Chapter Text
"Please welcome, Harry Edward Styles!" The ref blares, the crowd roaring as a tall, buff, curly headed man hoists himself onto the ring, hair pushed back into a ponytail and brows knotted together as he chewed on his mouth-guard, hands bundled in boxing gloves. He moved his head side to side, neck cracking sending a shiver down his naked spine, his shoulders rolled back, loosening his tense muscles, the cross on his necklace pinched between his lips, his eyes closing for just a second before reopening them and releasing the silver cross, letting it dangle back down between his pecks. The crowd cheered, fists pumping into the air, loud hollers and mixed shouts all focused on him.
He jumped from side to side, the sweat was already beating at his forehead from nervousness, his green eyes wide and shifting from the crowd to the doorways that would reveal his match. He chewed harder at the chewy guard around his teeth, spitting it in and out of his mouth, slurping it back in when the ref's alerting voice echoed throughout the hot and tense room.
"The next opponent is weighing at 170 lbs, please give a loud and proud welcome to SnakeHead!" The ref rumbled and flew his hand out to the other side of the ring, a man that was a little buffer but shorter then Harry came bursting through the large steal doors, flinging himself into the ring, past the spongy wires that acted as a barrier to them both. The man acted like a lunatic, barring his teeth at the crowd in a hiss, banging his gloves together, then moving them to bump repeatedly against his pecks like a wild ape.
Harry couldn't help but chuckle, a deep rumble coming from his chiseled belly as he stared at the man who tried to act scary as he stood on the wires, hands up in the air as the crowd praised him. Harry wasn't into the name calling, he just went with his actual name, simple, but it stood out based on the ignorantly chosen names like this fellow, he thought it was stupid to have such names like that, the boxer's answers to why they picked such interesting vocabulary were because it made them 'more manly sounding' when they came into the fighting match, which, based on Harry's reaction, was not much of an intimidation.
"What ya' laughing at boo? I like your hair, where's the bow? A little too girly for a boxing match eh?" SnakeHead teased, hopping around Harry, but Harry's face was stern and blank, his many years of training taught him not to react to such words spat at him. He just focuses on the fact that the silly man had to look up at him to say those words, Harry just wanted to take his gloves and pound him into the floor like a mole.
"Get in your places!" The ref ordered, the crowd cheering louder as Harry and his opponent shuffled around at either side of the rings. The mix of the riled up crowd and his beating heart was like a tornado in the back of Harry's mind, his left eye twitching as he shifted his fingers inside the boxing gloves.
"Come on Harry!" Gemma screeched from the corner of the ring, holding his water bottle and towel, her hair was also jumbled up into a ponytail, her anxious green eyes locking with his for a second. Harry just gave her a quick nod, moving his gloves up to his face, his feet in a more stable stance as he waited for the bell to ring, the sound that would set him off as quick as a tiger pouncing at its prey, he would say snake, but it seemed little man across from him already got that title.
SnakeHead was growling, letting out girly noises, pretending to flip his hair back over his shoulder, puckering his lips and letting out annoyingly loud kissing noises towards him. The people on his side of the ring letting out loud horse laughs at his teasing, obviously starting to lose interest in him and vote for the little rat.
Harry just smirked and shook his head, straining his ears for only the big red bell above the ring, not for the children in front of him, his mind was only on the game, his eyes were only on his target, and his ears were only for the bell.
It was only a second after he said that when the bell rung, the loud and lasting 'briiiiiiing!' was like a switch turning on, his biceps flexing and face going slack, he immediately flung forward SnakeHead doing the same but was only a second behind him, Harry's fist crunching into the side of his head, making him stumble back, blood slowly seeping from a small cut on his lip.
A jolt in Harry's heart from the blow gave him even more will-power. He moved forward again, not wasting any time as he did an uppercut to the jock-boxer's stomach, making him double over in pain, and in a flash, he was on top of him, hands coming in to lock against his neck, pinning the ignorant and unprofessional psycho to the floor
Three hard pounds against the ring's floor from the ref, Harry was immediately off the man, the ref's hand clasping against his wrist, tugging his hand upwards into the air. The sound of the crowd was just a blur for that few seconds, and now, as he stood amongst the crowd, it came in like a wave of screams.
