Neighbors ☹☻ narry ✔️

xxii. a real anaconda

[ xxii. a real anaconda ]

Harry's smile faded as Niall looked up at him. The look on Niall's face was unreadable, and Harry felt truly nervous. If Niall didn't like it, then what was the point of getting this damn tattoo?

"I'm sorry Niall, I really thought you would like it. I can get it removed?" Harry offered wearily. He knew it would hurt like a bitch to get the tattoo removed, but he was willing to if Niall wanted him too.

Niall on the other hand, was completely speechless. He had been expecting something awful, like a giant banana permantly inked to his forehead. Or something along that line. But the actual tattoos brought spontaneous tears to his eyes.

"Harry, I don't know what to say." Niall admitted, the tears pouring freely down his cheeks. Harry looked down at the silently weeping boy, who seemed to even be genuinely beautiful while he was crying.

"I should have asked you first, but I hadn't really been thinking and-" Suddenly, he felt something warm pressed against his lips.

Another pair of lips.

"You talk too much." Niall said, pulling back. Harry blushed, and looked down at the small tattoos on his arm.

"So, d-do you like them?" Harry asked. Harry looked like an innocent puppy to Niall right now, so even if he didn't like them, he still would have pretended he did for Harry's sake.

But, it was sort of impossible for Niall not to like them.

"I love them Harry. They're perfect." Niall whispered. The small tattoos gracing the outside of Harry's left wrist warmed Niall's insides. It meant the world to know that Harry really did care for him.

"You think?" Harry asked. He turned his wrist around to look at the tiny tattoos. He had gotten three, but they equaled up to one whole one, in a way.

"Harry, they are all perfect. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." Niall sniffled. Harry's small gesture meant a lot more to him than Harry could ever know.

"Which one is your favorite?" Harry asked, extremely pleased with himself.

"I can't pick babe. Hey, how about we go home, and you can tell me the story behind each one?" Niall asked. He knew that the people working here had been waiting an extra 15 minutes for them to leave, and if he were in their place, he would have been pissed.

"Okey-dokey Nialler!" Harry said, grinning. He was still buzzed from the alcohol, but was sober enough to get the jest of everything happening around him.

"Can I hold your hand?" Harry asked, his voice quiet and shy. Niall turned and looked at Harry as if he had suddenly grown three heads.

"You want to hold my hand? Like, no argument, no freaking out, no reason?" Niall asked, rather bewildered. His Harry, or at least the boy who he had come to think of as his Harry, would never ask to hold his hand without some type of reason or repercussion.

"Of course. Isn't that what boyfriends do?" Harry asked. Somehow, somewhere between two shots of vodka and talking to the bartender, his thoughts jumbled into thinking that he was in a fight with his boyfriend Niall.

"Boyfriends?" Niall nearly choked on the air he was inhaling. Ed blinked rapidly between the two as if watching a Wimbledon match.

"We are boyfriends, right Niall?" Harry asked sweetly, cooing at the purple-haired boy. Now Niall was stuck in a shitty situation. He could either deny, and end up with a pissed off Harry, or agree and end up with a clueless Harry who will most likely be pissed off in the morning anyways for being lied to.