The Weekend (Narry)

cúig déag

"I got my own back."
Maya Angelou

"How's the floor?"

"Hard." Niall says, and Harry can hear him shuffling around to get comfortable.

"Same."

Niall laughs at Harry's joke, and Harry blushes at the realization of what he just said. He's so used to speaking with friends and people who know him and his humor that sometimes it's difficult to filter the later it gets. "I'm glad I'm down here then."

"Well, it's late. We should probably get some sleep." Harry changes the subject. "Seeing as you signed yourself up for breakfast duty."

"You're welcome, by the way."

Harry sighs. "Thank you."

Niall shuffles around again, and Harry brings his blanket up to his chin. The two of them are quiet for a while, trying to fall asleep. Harry's mind is whirring, wondering about what Niall said at the train station. Harry is certain he loves Louis, he is. But Niall seemed so sure in his words.

"Niall?" Harry whispers. "Niall?"

"What?" Niall whispers back, and Harry can hear him suppress a laugh.

"About what you said earlier..."

"Gonna have to speak up, Sunshine. Can't hear."

Harry groans, sitting up in the bed and meeting Niall's gaze in the dark. "What you said earlier."

"What did I say?"

"About what love sounds like."

"Ah," Niall nods.

"Care to elaborate?" Harry asks, and Niall shrugs, sitting up too.

"You know. Love is supposed to be special and crazy. That kind of love anyway. Marriage love."

"How would you know?"

"Doesn't everybody know?"

"Apparently I don't." Harry mumbles, and Niall huffs. Harry watches the Irishman stand up, grabbing his pillow and the quilt Harry gave him to use, and walking to the right side of the bed. He crawls in next to Harry, leaning back against the wall before he speaks.

"What's wrong?" Niall asks. "I thought you loved Louis."

"I thought so too."

"But you don't?"

"Not by your definition!" Harry whisper-shouts. "Louis and I aren't crazy. We're not spontaneous or super passionate, even. We're just... comfortable."

"Then that's you." Niall says. "Don't take my words as the end all be all of love. Love can be different things for different people."

"But what if I want the spontaneous, crazy love?" Harry has never felt so unsure in himself and in his relationship.

"Then be spontaneous." Niall almost laughs. "It's not that hard. You did just fly to Ireland on a whim."

Harry sighs, giving up and pressing his head to the wall behind him. "And look how that turned out."

"Hey, hey, hey." Niall sits up straighter, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Just because one off-the-cuff decision didn't go well doesn't mean your next one will end badly."

"You think?"

"I do." He nods once, never looking away. Harry falters, he stumbles over his thoughts. Impulsivity is in his blood, but he never lets it show. Back in Boston, people expected things from him. They had their guidelines, and he would follow them. Here in Ireland, he has no rules to adhere to. He can do whatever the hell he feels like doing. "In fact," Niall continues. "I would bet that the next crazy thing you do will change everything for you."

It's funny, how things just work out sometimes. Harry takes it as a sign, and does what he knows he could never do in Boston. Harry kisses him.