"And the winner is, Harry Styles!" The ref shouted into the crowd, the hundreds of people below gawking at him. Gemma was screaming in delight, clapping wildly at him, she was wearing a jersey with their last name on the back, her hands coming down to pinch at it and flair it up and down against her chest in pride.
As soon as the ref let go of his hand, he walked to Gemma, his sister clapping a hand to his back and squirting some water in his face, washing off the sweat that now poured down his forehead. He grabbed the towel from her hands, bringing it up to wipe down the water that soaked his skin. "How about a celebration after that huh? You deserve it after that ultimate humiliation." Gemma bursted, hands flying up to smack playfully at his cheeks.
Harry took a short glance over at SnakeHead who was flaming at his corner, eyes barring into his back until they locked gazes, his body stiffening and chest puffing out. "Your dead Styles, I want a fucking rematch you dick!" He roared but Gemma was already tugging him out of the ring, squeezing him out between the wires and jumping down onto the concrete flooring. "What did I tell you?" Gemma questioned angrily, giving him frustratedly raised brows at him as she looked over her shoulder. "Don't make eye contact after the fight, you'll just get yourself into more shit." Gemma reminded him with a shake of her head, her silky blonde locks flowing over her shoulder. She gave his wrist a slight squeeze, a gesture of 'it's okay, just don't do it next time,' as they turned a corner into the hallway that swerved into their dressing room.
Harry could still hear the yells from SnakeHead, loud and raged, he could just imagine the small broad-shouldered man fighting against the security. Harry was the worst after and before fights, before he would go out into the ring, his mind would be everywhere, picking at the gauze that Gemma would wrap tightly and protectively over his knuckles, he wouldn't stop practising, Gemma even told people that they meet after the show, unless the person wanted a fist to the throat, his practising being him just flying his fists at the air, uppercutting and pretending to duck, his green eyes blazing with determination, and throughout the whole time, his cross necklace would be placed softly between his lips, and Gemma once told him that she personally thought he was quite scary. But his mind after the fight was not set on pummelling his opponent or flying his fists at open air, no, his mind would be focused on what was going to come out from him almost punching that guys lights out, was he going to have to look over his shoulder when he partied? Was this dude actually psychotic? He was just a lump, wanting to sit down and stare into the wall for hours.
"Hey, get dressed, your fellow boxers are waiting for you outside. And they are getting all riled up." Gemma teased, giving him a small punch to his rock hard bicep before heading out, cheers booming into the room once she opened the door.
"-Totally owned him!" Liam's voice overlapped others making Harry smirk, a wash of silence taking over the atmosphere when Gemma closed the door. He stood in the middle of the room for a while, just stared at the door to the room, he knew he couldn't stare into walls for hours as he would have liked to, but he could at least stare at a door for a minute. He blinked and then rolled his neck, hearing a relieving pop come from his spine. He took his gloves off, setting them into his nike backpack, then his basketball shorts leaving him only in his briefs. He turned towards the body mirror leaning against the wall of the room, his hands coming to graze over the yellowing bruises that scattered his chest, arms, and one right on his jawline. They were like souvenirs, every show, every country, a small map of all the people he's met and places he's been, a weirdly memorizing sight for him. He let out a huff, moving his hands down at his sides to stare just one more second longer at his inked and bruised chest before turning back around to focus on getting changed.
He put on a black buttoned down shirt, hands buttoning it up slightly, letting his built pecks show, a yellowing bruise peeking out from his right side, his cross necklace dangling and shinning in the light. He then put on some black skinny jeans that had rips at the knees, the small ripples in the denim showing how truthfully tight they were, reminding him that Gemma always scolded him for wearing those, saying they were too girly for a slowly rising-to-fame boxer like him. He tugged the elastic out of his hair, wincing when it got tangled in his wild curls, deciding to just flatten his his hair with his hands. He looked into the mirror, fixing his bangs so they were swerved to the side of his face, he stared at his face, focusing on his eyes that were still wide from the fight, his body buzzing with victory.
"You coming Harold? The sweat smell is starting to get to me!" Gemma informed goofily from behind the door, her voice barely heard over the crowd of equally buzzing men. "Coming!" He answered, stuffing his water bottle and towel in the bag with his gloves, gauze and shorts, setting the elastic band for his hair on his wrist. He then hoisted the bag onto his shoulders and walked out to greet his friends and fairly annoyed sister.
