anobrain // narry au

man

I have many chapters written and ready to publish. I feel so ahead!

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chapter ten. done for you.

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THERE WAS STILL SCHOOL when I woke the following day, to a sunlit morning with Harry sleeping beside me. Brunet hair standing up in every direction making him look like a replica of Sasquatch from all of his thick and choppy hair.

Subconsciously my fingers tread through the knotty tendrils on Harry's head—stopping once my fingers intermix with the soft ends of it.

Harry's then awakening in a fright because of me. He brushes his hair out of his face with his fingers, greeting me with a warm drowsy smile that I don't hesitate to return back. "I'm hungry," he says. "Maybe a certain best friend of mine should make waffles with hazelnut spread, and cream."

I chortle, already liking the amiable atmosphere forming between myself and Harry  this morning. "Or maybe a certain best friend of mine should make hazelnut spread waffles, they do sound delightful. With cream,"

"No," Harry tuts out. "I'd rather you make them."

And maybe just maybe, I shove Harry roughly, almost causing him to fall from my bed. And maybe he defends himself by pushing me back rougher.

Then we're making this awkward eye contact. The one where it's more than just gazing at one another for a long amount of time. Almost like you want to say words but you're just so tongue-tied so you take in every little detail — I take in the many different colours of Harry's eyes.

And they're not just green and tree bark brown. In the sunlight they're a translucent green intermixed with a cerulean blue. Maybe from the reflection of the sky passing through my bedroom window and the white drapes covering it. The usual naturalistic brown is a hazel brown now, a little similar to the bright amber eyes of Zayn.

It gets awkward automatically after my eyes shift from the gaze they had on Harry's. I find him rubbing his nape uncomfortably while I bite onto my lip. "We should get ready for school," I say, already departing from the comforting quilts on my bed. Harry follows after me but we tread to different parts of my house.

After a brief shower to clear the mind, I also brush my teeth. Avoiding contact with the clear mirror before me. Ever since I was younger I've always felt disturbed looking into the mirror while brushing my teeth. It's one of those actions everyone considers odd from their perspective until they find a peculiar action for themselves.

I enter the kitchen to see Nutella covered waffles laid upon the countertop on a plastic plate. A serving of two: I and Harry. He's already eating his, wearing a grin directed right at me as I bite into one of the three of my microwaveable waffles. A delighted moan at my lips from the flavorful taste.

"I should put your reaction onto my CV if I ever dab into culinary. The waffles are that great. Explains why Starbucks hired me," Harry brags cheekily. I roll my eyes at him before he erupts into a fit of chuckles. Then we're off to school before we're too late.

Of course we're taking Harry's car so he can territorially control the music playing on his phone. Not that I mind at all. Once you get accustomed to someone's ways, it's difficult to ever get angered by their habits anymore. That's how I feel with Harry and all of his pet peeves as he probably is with mine — that's the bond of a strong best friendship.

AT SCHOOL I'M SCUFFLING down the corridor because I'm late for Physics. Apparently Harry and I lost track of the time stopping and goofing and knocking about on the way to school in his car. It was fun at that very moment until I glanced at my phone to check the time and nearly had an attack when my first class started in five minutes and we were ten minutes away from school. With the usual mass of traffic around us.

And it's Physics. The hardest and strictest class on my block for this school year. Although I chose to take it.

With my arms hidden in the sleeves of my hoodie because of the cold autumn air, (that doesn't quite feel like autumn anymore), I rush and rush past the remainder of students knocking around in the halls. I don't recognise a single face. Nor do I try to, until a hand grasps my wrist and I gasp at the abruptness of the gesture.

I turn around to see Liam. With an unfamiliar and unidentifiable look on his face as he eyes me up intently. Warily I pull my wrist from his weak grip, frowning at the tacit contact. All the same I amiably greet him. Humbly and waving small. "Hi Liam."

Liam returns a cordial wave but makes no effort to utter a word to me. And it's awkward. More awkward than when I was with Harry this morning and the peculiar eye contact we made with each other. It's more discomforting because I can, easily, feel the tension between Liam and I; it's that prominent. There like a bright detail in a painting. Like movement in still-life art.

"Have you seen Harry?" he asks softly. Although I and Liam know he's in Biology at the moment with Zayn. Probably arrived to his class before I can with Physics, and why am I not freaking out about this anymore?

Because I'm distracted by Liam Payne.

Biting at my lip I shake my head, intentionally depriving Liam of his desire, Harry. "No I don't, sorry," I tell him.

"Are you sure?" Liam presses. He looks at me with a great amount of hesitance. I feel uncomfortable underneath his strong stare. "Because I really need to tell him something important."

I have the choice to expose Harry by giving his location to Liam. Suck him back into the abyss he calls a relationship that only consists of lust, physical attraction, and the general amount of sex. I have the option to pull Harry back into an ionic way of living instead of his covalent way. A life he's lived before without the many amounts of conflicts he experiences weekly with Liam.

Right now, the ball is in my park. The bat is in my hand and I control everything Liam currently wants.

And it's not a good feeling, really.

I stare at Liam. Scanning his distraught features. Baggy eyes with a faint purple colour underneath them showing he lacks the common hours of sleep the past day. Disheveled hair, and though it isn't that long in length, it's messy. The way Harry looked this morning when he awoke.

He doesn't look like the Liam I usually see during the several hours of school we have together — he looks exhausted and deprived of sleep.

All the same I shake my head again. "I'm sorry Liam, I haven't seen him," I say, watching his entire face drop. "I have to get to class, I'm late. But I'm sorry, again."

And just like that I'm departing from a distressed Liam. Probably giving him a reoccurrence of déjà vu with that moment he shared with Harry yesterday evening.

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do you think Niall is wrong for brushing Liam off like that, or do you think Liam deserved it?

there's a lot more to come in Anobrain. I'm excited to write (which explains why I have so many chapters finished and published). your narry is coming soon, just be patient.