Anti Blue Skies

“You already ate all of it?” I asked while trying my best to suppress a smile, but Niall’s nonchalant expression wasn’t making it easy.

He moved towards the fridge, sticking his head in it until all Harry and I could see was the back pockets of his jeans. “Well sure,” he hummed before pulling out a jug of milk and unscrewing the cap. “I can’t start letting cold food go to waste. That would be an awful habit.”

Harry’s top lip curled up into a snarl. “It wasn’t that cold.”

“Honestly, Harry,” Niall scoffed, sending him a pointed look and chugging a few gulps of milk straight from the bottle. “I was starting to think you got hit by a car or something.”

Harry shook his head, narrowing his eyes. “You do talk quite a lot of shit,” he stated which made Niall shrug.

Their bickering had been going strong since I arrived. Food seemed to be their newest victim, but when Harry and I had walked through the door about an hour ago, he was yelling at Niall for parking in his spot up the drive and threatening to run him over. Maybe I should be thankful Harry decided to live with another boy because I didn’t think I could handle his random spurts of rage.

“For fuck’s sake, Niall!” Harry exclaimed with wide eyes, pointing over to the corner of the kitchen where dirty boots collected a pile of dirt. “How many times do I have to tell you--”

Thinking quick on my feet, I scooted over onto the chair next to him, cutting him off in the process. “How about you show me what you plan on wearing tomorrow?” I asked Niall. “Don’t wear plaid, Manny hates guys in plaid.”

“Just as well,” he shrugged. “Got a bit drunk last week and threw up all over it, anyways.”

Harry shook his head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Go see for yourself, then. It’s in the laundry room,” Niall explained, pointing down the hall. “Haven’t gotten around to washing it.”

Gross, I thought. The shirt must have been crusted and stained by now. Niall had one of those houses where you couldn’t help but wonder what every nook and cranny looked like, but the laundry room wasn’t a place I’d be stepping into any time soon.

Harry leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms and using the edge of the chair to scratch his back. “Better get to it before you bring the bird home with you. Manny is about as girly as they come.”

I had been so strung up in being happy for Manny on landing a date, that I didn’t even think about the obvious. Niall was a boy, a boy whose best friend was Harry Styles, who was a master of using a girl for one night and completely tossing her aside the next morning.

“Not this time, mate. I kinda feel like being a gentleman this time around, you know?” Niall insisted. “Bring her home, walk her to her door, kiss her goodnight. It’s my own version of a cheeky rom-com.”

Harry scoffed, “Look out, Niall, your vagina’s showing.”

Niall pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, throwing the dish towel he had been using to dry his hands, straight at Harry’s head.

I plucked the towel off his shoulder with two fingers, smiling at him, but receiving nothing in return. Niall’s phone rang in his pocket, an old tune from The Who set as his ringtone. “Speaking of me Filipino flower.” He said, holding the phone to his ear and excusing himself out of the kitchen.

“What are you smiling about?”

I hadn’t realized the corners of my mouth were lifted high on my face, feeling the smile lines crease into my cheeks. I was happy for the two of them, like really, truly happy. Manny had always been there for me and through the midst of it all, she never took time to herself. I knew it was only one date, but I had a hunch that it would be the first of many.

“Can’t I be happy for them?”

He rolled his bright green eyes. “No.”

My face fell and I let out a deep exhale of breath. “Well if I can’t, you should be. He’s your best friend.”

“Lydia, I’m not happy a girl is making his heart skip a pathetic beat and I sure as hell am not happy that it’s with her.” His forehead crinkled as his eyebrows wound together. When he stood up and walked into the living room, it took a couple of seconds for me to process it before I tugged down on my sweater and followed behind him. I found him lounging on the couch, his feet already perched on the coffee table and the remote in his hand.

“What’s gotten into you?”

I noticed his jaw tense and instinctively mine did as well as I watched him mindlessly flip through more channels. I guess, maybe I would never understand all the things that set him off, but a part of me wanted to figure them out.

“Harry, you were fine a few minutes ago.”

“No, I haven’t been fine for a long time,” he shook his head, his voice low and gravelly. “...it’s whatever.”

His eyes were glued to the tv screen, but I could see the wheels turning. I crossed my arms, stepping over his long legs to get on the other side of him and plopped down with a swift gust of wind. Once again, he was being a bipolar child on meth, but that was Harry, I suppose. Half of me really wished he’d open up and tell me what happened to him, to tell me why him and Jennifer broke up, even though it was none of my business. Was something going on with Quinn? And why wasn’t he staying in his own flat? I had so many questions, but sometimes it was better to keep it all inside. Now was one of those times.

In the background I could faintly hear Niall laughing at what I assumed was one of Manny’s witty jokes. They were the same in that sense. I wished I could pay attention to the sound of his Irish accent over the repetitive sounds of nothingness as Harry flipped from channel to channel, his mouth set in a straight line and his eyes a blur. After he skimmed through what I could only count as the forty-ninth channel, I decided I had been tortured enough.

“Alright, I see how it is.” I breathed out, getting ready to hurl myself at him.

His face twisted up as he tilted his head up, “What are you--?” Before he could finished I lurched forward, reaching for the remote with outstretched arms and fingers.

He held up the remote just in time for my hand to brush it and miss completely, his other hand trying to hold me back as I plummeted on top of him. “Just give me it, Styles.”

“Why should I?” He tormented, a menacing smile creeping onto his face before he blew chunks of hair out of my face. The pressure of his hand tickling my ribcage.

“Because you just lost your privileges,” I teased through a laugh, still squirming and wiggling over him while he pulled the remote away from me further. He was warm and I liked it, which made me giggle more. “How can you just skip over Doctor Who like it’s nothing?”

