the color yellow // l.s.

36.

"Do you guys just get freaked out about time?" Harry asks Niall and Liam. He also realized earlier that they don't have to hide anything anymore. His friends know everything about him, and it makes hanging out much more fun.

Niall throws a football at him. "What are you on about?"

He sighs, picks up the ball, and lunges it back. He lays back down on Niall's bed, looks up, and sighs again. "I don't know. I'm just nervous about things. About graduating, and University. It's a lot of change in such little time."

"Zayn has the most wonderful mouth," Liam adds, who apparently, is too wrapped up in his own head to realize what they're talking about. "Like, it's incredible."

Harry and Niall both laugh. "Liam, we know. You tell us all the time."

"Well," Liam says with a sigh. "It's true."

"Louis' is better. Silky smooth. Always minty fresh. Knows how to work it," Harry dreamily says. "It's addicting."

"Well, Zayn does this thing with his tongue—"

"Stop!" Niall shouts. "I don't want to know about Zayn's tongue, or Louis' silky mouth, ya wankers. Bloody hell. Want me to go on about Lily's boobs? Her heavenly mouth? Would you two like that?"

Harry's nose scrunches. "Not really."

"Then shut it, yeah?" Niall speaks with a huff.

"You okay, Niall?" Liam asks. He's sitting in the sofa chair in his room, but Niall remains beside Harry.

"Yeah, fine. Just don't want you two to go on a 'my boyfriend's better than yours' argument."

"Well, Zayn's not my boyfriend," Liam mutters. "I'm just happy, is all. Harry, you didn't talk about how incredible it is to be with someone you're actually attracted to. I feel like I could explode with all of these new emotions."

Harry grins and leans up on his elbows to stare at Liam. "Yeah, it's nice. Doesn't really go away. Wait until you fall in love. Turns all the emotions up by a thousand, no less."

"Goddamn it, guys. Talking like life's a romance film or some shit," Niall groans. "Let's talk about—" He picks up the football. "About football. Sports. Yeah."

Harry snorts. "I'm shit at sports, Niall."

"Yeah. Same," Liam agrees.

"Christ," Niall mumbles, throwing his football down to the carpeted floor in defeat. "I'll call Louis, then, since he loves sports. Including football."

Harry fully sits up at that, his brow furrowed, as he stares at Niall. "You're joking."

Niall shrugs and stands, avoiding eye contact with Harry. "Yeah. We talk sometimes about the football games on the phone when they're on."

He narrows his eyes in on his mate, watching as he aimlessly kicks the ball around until it hits the wall and rolls back. "What are you on about? You trying to make a move on my boyfriend?" he jokingly asks, but he couldn't help but be curious. He didn't know Niall and Louis were that close.

Niall turns his head, but once his eyes fall on Harry's face, he laughs. "Absolutely not. My relationship isn't a sham, unlike your boys' were with your ladies. Lily and I are perfectly happy together, thank you."

"Well, actually," Liam says, voice turned serious. Harry stares at him, notices how he suddenly looks nervous with his gaze drawn downward, and starts feeling nervous too. "I have to admit something." He looks up, eyes dead-set on Niall. "It really was all a sham. Everything. Even with Zayn. Because I love you, Niall James Horan. Always have and always will."