anobrain // narry au

should

I get cold very easily.

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chapter five. harryandniallday.

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Just about anyone has had a letdown before. A time where high expectation weren't exceeded. I refer to the gut-wrenching experience as a time of disappointment, because that is all you feel in that moment, disappointed.

OUT FOR FOR NIALLANDHARRYDAY actually meant sharing a large extra cheese pizza pie at at local Pizza Hut, while Harry focused his attention towards his mobile the entire time I ingested and digested several slices of the pizza pie. A broad grin appearing then disappearing upon Harry's lips every now and then.

It doesn't take a wise man to know it's Liam he's talking to. These past two weeks, he's all Harry talks to. That, or about him.

About their undeveloped relationship, and how Harry doesn't want labels unlike Liam. Which can only mean sex. The only action that isn't turmoil in their relationship since it's reciprocated between the two of them. But then Harry speaks about this passion — this passion he desires in a relationship where someone fully understands him. And according to Harry Liam doesn't have that. Liam doesn't meet the criteria for Harry's relationship standards.

As Harry expressed and rambled, all I did was nod understandingly, because I really did understand. Aware of that automatic feeling of misunderstanding and/or misplacement. The times when I felt people weren't genuinely listening to me; they were hearing what I was enunciating but they weren't listening to me at all.

The rare moments Harry was off his phone during our time in Pizza Hut, I was updated on the transition of his life and the route it was taking him on. Like Gemma's three hour move to Croydon from Manchester alongside Michay, her boyfriend of many, many years. And Harry doesn't seem to be content about it, like Anne.

Anne has no discontent towards Gemma and Michay because they're mature young adults with plans and goals on their journey of life. But, Anne's discontent towards boy toy Liam after Harry finally introduced Liam to Anne as something more than just platonic.

Subconsciously I snicker at the story. Laughs only grow louder when Harry laughs instantaneously afterwards — a synchronisation of guffawing for nearly five minutes straight breaks the ice at the pub the other day.

Which feels good. It truthfully feels great. Until Harry had flashes me a broad and teasing smirk. Murmuring words of, "Mum says she'd only like you though." Before announcing our change in scenery from Pizza Hut to the Starbucks Coffeehouse. And like the passive adolescent boy I am, it's easy for me to comply. Especially to Harry.

Ingredients on the Starbucks menu are ordered and etiquettes are revealed before Harry and I find a bench in a nearby familiar park. Sharing a toffee crunch cookie while laughing and bantering and knocking about. There's this rush of nostalgia that almost overtakes me. Memories cloud my vision of my younger days during secondary school in this same park with Harry about five years ago.

Nothing but satisfactory warms my insides to have Harry and myself share this brief one-on-one time. Best friend to best friend with no worries in the world at the current moment. No thoughts of Liam or Zayn or Louis or the not so punk rock Punk Rock and Starbucks shifts for Harry nor myself, and schoolwork, none of it. It feels great. It feels better than great.

"Y'know," Harry mumbles, all the same his voice automatically grasps me from my thoughts. I turn to face him confusingly nonethelesss I keep a remaining smile upon my face. "It feels good that we can maintain our friendship since that night when we were fourteen."

Like a constant ringing to my ears, my hands cover them protectively. The function of skin over a skeleton kind of protection but I find myself too caught up in my head with that familiar itch that doesn't soothe me in the slightest. Still I conclude with myself to play it off by shoving Harry, playfully, by his shoulder as I laugh off a situation that's really no laughing matter.

Harry shoves back just as playful then reflexes, leads to a playful fight with every permanent thought temporarily forgotten. But, to me, that's just what I need: to forget. Forget about the actions exchanged when I went through a curious stage at fourteen.

Nor the thoughts about my future stressing and spurring my thoughts to an extent. And the amount of professions crossing and entering my mind daily as I conclude a backup plan after backup plan for reassurances.

Maybe .. in this interim moment, all I deserve is to omit.

Unfortunately my mind doesn't spur far when Harry's mobile rings out. A swift glance at the caller ID makes him roll his eyes toward the moon before giving me the 'one moment' finger as Harry strides to a neighbouring tree to answer Liam's phone call. It's the perfect time to check my own. Only to see two text messages from Louis and my mother — Louis rambling confidently about Zayn's privates and my mother asking about my safety. I respond to both their messages before Harry walks towards me again.

This time, as earlier, he looks sympathetic. Sympathetic and miserable and guilty all tied in together and prominent on his face. I hold in a breath when Harry stands before me. "I have to go. Liam says he needs something," he announces quietly, rubbing at his nape. Harry usually does that when the atmosphere gets discomfortable.

And if guilt, sympathy, and wretch is easy to identify on Harry's face, disappointment is noticeable on mine. All the same I confidently nod my head before my hands come together for a clap of finalisation. "I understand," I say although my interior demeanour disagrees.

Harry nods responsively before the two of us part ways. Myself to my home not too far a walk from the park as Harry takes off to Liam's, todo whatever it is that the two do when they're alone together.

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Yesterday was the pride parade and I really wanted to go, but I couldn't. So maybe next year.

I feel that my writing is becoming very weak, and I apologise if it is. I'll try to make up for it in chapter six.