Take Me Home • h. styles ✔

14 | Little Faith

HARRY

     The clock was ticking. My eyes couldn’t stop themselves from looking at the time. I had been sitting on this couch for God knows how long. Had it been already an hour? Two hours? Three? I absolutely had no idea, because all inside my head was Niall. Each second that passed felt like a huge millstone, weighing me down constantly with utmost fear. I had no notion of what was happening inside his room at this point in time, and all of my prayers were certainly for my best friend’s recovery.

     All I wanted was to see his smile again.

 

     To hear his laugh again.

 

     To hear his soothing voice again.

 

     I wanted him to sing for me again.

     I had so many longings for him. My mind was already forming these thoughts of what I would do the moment when he opened his eyes. However, pondering too much could be quite serious sometimes, because my head was beginning to convince me to unwind, for it was finding fault of the growing pain from my constant worries. But no one could blame me for doing this. I couldn’t stop myself from being anxious, given the revelations that just got disclosed from Hannah’s words. Up until this time, as much as I wanted to discern her reasons for almost taking our lives away, my main concern was still my best friend’s survival.

     As my way of expending for even Louis to come out of the room, my eyes perused to the living room where I had been waiting. From the way it looked, almost all of its designs and furniture were conventional, like I was in the old times when people were living with simplicity and minimalism. However, the customary pieces of paraphernalia were harmonized with contemporary entities as well, where I could assume that they were in Hannah’s possession. She and Mike definitely had some issues between them, and not just only by their generation gap, but I knew that there was something more in depth and off beam in their relationship. That might be the reason why Hannah was holding back all the time, and whatever that is, I hoped that they would eventually find the means to settle up their matters. But the thing that I was really thankful for was the fact that she chose to disregard her livid feelings for her father at this time just for Niall, and I could see how the two of them were helping each other and doing everything they could do for him.

     To kill off my tedium, I decided to overlook of my pain and stand from the couch, and I slowly made my way towards the fireplace. Above it, alongside with dusty music albums and glass figurines were framed photos of younger Hannah and Mike, together with a woman and a little girl, all four of them showing off their genuine smiles for the camera. There were also solo stills of each member of the family, and there’s this one which had a special silver casing for it. Below the photo were three words that just appended my knowledge about the people whom I was staying with this humble home.

     The Foster Family.

 

     A broad smile formed on my lips as I read those words and as I continued to look at the Fosters’ beautiful, blissful snapshots. The thought of glancing these captured moments sent feelings of delight and dejection at the same time, for I knew that just by having this time of looking a little part of their lives, I could tell that they were once a happy family. From the way how Mike smiled while he had this little girl on his back to how Hannah’s stunning blue eyes sparkle with glee, there was no refusing to the fact that they all loved each other. As much as there was an insinuation of curiosity slowly beginning to form for my part as to where her mom and little sister were, I wanted to know more about her soon after all of the predicaments had been resolved.