Introvert

9

'Love cracked me once

I hope sorely that it will be the only time

And that it remains the one time

When your smile broke me' ~ Anonymous

||Shyanna||

I'm late to the next class, as well. This time, though, Anna and Kristy are with me, huddled around me, passing me drinks and soft words of love. I love these girls more than life. They are everything to me, and despite the fact friendships change, these two have never changed. 

"I love you." I whisper into Kristy's arm as she hugs me tightly, kissing my head.

"You love everyone, you ridiculous twit." Kristy says with a smirk, giving me a soft nudge. And that's why I love them. Because I am not broken to them, I am not irreparable. I am normal, average. No different to them in any shape or form.

"I don't understand why people would hate you," I say, locking eyes with Anna. Her cheeks redden slightly, hands curling into Kristy's top softly. I smile crookedly, the only smile that is true when they drag it out of me. Anna softly pets at my hair, and I softly sigh into the touch. I can't help but wonder when I started trusting them so readily.

"Nor you, love." Anna gives me a soft glare as Kristy kisses my temple.

That's new. Hm.

I shuffle out of their way as they lead me to the corridor, hands against me. It's like they're frightened of my breaking, as if I am not whole but shattered. I like the fact they are so comforting, but the fact they have to be upsets me. I am hopelessly broken. No, I am not irreparable, for nothing is. Everything is fixed if it can be imagined that way, even if it isn't really so. 

So as I head to art, the hands of the people I love attached to my sides, I know I am broken, but I am getting there. I will get there, and I will be happier, so I walk into art smiling. Not because I am happy, but because I soon will be. Love will set my heart free, no matter what form that comes in.

||Louis|| (if you don't like gay stuff, larry, or Louis, stop reading this bit. It's not necessary to the overall plotline but it is super adorable) (also how do u not like Louis how?)

"Can't we just ditch?" Harry asks, a grin on his face. I roll my eyes at him. We've skipped too many times this term, we can't afford to do it again. Besides, in drama we get to be as raucous and ridiculous as possible, as well as getting to mock Niall for his crush with Shyanna, so it's not that bad. If we had physics, I'd agree. But we can't ditch this lesson. Not now, not ever. I can act as though the amount I touch Harry is because of my character. I'm in no mood to say 'hey, H, you're a little gay, too, wanna fuck?' whenever I hug him too tight. But my character might be.

Fuck. I tease Niall for being a twat in love, but then I go and do this. I hate myself, I am a monumental prick. Why the fuck did I fall for my best fucking friend who is as straight as a ruler? Fuck everything, honestly.

"No, H, we can't. Ditched too much this term, sorry. I would, but I want to pass the class, believe it or not." I say, shoving him into a locker as we walk past the rows of them. Nobody uses lockers, anyway. In fact, the only person I know who does is Shyanna, because she dumps random post it notes in there. I haven't been stalking her or anything, but I see her walk towards the lockers a lot and unlock them, so I kind of guessed. To Niall, it would be endearing. To me, it's a bit weird. I've seen the post it notes, and normally they just have tiny notes on them like 'appease' and 'check on A'. 

"Twat." Harry smiles, shoving me unceremoniously into a bin. Well. Rude, much?

"Says you," I say, and it's a weak response, but Harry is a weak guy, and I don't want to make him cry. Every time I do I feel like killing myself, because he should always smile and Christ when did I get so sappy? To be fair, though, I'm nowhere near as bad as Niall, with the thing with Shyanna. She's great, and talented, and gorgeous, of course (Niall tried throttling me when I said I didn't like her shoes, once, so that settles my opinion) but not my type. Because somewhere between Hannah and Eleanor, I realised I didn't like girls. Because somewhere along the way I became a homosexual dick who fell in love with his twat of a best friend. 

"Shut up, moron." Harry says, puckering his lips and dancing away in front of me, a smirk lit in his eyes. Why am I friends with him?

"You are very rude." I retort, chasing after him as he lets out a mad cackle, slowing just outside of the drama room.

"Ready to face the demon?" He asks, and I can't help but think he's standing right in front of me and making my throat close up.

***

We're doing unscripted improv work this term, and it's my most favourite kind of work in drama. We don't have a set schedule to work on, we don't have to work to a certain structure. Freedom in drama is necessary, but no one gets that. Harry does, though, which makes our work a lot more fun. We're only allowed in pairs, and whilst Stan is in the class, he's trying desperately to pull some hair-extension-ed popular girl. Fucking pathetic, honestly.

"Lou?" Harry asks, jumping in front of me and waving a hand fast. Dumb fuck. Why do I love him again?

"Haz?" I retort, sticking my tongue out. He rolls his eyes gently before poking me in the hip. Twat.

"What're we gonna do?"  He asks, and if I were happier with myself, if I could flirt better, I'd retort you, of course. Wanna wreck you. But I'm shit at flirting, so. That's out.

"I dunno, H. It's improv, so it's not like we have to think anything up properly, is it?" I grunt. I'm not in the mood for preparing something. 

"Ugh, God." He grunts, before dropping onto his knees rapidly, and then crossing his legs. My throat closes and my heart goes into overdrive when his face almost touches my thigh. Christ.

I drop down, too, and Harry gives a small grin, tongue lolling out. I sort of just want to suck on it, but he'd probably freak out. 

"Met any guys?" He asks, stretching out like a cat and holding his ankles. I snort softly. Yeah, outside of pining you, Haz, I've totally met a grand total of zero guys. When did I become so pathetic? It's like the one person in my life I could never get is sat right in front of me, out of bounds. My life is pathetic. 

"Nope." I say, leaving a second, "you met any girls?" Please say no, please say no, please say no-.

"Nope. Maybe I'll just marry you when I'm older. You're the only person in the world I can hang out with without having a panic attack." He laughs, as if the idea is preposterous and dumb. As if it could never happen.

Right then, I know exactly how Niall feels. Pining and pining for someone who will never love you in the way you love them, wanting nothing more than to hold them tight and love them hard. I want to love Harry and have him love me back, but the one problem is that he's straight and I'm not, and I hate myself for loving him. He's high up, and I'm too short to reach for him.

Okay this was mostly Larry stuff don't hate me omg. Please vote, comment, follow and stalk as you want <3