Neighbors ☹☻ narry ✔️

xix. when niall met sally

[ xix. when niall met sally ]

With all of the Liam and Zayn drama, Harry had let his 1975 tickets slip from mind. Of course, Niall hadn't. It had been all he could think about ever since Harry asked him to go.

"Hey Harry, when's the concert?" He asked as they walked home from the hospital later on that week. Liam had been released the night he was admitted, but Zayn had to stay for his surgery and remission. Liam hadn't left the hospital since, promising Niall he was getting sleep even though it was obvious he wasn't.

"January 7th." Harry hummed happily, although Niall's stomach flipped.

"Harold, that's tonight!" Niall shouted, grabbing onto Harry's shoulders.

"Oh, SHIT!" Harry yelled, his pace picking up. He was beginning to panic.

"What time is it?" Harry asked frantically.

"Uhm, 5:47." Niall responded, not sure when the concert was.

"Ok, that's ok. We're good. It's cool. Everything is cool." Harry responded, trying to regain his chill. He was reassuring himself more than he was reassuring Niall at this point.

"What time does it start?" Niall asked, figuring that Harry should have at least mentioned that detail.

"10:00." Harry breathed. Niall relaxed, but his pace didn't slow.

"Isn't it like, a two hour drive from here to Wolverhampton where the concert is?" Niall asked. Harry looked at him with wide eyes.

"You're right! Come on, we gotta run." Harry chided, prodding Niall's back softly. Niall shrugged and picked up his pace to a light jog, which to Harry seemed like a wind sprint.

"I said pick up the pace, not win the fucking Olympics!" Harry called from a good 20 paces behind him. Niall grinned. The good thing about running away, is that you naturally become faster, like your body runs on some adrenaline that you didn't know existed.

"I wanted to be on the track team growing up, but I wasn't really allowed to." Niall's cheeks turned pink at the mention of his past again. He'd already told all he had to tell, and didn't prefer to share any of the equally painful, minor memories.

Harry just nodded, unable to speak from the way his lungs constricted in his lean chest. Harry had never been much of a runner, and never would be. He could lift weights, so he figured that's all he needed to stay fit. The cold air stung his face as the bitter wind whipped through his hair and tensed his muscles. When he looked up, he could see the apartments, and that Niall was already almost there, his legs flying like he was Peter fucking Pan.

Niall didn't feel tired yet. In fact, he felt like he could run all the way back to the hospital at the rate he was going now. Running had always been something Niall excelled in, and he was eager to show it off any chance he got.

"C'MON STYLES!" Niall yelled like a football coach waiting for their last player to finish laps. Harry groaned, but forced himself to speed up until he nearly crashed into a smirking Niall.

"L-Listen h-here y-y-you little s-shit-" Harry stammered, leaning one hand on the building beside him and leaning down to catch his breath. Niall used his teeth to tug at his bottom lip as he crossed his arms.

"Tired?" Niall teased, running a finger down Harry's flexed spine unthinkingly. Harry felt goose bumps rise up at the spot he touched, but ignored them.

"N-ah. Just, haven't, ran in. a. while." Harry said between breaths. Niall rolled his eyes playfully at the brunette's lies.

"Sure Haz, but uh, you might want to hurry up. It's 6:24." Niall warned. He knew that it was expected for someone to be tired after running two blocks, and felt bad for ragging on Harry just because he was a freak and could run for hours without tiring.