The Water Boy (Narry)

Chapter 16

"Please tell me that this is the last load." Harry drawled out to me as he sat in the chair, helping me with all the folding as I pulled out the freshly dry sports shorts from the drying machine. He was the one who offered to help me with the washing in the first place. I've never thought I would hear the bloke complaining about laundry. There wasn't even that much to do. Then again, I was used to doing this sort of thing.

"I bet you this is your first time having to wash your own uniform." I told him as I picked up the practice jerseys and dropped the pile down in front of where he was sitting. I then walked over to the pile of black shorts to put them into the clean linen bin.

"You do it so wonderfully." He joked with me as he lifted up the first jersey and folded it in half. 

I wanted to turn around when he said it because I actually took the small joke as a compliment. Nobody obviously appreciated me for my work and it was nice to hear it from the person I wanted to most, the light hint that he might not be serious aside. 

He seemed to melt into the idea of us being friends rather quickly. It was only about an hour ago that I had sat beside him and watched as he struggled with telling me that he could read me and know that I was not looking at him but I was looking to him. That must have meant the Harry wasn't just looking at the water boy. He, too, was looking to me. I never even noticed that because Harry's face was so serious, maybe to the point where it fooled me into thinking that it was emotionless. I was in complete awe with the words and how they sounded coming from him that my jaw felt heavy. I kept it closed because I didn't want him to feel any worse than his straining voice was already showing to me. 

Of course, I didn't feel so open about it like we was. I still felt myself holding back about being around Harry. I still had that beaten boy to protect. I was starting to sound a bit like Liam. Though, after our conversation, I did feel a relaxing feeling that I never thought I would have a chance to feel. 

When I did turn around to talk to him I stopped as I saw him holding up the 'TOMLINSON' jersey. As much as I wanted to cringe, like I did whenever I had his or Zayn's uniform in my hands, I didn't because a frown began to form across Harry's face at the sight of his, now ex, best friend's jersey. I didn't ask him how he felt because he had no clue that I heard the conversation between them earlier. I did what I was best at. I kept quiet. 

Harry caught me watching him so gave him a short smile. All he did was let out a sigh as he quickly folded it and set it back down to the floor. He didn't talk much afterwards and he was probably just lost in thought about all the recent happenings. Just like with me, everything must have been hitting him all at once. I just hoped that he wouldn't have a breakdown in the laundry room because I wouldn't be stable enough to help him this time. Don't beat yourself up over me. It's too late to change what happened. 

"All set." He announced to me quietly. Harry leaned forward from his chair and picked up the freshly done pile of jerseys and placed them on his lap, drumming them before lifting them up to hand over to my approaching figure. 

Taking them from him, my fingertips accidentally glided along the long length of his fingers, running them over his knuckles and then the bump of the ring he wore. His skin was softer than I had imagined. I always figured it would be rough. He never pulled away from my unintentional touch but his eyes did glance down from his fingers and then up at me. By now the jerseys were already in my possession and I still stood right in front of Harry. Just friends, Niall. Just friends.

He was the first to clear his throat, reaching over to his side to pick up his aiding crutch. "Um, why don't you put those away and I'll meet you in the foyer?" He ran those fingers through his hair before he stood up, not wanting me to help as I went to tuck the thick pile of jerseys under my arm to reach out to him.