As soon as he opened the door, a roar of cheers and congratulations flew in his face, making his fist stiffen against the knob. But the pat to his shoulder brought him back into his dimpled smile, turning his head to greet Liam, a fellow boxer of his.
Liam had a cut on his brow from a fight a few days back, his brown eyes shinning in delight, he was shouting how proud he was in Harry's ears making him shiver. "Thanks mate!" Harry yelled back, feeling another pair of hands come in contact with him making him look up surprised, Zayn, another fellow boxer and also Liam's and his best friend, was smiling up at him and patting at his chest, the cool feeling of Zayn's fingertips coming in contact with his still sweaty skin made him realize he wanted a cold shower when he got home. "Good job out there tonight mate, totally owned that weasel!" Zayn joked making Harry chuckle and shake his head, bringing a large hand down to Zayn's boney shoulder to pat. Zayn was a lot smaller and bonier then Harry and Liam, which was troubling when it came to people voting who would win, but Zayn's fights were always fun to watch, to just see the peoples faces when Zayn would pin the much larger man to the ground, it never failed to bring a smile to his face. Liam being the total opposite, the crowd always going for him, the big, furry bear that would step foot on the ring with pulsing biceps and a sharp jawline. Which meant, Liam was a professional, an honour to be around.
"Louis' waiting outside, he wanted to watch the dude freak out after you left." Zayn said when Harry was finished thanking everyone who came by his dressing room, Gemma tugging his backpack off to put over her shoulders as she followed close behind.
"I swear, that lad enjoys humiliation more then a good fight any day." Liam grumbled from beside him. Harry let out a chuckle, seeing Louis at the corner of the ring, sitting with his back facing them scrolling through his phone, the show obviously ending too soon for him. "He's a cheeky bastard, he can't be at work, so he needs to be extra harsh when he's at the ring," Harry explained, making Zayn and Liam chuckle lightly.
"Hey, Tommo, we're going to the bar, are you going to sit there like a lump or come and join us?!" Liam shouted, Louis flinching and then turning around, a goofy smile coming across his face once he saw Harry. He leapt off the ring and rushed over, stopping in front of Harry in a boxing stance, fists up in front of his face, one coming up to playfully punch at Harry's chest making him grunt. "Nice job out there, real arse you were. That smirk you had on your face made it hard for me not to laugh, people were looking at me weird, what a right douche that dude was aye?" Louis spat out all at once making Zayn come up to tug Louis into a headlock and pull him along to the exit of the small underground auditorium. Liam shook his head but smirked in amusement. "That dude was a douche." He agreed and then followed Louis and Zayn out the doors, Harry waiting for Gemma who was now holding her breath from the smell.
"Meet you there Styles!" Liam called out as he got into their fancy car, Louis at the wheel and Zayn in the back, the roof down onto the trunk. Harry nodded, walking off with Gemma to their van that was definitely not as fancy or expensive, something they didn't really care about at the moment, even though the van was barely able to stand on four wheels anymore. Gemma and Zayn had spray painted the sides of it, funny faces and cool graffiti words covering the back doors. It was a real gangster van, or what Harry liked to call it, junk van, like they bought it straight from the dump.
He watched as Louis sped off, burning the rubber in the tires as it screeched against the concrete, the posh-looking car zooming onto the streets. Harry let out a moan in embarrassment when Gemma started up the hunk of junk, the rough vibration and abrupt popping sound as it started made Harry cringe and glare out the window. "Oh, don't be sour, soon enough, if you keep this boxing shit up and if I can keep a job for more then a week, then maybe we'll get a car like that." Gemma assured, patting at his knee before the van finally jolted forwards.
