Sticks and Stones

A Narry Fanfiction.

Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt me.

After what Harry assumes to be a bad perfomance, he realises that words can hurt. He makes a promise to never hurt someone else with his own words but he breaks this promise and instantly regrets it. He hurts the one he loves and prays that he'll be forgiven but is all hope lost?

RP blog for fic ->

Feel free to drop questions for the Characters


12. Chapter Eleven

The car arrived at 5am to take them to Heathrow Airport.  They were all ready apart from Harry.  He was sleeping like a baby.  Louis was scared to wake him up, unsure of how he’d react.  He knew from experience that it was a bad idea to disturb the younger boy’s beauty sleep.  He ran his hands over his face as he stood at the foot of Harry’s bed, feeling a bit of déjà vu.  He remembered standing in this exact spot when he’d discovered that Harry had washed all of his clothes.  He found Harry’s clothes much more comfortable than his own though, but he’d never tell him that.

Harry chose that moment to stir and sit up, rubbing his eyes, his face pallid.  Another nightmare.  This time he didn’t wake up screaming like he usually did; he just stared through Louis before glancing at the clock.  “Spain.” He mumbled, voice rough and filled with fatigue.  Climbing out of bed, he went over to his wardrobe and grabbed a tight fitting white t-shirt and grey fitting jeans.

Louis realised that the younger boy had lost a lot of weight, his torso a lot thinner, as he watched him in fascination.

Harry glanced at him when he sat down on his bed to slip on a pair of white Converse.  The older boy smiled but he averted his gaze.  Once he had the trainers on, he stood in front of his mirror, shook his curls out twice and combed his long slender fingers through it.

Louis rolled his eyes; some things about this boy would never change.  He waited patiently as the other boy went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

They then grabbed their suitcases and as an afterthought, Harry grabbed a dark blue blazer and slipped it on as they made their way out of the flat, to the car park.

The other boys were already inside the car, waiting. 

Zayn had dozed off with his head on Niall who was eating a red apple.

Liam was sat behind them in one of the back seats, scrolling through his Twitter Timeline and answering questions from some of the fans.  He and Niall both glanced up when the last two band members approached.

Niall caught Harry’s eye for a split second and the younger boy froze, a spasm going through his body before briskly breaking eye contact.

The others didn’t seem to notice and Louis opened the boot to put his and Harry’s suitcases in before climbing in beside Liam.

Harry opted for the front seat, though there was a vacant spot beside Niall.

“About time.”

Louis elbowed Liam.  “Hey, I was ready in like five minutes.”


“…now I’m climbing the walls…!” Louis echoed the radio.

Niall twisted in his seat to scowl at him.  “That’s my bit, I was about to sing that!”  They had been singing all together and agreed to sing their own parts, Liam singing Harry’s for him, but of course Louis wanted to cause some drama so he decided to go against the ‘rules’.

“…but you don’t notice at all, that I’m going…”

The blonde boy glanced at Liam.  “Whack him for me.”

Liam clapped him round the head.

He shrieked. “Ah, my beautiful face!” rubbing his cheek and pouting at Liam.

Liam rolled his eyes, tousling Louis’ bed hair.  The older boy shied away from his touch, still sulking.

Niall decided to sing Louis’ bit just to piss him off and it worked.

Louis moaned at Liam.  “That’s not fair.  How come I can’t sing his bit but he can sing mine?”

Liam chuckled and shook his head.  “I swear you two act like a pair of toddlers.”

Louis folded his arms.  “You’re the one that hit me.” He huffed.

Liam waggled his finger at him.  “That’s because you are a naughty boy and wild things need to be tamed.”

Niall smirked at that and grinned mischievously at Louis.

“But…but…” Louis slumped in his seat defeated, watching cars pass by, through the window, for the rest of the car journey.


On the plane they all fell asleep, all except Harry.  He sat bolt upright in his seat.  Sleep was his enemy.  He was scared to even blink.  The nightmares had recurred every single night for the past week or so and he couldn’t take it anymore.  He tried to keep himself awake as long as he could, binging on caffeine.  Either awake or asleep, the blonde Irish boy was still on his mind.  Dreams and reality began to clash viciously, dreams so lucid that they seemed real and reality so incoherent that it seemed like a dream.  He was too terrified to go anywhere near the boy because just a glance at him triggered a painful memory or a horrific dream, but the line was blurring between memories and dreams from the past.

 His mind kept playing tricks on him and he hated it.  He tried to act like things were okay.  They pretty much were…and he was perfectly sane; he hoped.  Maybe if he kept chanting it to himself, it would be true.  If he believed it, it would be true.  But right now all of this thinking was making his head pound, so he just closed down and shut off all his thoughts completely.  Not thinking anymore.  That was where he found peace, in the calm silence that was nothing.

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