kalopsia [harry styles]

7

FALLON COLLINS

"You know, I never really saw myself living in New York"

"You didn't? How come?"

"I didn't. I'd always thought that i'd live in Holmes Chapel my entire life"

"Holmes Chapel?"

"It's a little town in Chesire. It's where I grew up"

I nod, crossing my arms over my chest as I listened to him. The city around us seemed to breathe with life, drunk people walking on their way home, with the occasional stray wandering about. It was about two in the morning, meaning that bars were still open, but there was already people going home, all of them submerged in their own lives. Their own problems.

Sometimes it amazed me how we could pass people on the street and each and every one of them had a life completely different to my own. They had their relationships, their family, their job, their pets, their own issues. Maybe a random person I passed on the street would die later in the day, and I wouldn't even have a clue.

"Why'd you think that?" I ask intently, turning to face Harry.

He shrugs, digging into his pocket and pulling out a stray cigarette, not lighting it as he passed it between his fingers. It seemed to be a recurring thing, the cigarette and him. He seemed to never light it, but he enjoyed having it in his hand. Maybe it was a habit. I made sure to ask him about it later.

"It was just home, I guess. My parents didn't have money, not enough to fuel my dreams anyways" He continues, not looking at me, but rather in front of him as we passed buildings slowly.

"And then why did you come here if you didn't want to be here?" I ask, tilting my head to the side and frowning.

I can see him visibly pause, searching for the right thing to say before he turns to look at me, a tired gaze in his eyes.

"I got the opportunity to start a band with the boys and I took it. We blew up and signed our lives away and ended up here" He explains. He runs a hand through his hair, slightly pulling it at the roots and leaving it disheveled.

I hum in response, now knowing what to say as we neared my apartment. If I would've been sober, the right words would have flowed out of me, but for some reason everything I thought seemed to be mushed together.

I hear Harry audibly sigh, letting out a tired breath that he seemed to have been holding. It seemed to fill the silence between us.

"Am I your friend, Harry?" I finally ask, turning to face him. My hand reaches up to my ear, grabbing it and holding on to it. 

He seems startled by the question, and I guess I was startled by it too.

He scans me for a moment, his dark eyes moving around my face, like he was trying to figure me out. Then he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing up and down before nodding and turning back to look at the street.

"Yeah, I guess you are" He finally admits, and then takes his cigarette and pulls it into his mouth, still not lighting it.

"Well, if it's worth anything, I think you're my friend too" I respond to what he said, and my insides flutter as he offers me a smile, chuckling and shaking his head.

It felt good to have a friend. I hadn't made a friend since Faith died; always closed off and wary of the same thing happening again. I'd been scared for so long to get let down by the people closest to me. somewhere deep inside me I still thought that same... that one way or another people always found a way to betray you and leave. Closing myself off wasn't a way of living though, and I was glad I'd finally realized it.

I smile, content by his answer and then pull up my shoulders in a weak shrug before exhaling and lowering them again.

"I guess i never really saw myself living in New York either" I break the silence, my voice quiet.

This time, it's Harry's turn to ask questions, and I know he has them.

I don't know if I can answer them, though.

"Then why did you? Decide to move to New York, I mean" He asks, his gaze on my own. He walked slowly, not really looking where he was going, and for the second time this week, we found ourselves walking the same streets as before.

"A person close to me passed, and it was sort of her dream. It felt kind of unnatural not to come here" I explain, and I can't help but wince slightly as I talked. For some reason, now that I said it out loud, it sounded stupid.

"I get it." Harry's voice breaks me out of my thoughts.

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again.

"I think what you need is to really experience New York" His hair flops to the side as he looks at me, and I want nothing more than to reach out and touch it, but I restrain myself.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure I've experienced New York" I state, scoffing and turning to him. I felt slightly offended by his words. I'd grown up here, I knew what New York was like. There was no way that he was trying to show me something I'd already seen.

"No, not your New York. My New York. Different versions" He explains, pointing at me, one of his eyebrows rising.

"Yeah?" I tease, smiling at him and rising my eyebrows. "What's my New York like? I'd love to know"

"Your New York is the coffee shop library kind of version. It's like the go to sleep at eight and wake up early in the morning the next day. That's your New York" He rants, looking in front o him and waving his arms around as he explains.

I let out a loud laugh, brushing my hair back as we neared my apartment.

"And what's your New York like?" I ask, my eyebrows rising in defiance at him.

He laughs, running a hand through his own hair. His eyes glimmer with glee, and the edge of his eyes crinkle.

"I don't know, but it's definitely not like yours" He stops abruptly, his eyes going wide as he turns to me.

"I have an idea" His tone is bright, and his accent is more pronounced than ever.

"Yeah?" I ask, intrigued "What is it?"

"How about... I show you my New York. Like, the things I do, the stuff I do for fun" He proposes, his voice slow and steady as he shoots me his dimple showing smile.

I tilt my head to the side, considering his offer for a moment before nodding.

"Fine, I'll let you-" He hollers out into the sky, happily "-but only if I get to show you mine."

He stops mid expression, his smile fading away slightly. He goes to talk, but I put my hand up, shushing him.

"I promise, Harry, it's more than just coffee shops and books"

an; short chapter but it was right to the point ig. next one's gonna get intense so get ready :)