The van trailed slowly down the busy evening traffic of London, Harry's eyes glued to the outside world, cheek smushed against his fist with his elbow leaned against the car door. He was thinking to hard, about the foolish man, how his whole body was addicted to the crunch against his knuckles or the feeling of him crunching against other boxers knuckles. It was a weird habit, but he had a reason to fight, just like any bully. But he didn't want to hit innocent people who had nothing wrong but to just be in the wrong place at the wrong time, no, he wanted to fight people who had the same addiction as he did. He knew not all boxer's had pasts like him, probably most did it because they were just good or had that as a hobby. But he was always a unique child, so staying unique wasn't a surprise to himself, or Gemma who had to live with watching him grow to be a strong but broken man. His parents were not the nicest bunch, his mother screwing over his father by drugging herself everyday, her room smelling like marijuana and her bedside table always dusted with a thin layer of white from cocaine. And he grew up with his parents bickering or sometimes even screaming at each other, he lived in his sisters room most of the time, hiding behind her back and whimpering between her shoulder blades. He wasn't the strong one, Gemma was, she took the punishments for him, she got the harsh smacks to the cheek, she had to cover herself up when they went to school. But when their mother died, which was when he was fourteen, Harry immediately changed, the burnt out lightbulb in his mind coming to life in full throttle. Their father becoming a drunk, an abusive man with depression and deep dark rage, the blue eyes he had were now dulled and shadowed into a black hole of darkness. And when his father first hit Gemma, smacked her hard against the cheek, making her head whip to the side, a cry leaving her lips, Harry immediately went into action, cursing his father off, shoving a stiff finger into his fathers chest.
And that set him off, and then, from that day forward, Gemma was nothing but the cries in the background as he got beaten to a pulp.
It has been three years since then, their father was locked up in jail for good, charges going from the worst, being child abuse, and then to drunk driving and alcohol abuse, even stealing from liquor stores. His father was nothing but a past obstacle in Harry's mind, a big one at that, which he had to face everyday. He enjoyed the beatings because he felt powerful and proud after, looking at his sister who was crying, but with healing bruises instead of new welts. It made him smile, and that happiness became a job, which is now an addiction, aka, boxing.
"Harry, god did you pass out or something? We're here." Gemma said, slapping at his knee before getting out of the van, the door creaking loudly and then shutting. He slowly got out of the van, his mind still a blur after getting those daily flashbacks, he felt like he was asleep for days after getting those, awaken from almost dying. And now that he had rubbed out that blackening stain in his heart, he was ready to party and forget the night, forget the past, celebrate him and his success.
But he knew by tomorrow, the stain would be back again, permanent and darker.
He wasn't drunk, but Gemma sure was, after just ten minutes in the bar, his sister was cackling stupidly at one of Louis' jokes, which, he had told three minutes ago. Liam and Zayn were playing pool, both with competitive and focused expressions on their faces, beers placed on the sides of the table. "I think your sister is going to need a lift home tonight." Louis said, with a chuckle, slowly taking the keys from her grip and sliding them across the table for Harry to grab and settle in his pocket. Louis flinched when Gemma flopped forward across the table to slam her hands against his arms that were settled on the table top, making his beer slightly spill out of the glass. "Gem's, calm down, no more beers tonight." Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes when Gemma made whining noises and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. "I'm not drunk Harreh, Louis' joke was just so funny," and Gemma barely finished her sentence before she was off in another giggle fit, flying her head off Harry's shoulder to fling it back against the booth seats.
Harry saw an escape, seeing Zayn and Liam walking out of the bar with smoke packs in hand, a sigh leaving his lips as he quickly got up. "Watch her, and make sure she doesn't buy anymore beers." Harry demanded, Louis holding his hands up in surrender, giving him a small nod in reassurance.
Harry walked out onto the London sidewalk, the cold blistering his cheeks into a rosy red. He sniffled, the smell of cigarettes coming from beside him made him slowly walk over, two figures who had to be his two mates stood beside the bar, talking quietly.
"Hey Styles!" Zayn yelled, his voice muffled by the cancer stick in his mouth. "Your sis' is pretty far gone now." Liam said with a chuckle once he came into view, he leaned against the brick wall, nodding with a small smile. "Yeah, I hate bringing her to bars sometimes, it never really goes well, you know, I don't want her ending up like-"
"No need to explain Haz, we understand" Liam said, patting at his shoulder sympathetically, Zayn nodding in agreement. Harry gave them a tight smile, nodding his head and scratching at his bruise on his jawline making him wince.
