GODSPEED | HARRY STYLES

NINETEEN.

This chapter contains:
*Potential Trigger Warnings/Mention of things that may be triggering to some. Pretty mild though*

*Usage of marijuana*

**

"You're really good at this."

"Years of practice."

"Can I roll one?"

"We only need the one and I'm already rolling it."

"But I wanna roll one."

"Well you should've said something before."

"I didn't know I wanted to until I saw you doing it and now I wanna do it."

"Too bad."

"But—"

"God, fine! Here. But if you fuck up and waste a wrap I'll kill you."

"Reasonable."

"Better be. Because I will not hesitate, Styles."

Surprisingly, he does a good job. It's a neat little blunt, perfect size and everything. I'm shocked.

I decide to smoke Harry's blunt so I can keep mine for me. I'm not gonna use the better one for the both of us, no way.

Now we're out by the pool, lighting the blunt and passing it back and forth. My tolerance is pretty high, so I had to use some of the stronger shit so I wasn't just soberly tolerating a stoned Harry. Maybe it'll mellow him out and he'll just fall asleep and I can leave.

It's not long before we finish it off and I put it out. Harry's already feeling it, leaning back into his chair and shutting his eyes.

Oh shit, maybe he will actually fall asleep.

I should get him high more often.

"I'm terrified I'm going to be alone forever."

Oh.

Oh no.

He's one of those.

Wonderful.

"Huh?" I lift my head up to look at him.

I'm starting to feel the effects now, and a conversation like this is something I definitely don't want to keep up with. I don't get high and giggle and scream and talk about aliens. I get high, shut my mouth, and crash out. At most I'll eat loads and loads of food prior to crashing, but I am just not a talkative person when high.

Also, these sort of conversations don't happen until later into the night. How the hell is he already contemplating his life?

"I think about it a lot. And I'm so scared I'm going to grow old all alone."

"That sounds great, though."

"See, how do you do it?" He asks, sitting up to look at me.

"Do what?"

"This whole "I hate everyone" thing. You're so content with being alone. Like you could care less about whether or not you end up alone in life. If anything it seems like you prefer to be alone."

"I do."

"How can I be like that?"

"Whoa man, no. Trust me, you don't want to be."

"Why not?"

"Because it's just not what you want. You're scared of ending up alone? Well being the way I am will definitely guarantee you'll end up alone."