Room 22A [Narry]

Chapter 44.

It’s been five days since Niall left. Five long days. Harry tries to call him when he can but it ends up going to voicemail, so he calls Maura instead. Maura doesn’t say much, but she keeps him up to date as much as possible. Niall never talks to Harry and he’s barely ever there when Harry phones the house. Maura says he spends most of his time with Greg, going out with his family and he only ever comes home for injections and dinner.

Harry tries to get on with the days. He goes to the gym, spends time with Louis and often goes to Holmes Chapel. He occasionally checks up on Niall’s flat although he doesn’t really know what he’s looking for. Harry spills the beans to Louis about what happens and thankfully, he doesn’t press. He doesn’t call Harry a dick like he deserves, he doesn’t pester him with annoying questions. Louis understands. They’re going through a rough patch, just like any other relationship. He knows they’ll sort it out.

One time, at the end of Harry’s English class, Harry brings Liam forward. “Has he spoken to you or Zayn?” Harry had asked curiously, to which Liam replied, “He just keeps telling me that’s everything’s fine.” He shrugs and then walks off. Fine. Saying that something was fine was one of the biggest lies in history of lying and that was a fact and knowing Niall, he was too stubborn to tell the truth, even to his best friends. 

That evening, Harry finds himself at the gym. It’s been a while since he’s been here, what with all the running around after Niall so it was kind of good for a distraction. He stuck to his usual weight lifting and boxing exercises. When he gets to his boxing, he takes all his anger out on the punch bag. He throws rapid punches, again and again, when he spots Liam and Zayn at the treadmills. He ignores them and continues to punch; his face damp with sweat and his muscles sore.

He sighs a little as Zayn and Liam make their way over to him as they’ve spotted him. Zayn nudges Liam hesitantly and Liam clears his throat awkwardly.

“How…how are you?” he asks carefully and Harry couldn’t help smirking.

“You don’t have to be so self-cautious around me just because Niall’s not here,” Harry assures them. Their shoulders relax a little bit and Liam lets out a shaky laugh.

“Well, you do look a bit intimidating.” Liam defends and Harry smirks again.

“Just because I’m behind a punch bag and wearing boxing gloves?” Harry teased and both Liam and Zayn blush.

“You’re a lot less intimidating when you’re around Niall.” Liam admits and Harry raises his eyebrow. Harry thought Liam was joking, but he wasn’t.

“Yeah, he brings out the best of you.” Zayn chirps in agreement. It’s the first Zayn’s spoken to Harry since he found out that Niall was pregnant and quite frankly, Harry was alarmed.

“Niall brings out the best in all of us.” Harry reasons, swinging a punch at the bag.

“Touché.” Zayn replies and they all fall into a comfortable silence. Harry’s rested himself against the punch bag, holding it tightly. He doesn’t really care that it’s glistening with old-man sweat. He can shower later.

The following weekend, Harry heads to Holmes Chapel. He doesn’t bother announcing himself because his family knows he’ll be there. Like he has been going there for the past five days. Like Louis, they didn’t bother to question him. They let him get on with his life although Harry knew his mother was dying to talk to him. He wasn’t ready to talk to yet, though. He couldn’t. If he did, he’d break down and cry like a pathetic teenage girl who’s just been dumped by her first boyfriend. Except, only, this was a lot worse. There was an empty hole in his heart, where Niall should be. It’d been there for days – five days to be exact. Niall had broken Harry’s heart when he turned him down after saying how much he loved him. But he guessed that he needed it – it was karma after what he said about the baby. He deserved it.

Harry heads straight to the garage and gets to work. In the garage, it smells of sawdust and oil and fresh grass from the lawnmower. There’s a few old, worn out bikes and scooters that Harry and Gemma used to ride on during their childhood sitting here and there. An old garden play set sat at the back which Anne had pestered Des to get rid of for months but he’d never managed to do so.

Sighing, he sits on an old wooden stool and takes a strip of new Clear Pine wood in his hands that lay on the desk. Over the past few days, he’d been working on something – a baby crib. Right now, he was half way there. Once he was finished with it, he wanted to paint it white. Clearing his throat, he tossed the wood aside and goes to the half-finished coat. The edges and corners were smooth, the surface of the wood clean and soft. It was perfect, almost. Harry shuffles around the desk, brushing past the cot and starts to measure a new length of wood with a ruler and a pencil. It was something he was working on that he hadn’t bothered telling his mother or sister – because it wasn’t something he wanted to share with anybody, just yet.

Dropping the pencil, he fetches for his phone and dials the all too familiar number he’s learned off by heart. “How is he?” Harry asks firstly, when he hears Maura say hello to him.

“Oh, you know. Stubborn, as always. Even more crabby as well, if that’s possible.” Maura shrugs at the other end of the line and Harry lets out a soft chuckle. That sounds like his Niall. There’s some shuffling at the other end of the line.

“If that’s Harry, tell him he can fuck off.”

“Niall!” Maura scolds back at her son. Harry could tell it was Niall. His accent seemed to have become thicker, with the amount of time he’d spent in Ireland but he’d heard him. Loud and clear.

“I’m really sorry about that, dear.” Maura sighs but Harry shakes his head.

“It’s okay.” Harry assures her because it is. Niall could curse and swear at him all he wanted, insult him in any way he could and it’d be Harry’s pleasure. After all, Harry was the reason Niall was in Ireland in the first place. After promising to keep him updated again, Maura hangs up. Harry exhales deeply and sits on the edge of the stool, his shoulders slouched as he plays about with the phone in his hands. Anne steps in the doorway of the garage, a mug of tea in her hands. She had heard the conversation, without Harry being aware.

“Niall still not talking to you, then?” Anne asks, although it’s more of a statement than anything. Harry looks up, startled. His mother had her hair tied up in a messy fashion, dressed in a shawl and slippers. Harry shakes his and manages a weak smile. Anne moves forward into the garage. She hands Harry the cup of tea and rests herself against the desk behind Harry, close to her son.

“He’ll come round. You’ll see.” Anne pledges, rubbing his back in a comforting manner. Harry doesn’t say anything but only nods and smiles when she kisses him on the cheek. She glances at the half-finished cot and leaves her son to it. Maybe Harry just wanted to be alone after all.

Back in Ireland, Maura turns to glare at her son. “Did you have to be so rude?” she fumes, placing the phone back down in its place. Niall shrugs indolently, tautly playing with his lower lip. “All Harry does is care about you.” Maura snaps. Niall ignores her, smoothing down his crumpled sweater self-cautiously as he sat on the sofa. Maura tsk’ed and clicked her tongue, leaving her son too it. Both Niall and Harry were complicated when it came to a rough patch with them. But they’d sort it out when they came to it. They always did. 

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Sorry it's short. Tried to update as fast as I could, didn't want to leave you all hanging. Let me know what you think, much love xxx