twenty-seven: the little moments

"So... Do you want to talk about it or are you going to pretend like everything's okay?" I ask Harry later the same night, looking at him from my spot on the hotel bed as Harry walks out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist. He'd been quiet ever since we'd gotten to the hotel, refusing to say anything besides announcing that he was going to shower. 

"What's there to talk about?" Harry asks, walking over to his bag to grab out a pair of boxers. He probably wouldn't put much else on despite the fact it was mid-November. Harry was always warm to the touch though, a perfect little heater for those cold winter nights. 

"I just want to make sure you're okay is all... I can't even begin to underst-" 

"You're right, you don't understand and that's why I just don't see the point in talking about it. My parents are dicks, they want nothing to do with me and honestly I think they'd prefer it if I just dropped dead. I don't even know why I bothered telling them." Harry says, his voice steady and his face expressionless as he quickly changes into his boxers. He goes to toss the towel into the bathroom but decides against it as he puts it on the door handle. He refuses to even look at me as he walks to his side of the bed, pulling back to the covers while I continue to just sit there. 

"Because they're your parents... You wanted to include them." I say quietly, biting on my lip as Harry crawls into the bed. He lays down on his back, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as we fall into a silence. I wasn't sure what to say to him, what I could possibly do to make him feel any better... So instead of saying something, I simply laid down beside him. I rest my head against his chest, closing my eyes as I listen to his heart beat. 

"You know... My whole life, I have been nothing but a disappointment for my parents. Everything I've done has done nothing but make them wish I wasn't around, that I wasn't their son... and I hate how much I let it affect me. I hate how after... after all this time, I'm still hoping that somehow... I'll make them proud of me, that I'll finally be that son they've always wanted." Harry whispers, the crack in his voice making me look up at his face instead of admiring the tattoos on his chest. He's got tears in his eyes again, one of them just escaping and slowly making it's way down his cheek.

"There's nothing wrong with who you are, Harry." 

"Then why do I feel so shitty?" Harry asks, the question hanging in the air for a moment because I couldn't think of the answer right off the bat. Harry seems to catch onto that, letting out a shaky sigh before he pulls me close, burying his nose into my hair. 

"I know what I'm about to say won't make you feel any better, or maybe it will... but I think you're amazing, H. I love you and I think that you're the kindest person that I know next to my mother... Your parents don't know what they're missing out on and honestly, that's their loss, not yours. You don't need their approval to be happy. So personally I just think that they should just go fuck themselves." I say quietly, earning a soft chuckle from Harry before he sniffs. He lets go of me so that he can wipe at his eyes, letting out another shaky breath as he sits up a little further in the bed. He rests his head against the headboard, looking down at me as he reaches out a hand to run his fingers through my hair. 

"I love you, Princess... and I wish it was really that simple." 

"Are you saying it isn't?" 

"I'm always going to have that hope, Niall... I'm probably always going to hope that one day my dad will look at me with more than disappointment, but for now... I'll just see it as it is and decide that I will never be like him. I want my kids to grow up knowing that they're loved for who they are no matter what..." Harry says, taking his free hand and resting it against the small baby bump. He rubs his thumb across it, looking down at it with a soft smile. 

"I don't know what my life would be without you, Princess." Harry whispers, not taking his eyes off the bump. 

"I'd like to think it would be pretty damn boring." 

"You sure do keep me on my toes..." 

"You'd also be driving around that damn bike."

"I'm pretty sure the reason why you slept with me was because of that bike." Harry teases, earning a shrug from me as we both grinned like fools. It was moments like these that I missed, when it was just the two of us cuddled up on a bed, teasing each other and simply enjoying each other's company. 

It was moments like these that reminded me how much I loved this green eyed boy with a smile that could light up the whole city if he wanted. 

And it was moments like these that reminded me just how few of them we had nowadays.

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lol the fuck is this shit?

i'm gonna cry cause it's flufffffy as shit. 

but still sad. 

annnnnnnnnnd i've been working on the damn chapter for like four hours but i suck and was working on that story idea i told you all about yesterday.... so far i've got a description and a cover.... so i suppose i'll share that with you cause FUCK I WANNA WRITE IT BUT IDK WHERE TO START AND I'M CRYING VERY HARD ON THE INSIDE.

anyyyyyyyyways, this is the cover:

and this is the description:

"It doesn't matter who broke up with who, alright? In the end, it's about who made the number one hit, who's gonna be played on the radio more, it's about who won the break up and right now, it's not looking too good for you, Baby Doll."

or the one where Harry and Niall are obsessed with writing break up songs about each other

it's gonna be top Niall, but yeah.... if enough people wanna read it, i'll probably write it tbh lol

qotc: WHO WANTS TO FUCKING PARTY? lol jk, i don't have a question cause i'm lame af.

dedication goes to harryxniall18

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connie xx