“Easily.” He didn’t just say it, I wasn’t positive over my laughs, Niall’s mumbles, and the famous voices from the tv, but I think he laughed it. I loved to hear him laugh because lately, they weren’t easy to come by.

I gave one last stretch, but it was useless. With a huff, I plopped down on his lap and adjusted myself so my head was resting comfortably on his thighs. “You’ve always been a major pain in the arse, Harry.”

“Have I?” I could feel the vibrations of his throaty chuckle. “Some people just never change, I guess.”

“That’s not true,” I smiled. “I think people can change if they have a real reason to.”

Harry shook his head, keeping his eyes on the tv. “You’re wrong. At the end of the day you are who you are and it’s probably who you’ve always been.”

I watched in slow motion as he pulled his feet back onto the coffee table and took a deep breath. It was hard for me to just sit around and watch him feel so lost. I wished I could go back and take back what happened, but the little moments before the big moments were something I held close to my heart and I wondered if Harry did as well.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?”

He sighed and his eyes flickered down at me, melting into my stare, before threading his hand through my hair. “I mean, I think I do. It’s hard not to.”

“Do you think I’ve changed?” I asked, trying my best to hide how worried I was starting to feel.

He shook his head, “You’ve grown, a lot, but I don’t think you’ve changed.” His fingers played with the ends of my hair, relaxing me enough to not feel insulted. “You’re more independent and level-headed than you used to be, and more determined…” his hand grazed my cheek. “…more beautiful.”

“Harry--”

“Looking at you now… if I knew how much I hurt you before, I would’ve never looked you in the eyes again.”

So he could tell how sad I was. That’s never what I wanted, I never wanted him to know how much he truly did break my heart, but since he so appointedly barged back into my life, that seemed to be all I could show him. It was hard to get over someone you had to see everyday.

I sat up slowly, at a loss for words, and feeling a little light headed. He was looking at me expectantly, like he needed answers. I sighed. “You’re right, I’m sad. Seeing you doesn’t make it any easier.”

“I know,” he nodded shamefully. “This isn’t easy for me either, but I know what I want and I want to make it right.”

I didn’t exactly know what he meant by that, but it sounded like a good start to something.

“Okay,” I whispered.

Harry let out a weak smile before clearing his throat. His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but it snapped shut as soon as the loud and boisterous Irish accent pushed through the living room.

“Nineteen years!”

Harry snarled and lifted the remote, “What are you on about now, you imbecile?”

“Nineteen years is how long it took to finally find a woman who can talk not only louder, but faster than I can.” He swept the remote out of Harry’s hand and wedged his way between us on the couch. “It’s a match made in heaven.”

“You’re not going to heaven when you die. They don’t want you.”

“Harry!” I scolded. That was a little harsh, even for him.

Niall laughed and draped an arm over Harry, “I’ll see ya in hell, mate.”

***

I got home around 11:00 that night, with much protest from Niall because he insisted Harry was in a better mood when I was around. It was hard to believe, because I wouldn’t describe the Harry I’m becoming accustomed to as perky and chipper, more like sluggish and miserable, but I gave Niall an ‘A’ for determination.

After the two strangely heartfelt talks with Harry I had today, I was in dire need of a hot shower and two scoops of ice cream to take care of my sugartooth.

“I was starting to wonder when you’d get home.” Quinn called as she sat in the lounger painting her toenails. “I thought you were just taking your sister to that thing or whatever.”

“Sorry, Quinn.” I apologized, toeing out of my shoes and setting my purse on the counter. Was it a good idea to tell her where I was? More like who I was with. “I didn’t know you’d be waiting up.”

“Whatever, I don’t give two shits.” She lifted her foot and blew on her nails quickly.

I entered the living room with two bottles of water in my hand, slumping down on the couch next to her, handing out my arm to offer her one of the bottles. She looked at it like it was growing arms and legs before looking up at me in disgust.

“What do I look like? An elephant?” She scoffed and swatted my hand away. “I don’t drink water.”

“Everyone drinks water, Quinn.” I stated, screwing on the lid after taking a few sips.

“Not me.”

I decided it was best to just shut up. Sometimes, talking to Quinn was like talking to a wall. It made me wonder what drew me to her in the beginning when I first started looking for a roommate.

“So are you gonna tell me where you were?”

“Well,” I swallowed. “After I dropped Lucy off at my dad’s, I went over to Niall’s. He gets kind of lonely in that big house all by himself.”

It wasn’t a lie. Niall did get lonely, well at least I thought he did, but I didn’t mention Harry.

Quinn started applying another coat. “Was Harry there?”

I hesitated for a couple of seconds, “Yes.”

“Are you guys like, dating now or something?”

This time I didn’t hesitate in shaking my head. “No, not at all.”

“It’s okay if you are, you know?” She laughed and it surprised me at how unfamiliar it sounded. “I could never be what he wanted anyways.”

“That’s not true.” I reasoned, she was perfectly capable of being a good match for Harry. Maybe their timing just wasn’t right.

She started screwing the nail polish cap back on, placing both feet on the ground. “Yes it is. I’m not you.”

My eyes went wide and I nearly spit out the water I was trying to swallow. She stood up and unrolled both of her pant legs down to her ankles. She smirked and went for her bedroom, but stopped when she passed me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“But if you ever take my guy away from me again,” she leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I’ll make sure your next period comes out your nose. Got it?”

I nodded, feeling a little warm and she laughed and patted my back.

“Goodnight, bitch!” She shouted, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

I blinked and collected my thoughts before sighing and getting up to finally take the shower I so desperately needed.

While my head hit the pillow, my phone lit up with a text from Harry.

“Are you busy tomorrow?”