"Nasty one that one is aye? Sucks when it's right on the bone, I'm lucky this week, just got a few on me arms." Zayn said, changing the subject immediately to boxing, another thing Harry liked, they didn't mourn long. Zayn pulled up the sleeves on his arms, showing purples bruises overlapping the ink that scattered his skin. "Don't really show either, another bonus." Zayn said and Liam scoffed playfully, slapping at Zayn's tanned arms making him hiss in pain.
"Oi, it still hurts!" Zayn scolded and put the sleeves back down with a glare. "You guys haven't dealt with broken limbs before, just wait till you get to professional boxing, you'll be able to say you've broken every bone in your body." Liam said, which, Harry didn't know if he was bragging to them or warning them.
"Have you?" Zayn shot back, giving Liam a annoyed raised brow. "Close enough to not have enough fingers to count." Liam said, making Zayn shift his gaze to the floor with a frown. "Well, that's the beauty of boxing isn't it?" Harry chimed in with a smile, but Zayn seemed to lose interest in that conversation, shifting again to love lives.
"How's Sophia Li?" Zayn asked, Liam immediately lighting up. "Doing just fine, working in the fashion industry, I swear she's going to be the next Gucci inventor." Liam says proudly making Zayn chuckle and nod. "Haven't found anyone yet, but I'm still looking." Zayn said, giving them both a smile. "I want the perfect girl." He said dreamily, throwing his hands up in the air like a rainbow. Liam chuckled and nodded, patting Zayn on the back reassuringly. "You'll find the one soon mate." "What about you Harold, got a bloke yet?" Liam questioned, and Harry didn't see it coming, looking up at them like a deer in the headlights before answering with a simple, "no."
It was another perk at being a boxer, he felt free to tell anyone about anything, because if they talked shit about him, he was able to pound them into the floor. And people were just plan worried to say shit in the first place. He had come out to the world when he was fifteen, the world meaning his family and school, another sad part to his childhood, being called harsh words and bullied at school daily. But now, he had friends that cared, and Gemma, who cared from the start. They would always joke with him, asking if that one guy was cute or ugly, Gemma being the worst since she had the same gender taste, literally scolding him if he didn't think a certain guy was hot. So, times like these when they asked if he found a man, wasn't awkward or made his heart skip a beat. "Well, same goes to you, you'll find the one soon enough." Liam said, giving him the same gesture he did to Zayn.
"Let's go inside now, I'm getting frozen." Liam said, Zayn already walking to the door. "I'll be right in." Harry said, giving Liam a small nod before he closed the door.
And now Harry was alone, standing out in the middle of the sidewalk, staring up at the sky. Something he didn't do often, but tonight, well, was like every other night, but different in his head, something felt different, like he did something huge and memorable, when really, he just showed off a crowd of a hundred or more people.
Suddenly, someone had slammed into him, hard and fast, making him stumble sideways and fall on his arse. A gasp and the sound of skin slapping again concrete coming from beside him. "I'm so sorry, dear god, I'm so stupid." A boys voice gushed. Harry blinked rapidly, rubbing at his soar side before slowly getting up, his eyes locking at the sidewalk where the boy was still scrambling to grab his huge backpack, stuffed to the brim with things.
Harry immediately went into action, flinging his hands out to slowly help the boy up, a spark flying through his body when he held the boys hand and hoisted him up. "Again, I'm so sorry-"
"It's fine." Harry assured, flickering his eyes around the boys face who didn't dare look up at him. "You okay?" He asked, raising a brow when the boy's bangs fell over his blushed face. "I-I'm fine, I'm sorry, I need to get home." He said and then started walking again, but Harry noticed the bag that he could barely hold up over his shoulder, it was large, like a hockey bag, and the boy didn't seem dressed for a cold evening night like tonight, the only thing decent that he was wearing was a way too large jean jacket that looked to have a wool layer under it, but it didn't do much for his skeletal legs, him wearing tights and ballerina shoes with the strings tucked into the sides. And now that he was staring at those slim legs, he noticed just how much they were shaking from the freezing wind.
"You don't have a car?" Harry called and the boy stopped, not turning around, but just staring down at his dance shoes. "Uhm, n-no, but I can walk." He stuttered but Harry was already making plans, locking eyes with Liam in the bar, making a gesture to Gemma, mouthing 'watch her' and Liam giving him a nod that he understood. "Come on, I'll drive-" He said once he turned back around towards the quivering beauty.
