Orphans | Larry

16

HARRY POV

Niall touched my shoulder lightly, as if to shake me from the trance that I had allowed myself to slip into.

"Oh right," I shook my head, "Truth or Dare you said?" My eyes traced around the room, looking for anywhere to land other than the blue-eyed boy.

Niall spoke, "Well I mean, that's what we were going to do before you arrived. Unless you don't want to?"

I let out a small laugh, "Since when do I have a say in anything we do?"

The Irish boy placed his arm around me, leading me towards where everybody sat, "You don't, sorry Curly." He ruffled my hair slightly, before taking a seat beside Zayn.

It was a cramped situation to say the least. Niall had all but two sofas and an armchair in his living room, which wasn't a great result on my behalf, considering the majority was already taken up. Sprawled across one sofa was Niall and Zayn, with Perrie and her friend on the other. That left Louis sat on the single seated armchair alone.

"Right then," an amused expression surfaced among my features, "I guess I'll take the floor."

Niall and Zayn gave a brief nod of approval, Perrie and her friend too engrossed in their own conversation to even begin to realise.

I felt a weak grip wrap around my arm, pulling me toward a certain figure.

"Don't be silly." The small voice said. For some particular reason the voice sounded weak, as if it had taken a level of incomparable energy to vocalise.

I turned, our eyes connecting in a way that continuously sent sparks flying throughout my body. The feeling was familiar, comforting, homely, yet I had no idea as to why that was.

The boy snapped his eyes away from mine. Louis edged his way from the middle of the seat and up onto the the arm, in order to allow room for me to sit. He patted the cushion and waited patiently for me to take his place.

"You sure?" I asked referring to where he currently sat, "The arm doesn't look too comfortable. I don't mind sitting on the floor."

"It's fine." He spoke, keeping his gaze trained on the floor beneath him.

"Okay. Thank you." I replied, taking the previously occupied seat. He was close to me, almost too close, and it took every ounce of concentration that I had to keep my gaze averted. With every movement that either of us participated in, my arm would brush against his elevated thigh, causing a warmth to spread through me.

Everybody was busy in their own conversation, not a single person paying any mind to the strangely awkward tension over at our side of the room.

I decided to break it, "Anyways, now that we're in person, and without you being overly worried about coming across as unprofessional in front of my ex, can I ask why you never messaged me?"

He looked briefly over, eyes so bright they could illuminate an entire city, almost fearful, "Ex? Fair enough, not going to ask. And why would I message a stranger?" A level of venom, along with sarcasm, was laced in his words, causing a sharp pang to vibrate throughout my body, for a reason that was unknown to me.

I grabbed his arm, perhaps a little too tightly, "Because it's rude not to."

He struggled against my grip, "Well, I am rude." He replied, matter-of-factly.