon?” Harry chuckled, smiling a little at how sweet his boyfriend looked as he sat cross-legged in front of him, holding his arms wide for him. The brown-eyed boy’s brow rose a little in confusion.
“No spoon, I just want to cuddle in your place. I have to look after you, you’re hurt.” Zayn replied, which caused Harry to chuckle, but shuffle over anyway.
“Alright, fluff, alright.” Harry’s raspy voice replied, and soon enough, he was the one cuddled up in Zayn’s arms and body.
Zayn smiled down at him, loving the feeling of how warm Harry’s body felt against his. Harry was a little taller than Zayn, and so the lanky boy was a little arms and limbs, but the brown-eyed boy loved the way the boy was tucked up so comfortably against him. He watched as his eyes slowly lost contact with Harry’s green ones, the tired boy slipping into a sleep. Zayn’s green eyes looked over the way his eyelashes all aligned in a perfect order, his mind savouring the arrangement ready for a sketch later. His hands slowly stroked his hair softly and the raven-haired boy smiled to himself, knowing that his Nana would be so proud that he’d looked after Harry, and been the big spoon, so well.
A/N: These updates are getting slower, I know, but from today onwards I have my Easter half term! That means, my lovelies, that I have two whole weeks off school for writing! So maybe I can get some more regular updates rolling, gosh knows you all deserve it!:) Hope you all enjoy, love always x
Oh! And #TEAMFLUFFBALL. <3