"No, just, no, I don't know you sir and I'm not really up for a fight tonight." He said with a sigh, and it sounded like he's done this plenty of times before, trying to urge a man off who was trying to drive him home. A surge of anger flowed through Harry's body, making his eyebrows furrow together.
"Well, I can assure you, I am not going to hurt you. My names Harry Edward Styles." He said, giving the boy his full name. Harry just wanted to see that boys whole face, to be swept away by the beauty that hide behind the curtain of blond. But then, the boy slowly looked up, his head was shaking from the cold, cheeks ruby red and nose running, but those blue eyes that Harry met with made his heart stop, those were electrifying, and he was happy he didn't see those during the fight, or else they would have totally thrown himself off. Harry let out a sigh, a cloud of steam puffing into the air in front of him, he has never felt so in love, so struck by just staring at someone for a few seconds.
"Niall Horan, and I don't like violence, I have my best friend on speed dial and she will call the cops." Niall, the beautiful boy, threatened. Harry's heart skipping a beat at the 'I don't like violence,' but he nodded immediately, not wanting to stall the wonder boy in front of him, giving him a smile that was hopefully assuring before opening the shit van, cringing when it creaked and groaned. Niall chuckled, trying to hide a small smile by wiping at his nose, walking past him to climb into the van, it shifting under his weight as he sat down.
Harry closed the door, flinching when it banged a little too loudly in the silent night. He groped for the keys in his jean pocket and then pulled them out, rushing around the other side to get into the truck and start it immediately, being sure to turn on the heat for the beautiful Niall Horan's needs.
"Mm, thank you." Niall hummed, closing his eyes for a second and lying back, a small smile on his face as he cuddled into the seat. "What's your address?" Harry asked, waiting a few seconds, seeing Niall slowly open his eyes again, bags already forming under them. "Uhm, 22 Newburry St." He mumbled and then immediately shut his eyes again. Harry frowned, that was the street where he practised boxing, a nasty place with garbage floating around the streets and packing into the gutters. Homeless people in the alleyways picking at the garbage cans. And then the thugs and gangs that always hung out there, buying tickets to fights or practising fighting on the streets, beating people to pulps some nights, a nasty thing called 'street fighting.'
He shook his head but slowly pulled out into the road, it now empty and illuminated by the street lights that lined the sidewalks. The car rumbled and made weird clicking sounds, but Niall seemed totally unaware, still sitting with the large bag on his lap, hands placed neatly overtop of it, eyes closed in bliss. And that was all Harry really cared about, so, he looked back to the road and went back to the auditorium were his fight was, gloomy and abandoned looking townhouses were on the other side of the street, dead plants outside of every house, windows either duck-taped or had garbage bags over the windows. And it was kind of hard to find the house numbers when most were fallen off or rusted over so badly you could barely see them, let alone it being night time.
He was about to pull over and go out alone to look, but then saw shouts and drunk laughter coming from down the sidewalk, his head slightly peeking out to see a large and ugly looking gang stumbling down the street, just waiting for a boy like Niall to pummel.
And that's when Harry decided that Niall wasn't going to sleep there tonight, his apartment was ten times better, and farther away from this madness.
"How about my pl-" but when he looked over, he could just tell Niall was sound asleep, arms limp against the bag, mouth slightly hung opened. His soft blond locks scrunched against the car seat as he laid his head back. It was a beautiful sight, and Harry had to strain himself from petting those fuzzy strands.
He took a u-turn and drove to his apartment, his mind scrambled from the night that had just taken place, fighting off a mole rat boxer, then bumping into a stunning young man. It was so fast and overwhelming, Harry would have to stop and just stare at another wall, reevaluate that he actually brought a man home, a majestic one at that, perfect for him. But what Niall said kept haunting him at the back of his mind, 'I don't like violence' of course, no one did, but Harry did, he liked the feeling both ways, so really, there was no point in falling in love if he was just going to be disappointed in the end.
But he wasn't going to leave the boy, no, he'll do a good deed for the night.
