Damaged » h. styles au

Chapter 93 - Harry

6 CHAPTERS TO GO! PS.: I reccomend you to listen to either 'Turn Your Face' by Little Mix or 'Say Something' by A Great Big World ft. Christina Aguilera whilst reading this. Or not. Whatever.

                                                                   93. 

                                                             ●•Harry•●

Half of my flat was already packed up. The kitchen was littered with boxes all over the counter and the floor, several glass utensils wrapped in newspaper and carefully placed above small amounts of crumpled paper and tiny balls of Styrofoam, just in case. Some others had also been wrapped with some bubble wrap Leigh managed to bring me, and so that’s how my whole kitchen ended summed up to paperboard.

Leigh and Savanna were now at my room wrapping all the souvenirs and putting them into smaller boxes, so I could take that with me to NY, whilst Davie and Mark had gone to some fabric to try and get more boxes for me (better keep them away from all the breakable things sticking all ways into the flat).

I, on the other hand, was standing dumbly at the kitchen, leaning against the counter with the glass of water I had used as an excuse to be all on my own still sitting between my fingers, untouched. It was awesome knowing I was going to a new university to actually start my life, for sure, now; getting a proper job and doing what I had signed up for since the moment I realized music was my thing.

But it was devastating watching all the little details, as well as bigger ones, which I’d carefully taken my time to find their place in this flat, being engulfed by empty boxes that seemed to have the power to make the walls look paler than ever. It was devastating tripping over things here and there, now out of their usual place, ready to be discarded.

And it was devastating thinking of the fact that, now, more than ever, I wouldn’t be seeing my family as often. I didn’t think moving out for the first time had felt as bad as it felt now, somehow, even though it had been the first real separation. It didn’t have as many boxes and empty corners, because most of the things had remained at my parents’ house. There was a plus, though. I would be closer to Gem, if anything. At least.

“Mate, this is wicked,” Mark surged at the doorstep all of sudden, making me jump on my spot, at which both he and Davie laughed at. “Can’t believe you’re actually moving out, away from us.” He theatrically kneed on the floor, clasping his hands together. “Don’t do this, Harry. Don’t break my heart. Please don’t leave me, don’t leave us.”

I rolled my eyes, chugging the glass of water in one go and walking closer to them. When I dropped the news a week ago it had been with everyone around: parents and closest friends. Which resulted in a loud, unison cheer, lots of hugs and ‘congratulations’ wishes, but also meant there was still a lot of talking to be done in private, with each of them. This was going to be just one of them, I could tell. Just me and the boys.

I took a deep breath, offering a hand to help Mark stand up again, trying to quell the slight squeeze in my chest of just the thought of not having these two around to f–ck up with me when my moods were the worst.

“Every story has its end, sorry,” I shot him a weak smile, leaning back against the wall. “Don’t worry though, I know you’ll find a way of bothering ever more now, because the realization of the distance seems to sink in faster when it’s farther. It’s acceptable to live a block away from each other but not talking for months, but it’s not acceptable to live in another country without talking every day. People and their beliefs.”