Two Roads ≫ l.s

1

Harry's POV:

Dear Diary
I'm tired.

I nibbled the tip of my pen in search for anything else to say. It was only in a situation like this, where I was sat upon my bed with my diary opened up in front of me, I realized just how uninteresting my life was. Nothing really ever happened, anymore. My body was just considered a sleeping, eating, working and songwriting machine, on a constant autopilot.

I stared at the open diary for a few more minutes until my eyes blurred, before shutting it and knocking it onto the floor beside my bed. I didn't really feel like writing much else, anyway.

With a sigh, I flopped onto my bed back-first, staring at the ceiling in the dim light of my half-working fairy lights peppered around my bed.

Although it was only around 6 o'clock in the evening, I was so bored I started to consider sleeping. I had nothing else to really stay awake for. Even my cat, Molly, had stalked off out of my room, probably looking for someone more interesting to spend time with. I didn't go out of my way to see where she'd got to. I knew if I was a cat, I'd wouldn't want to spend time with me either.

I reached out and grabbed my phone and headphones, pushing them into my ears and flicking on any song I could tap on first, trying to shut away the drone of the outside world as I fell asleep. After settling down to the jaunty, unique melody of Ed Sheeran's latest hit, I drifted off into a light slumber.

-

"Harry?!" My mum's voice broke through my unconsciousness, as my eyelids flew open, being met with a darkened room as I realized how many hours I had accidentally slept for.

I heard her footsteps coming closer and closer up to my room, as I shut my eyes in dread, grabbing my pillow and throwing it on my head, as if I managed to curl up enough, she just might not notice I was here.

"Harry, where are yo-" She cut herself off when she opened my bedroom door, and did, in fact, see me looking as pathetic as possible. She gave a pity-filled sigh at her sad, lonely son who, instead of actually socializing on a Saturday, instead locked himself up in his room and managed to bore himself to sleep. Wow. She must be so proud of me.

"What do you want?" I moaned into my pillow, willing her to go away. Out of the many things I did want to do right now, interacting with her was not one of them.

"Zayn called. He's downstairs."
I dug my hands into my pillow, before hesitating. What the hell was Zayn doing here?

"What does he want?" I asked sharply.

"I don't know. He wants to see you about something."

I groaned. "Why did you let him in?!"

"Well, I'm sorry for not slamming the door in his face!" She widened her eyes sarcastically, before gesturing urgently towards the door. "Come on, I don't want to keep him waiting."

"Tell him I've gone out." I dumped my head back on the pillow.

"You tell him!" She retaliated.

"How can I tell him if I'm meant to be out?!" I yelled suddenly, rising my head from the pillow.

"Well, he definitely knows you're in, now!" My mum scoffed. "What's the matter? You two haven't had a fallout, have you?"

"No." I grumbled, not bothering to explain how I was just simply tired and wanted to be left alone. Even then, she wouldn't understand. I reluctantly hauled myself up from out of my bed, making my hair look slightly more presentable and straightening out my jumper which had bunched up during my sleep.