A few minutes later and he's parked in the parking garage, Niall's head moving from the car seat to the window, his breath fogging up the glass. And once the van was finally shut off, taking a while as it clicked and clunked, Harry was shutting his door and rushing to the other side to pick Niall up, flipping the bag over his shoulder before carrying Niall in his arms.
Harry had almost ran into the walls about five times, his eyes locked down at Niall's pale face, all calm and peaceful, something different to stressed and sceptical when Harry first bumped into him. "Your very beautiful." Harry mumbled, knowing that Niall was still dead asleep, no flutter of the eyelids. He shuffled around till he had the bag on the floor, Niall's body loosely wrapped around him like a koala, Harry's hand awkwardly placed on the blond's bum as he scavenged for his keys in his pocket, hearing the clinking of them and pulling them out, wincing when Niall let out a soft mewl and buried his face into his neck. Harry couldn't help but coo and stare at the blond's face once again, this time, his lips twitching in the urge to lean in and kiss those soft and pink lips that were just inches from his jawline.
The door finally opened after the struggle of placing the key in the slot, it creaking opened and slightly hitting the wall. Picking the bag up and slightly shifting Niall in his embrace, he softly walked into his apartment, placing the bag neatly on the front halls bench and then walking down the hallway and into his room, where, Niall could stay for the night.
"Goodnight." Harry whispered, slowly setting Niall down on the bed, shuffling the covers down and then up to tuck the petite blond in. Niall didn't answer, but a small smile evolved on his barely illuminated face. Then, he shifted onto his side and settled a hand on the pillow, shielding Harry from seeing his face. Harry didn't even realize he was was staring for so long until his phone rung in his pocket, making him jump and rush out, closing the door behind him.
He rushed down the hallway till he was in the living room, boxes of pizza from the night before scattered around the coffee table, obviously showing that he nor Gemma were neat people.
"Hello?" Harry answered the phone, pressing the speaker to his ear, his voice was barely above a whisper, desperately trying not to wake the obviously exhausted boy.
"Harry? God, I called you about three times, where are you? You better not be fucking that little bloke that I saw jump into your van!" Zayn scolded, Liam and Louis' voices in the background, sounding like they were coxing an even drunker sounding Gemma out of the bar.
"Fuck, did Louis not watch her? She sounds even more wasted!" Harry grumbled, ignoring Zayn's frantic questions. Zayn let out a sigh, giving Liam and Louis a demand to let her sit down on the curb. The scuffle of the phone moving and then Zayn's voice finally answering him.
"No, she's just getting into that 'why did I drink so much, I'm going to be so hung over tomorrow' faze." And Harry rolled his eyes, sitting down on the couch and scratching at his scalp.
"Can you guys drop her off? I didn't fuck the lad, he was just walking alone and looked scared out of his mind so I offered to drop him off, but hell, he was already passed out as soon as he hit the car seat, and his place was swarming with gang members, I'd rather not have the fun of beating up more guys." Harry explained and Zayn let out a frustrated sigh from the other line, and Harry was about to plead again when Zayn interrupted him.
"Why are you such a nice lad, but so ruthless at the same time?" Zayn asked, making Harry chuckle and shrug, knowing Zayn wouldn't have known he did that. "Okay, fine, but I'm asking the bartender for some paper bags, I do not want her vomiting over Liam's seats." Zayn grumbled and Harry thanked him, hanging up right after Zayn un-amusingly said goodbye.
He set his phone down beside one of the many pizza boxes scattered on the table and then leaned back against the couch, one part of the day, that may only last a few minutes before Zayn, Liam and Louis come stumbling in with Gemma half hung over their shoulders, to just think and let his mind flashback to the most memorable events, also, think about how the hell did he get blessed with such beauty? But Niall would never want to date him, a secretly psycho boxer who is addicted to making pain and feeling pain, who also has a horrible and abusive past that was somewhat weird and confusing. Niall was all beauty and porcelain, breakable and elegant, then there's Harry, already broken, as hard and as boring as a rock, and has no sense of handsomeness or beauty inside or out.
Why couldn't he have just shoved his thoughts away and follow his mates back into the bar? Or just simply stay leaned against the building, ignore the petite boy walking hesitantly along the sidewalk?
But it seems, his whole life has been nothing but bad choices or being in the wrong place at the wrong time.