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 -> http://sticksandstonesrp.tumblr.com/

Feel free to drop questions for the Characters

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8. Chapter Seven

 

Harry suddenly became aware of his surroundings, or the lack of, rather.  It was as though he had a pure white blindfold over his eyes.  When he lifted a hand in an attempt to pull it away, it felt as though he were underwater, the atmosphere denser than usual and slowing down his actions.

He spun ‘round blindly, flailing his arms and tearing away at nothing.  Then something caught his eye and he froze, before slowly turning on the balls of his feet to face the distant figure.  It was like looking through the lens of an unfocused camera.  Then his eyes adjusted and he could make out the dyed blonde hair and those startlingly bright blue eyes.

He cupped his hands over his mouth and hollered.  “Niall!”

The blonde Irish boy didn’t seem to hear him.

He called again.  “Niall!”

The boy was looking right at him, his face contorted in a confused expression.  He slowly stepped closer and Harry inhaled thickly.  A few yards away, he stopped, eyes searching the younger boy’s face.

Harry spoke again.  “Hey.  Look I’m sorry.  I...I-”  It took a lot of effort for his lips to form the words but it was no use.  .

The other boy’s frown deepened as he could only see Harry’s lips move.  His expression changed to one of anger and he opened his mouth and words floated into the air around them.

Harry only caught snatches of what he was saying.

“Why did...is...some...joke...don’t understand...hate ...!”

He could faintly hear the sound of a train approaching but he mentally shook himself.  It must have just been his imagination.

The blonde boy continued to shout at Harry who just stood there dumbly, paralysed, unable to do anything.

The rhythmic sound of the train heightened and it richocheted through the younger boy’s brain.  He tore his gaze away from the blonde boy and searched for the source of the sound, but he was met with blankets of white.  He clutched at his ears, trying to shut out the sound but it rose further as if mocking him.

The other boy stepped forward abruptly, the distance between the two boys shrinking.

Suddenly, Harry saw a train approach at maximum speed and before he could even open his mouth to scream-

 

Harry sat up, shouting, squirming, yelling.  His breath came out in short gasps as he struggled to breathe.

Louis started beside him and sat up; a concerned expression on his face.

Harry blinked, as his eyes accustomed to the darkness; confused.  He wrapped his arms around the older boy’s middle and buried his face in his neck.  “Dont go, Niall.” He muttered.  He was too traumatized to cry for the moment.  He clung to the other boy like his life depended on it.

Louis rubbed circles into his back with one hand and reached over to the bedside table with the other, groping around till he came into contact with something hard and cold.  He found his grip on the object and lifted it up, squinting in the darkness.

Pressing the button, the screen lit up, a picture of him and Harry grinning into the camera.  He slid the unlock button and typed in the 4 digit code.  He did this with a little difficulty as he was using his left hand and he was right handed.

When he finally unlocked the console, he slid the screen and tapped the phone button, pressing the number three before hitting Call.

Harry’s body shuddered and the older boy frowned in concern.  He could feel dampness in his T-shirt and realised that the boy was crying.  He ran his hand through the younger boy’s curls, soothing him.

After a few rings, a deep raspy voice thick with sleep, answered on the other end.  “What is it, Louis?” he yawned.

Louis glanced at the clock, it was 3 am.

 

Louis lay back on the sofa, Harry sat cross legged at his feet.

The younger boy rocked back and forth, muttering every so often.

Liam sat across from them, the same concerned expression on both his and Louis’ faces.  “Do you know what the dream was?” he queried.

The older boy shrugged.  “No.  He’s still out if it, but he can sense my presence, though I don’t think he’s fully here.  It’s like he’s in another world.” A smile twitched on his lips as he remembered one of their b-sides then faded as his gaze fell upon their youngest bandmate once more.  “It must have been pretty bad though.”  He paused for a moment, catching Liam’s eye.  “I’d say I was happy that he’s speaking now, but he’s slipping further away and I feel so powerless.  I feel like I can’t do anything to help.”

Harry patted Louis’ knee absentmindedly, calming him.

“We should tell Niall.” Liam spoke with conviction.

The youngest boy’s head shot up, recognising the Irish boy’s name.  His eyes seemed to meet Liam’s but instead looked right through him.  The older boy shuddered.

Louis’ brow knitted.  “No fucking way.  It’s his fault that the poor boy is like this.  He’ll make things even worse.”

Liam folded his arms across his chest.  “What could he possibly do to make things worse than they already are?”

The Yorkshire boy cocked a brow.  “How would we even know how Harry would react when he see’s him?”

“Can we at least tell someone? Zayn?”

“No, he’ll tell Niall.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped and he stopped rocking.  “I’m in love with you, Niall.  Is that what you want to hear?”  His voice broke.

The two brunette boys exchanged a stunned glance.  This was the first time he’d properly admitted it, even though he was pretty out of it at the moment.

“Come on, can we just tell Niall?”  Liam nagged, avoiding Harry’s glassy eyed gaze.

Louis waved a hand dismissively.  “Fine, tomorrow.”

 

Niall kicked at a stray can on the pavement.  It was late afternoon and the sun shone down with force.  Where he was headed, he had no idea but he just wanted to clear his head.  The walk didn’t help much though because there was only one person occupying his thoughts; a curly haired boy with clear green eyes.

He’d had a strange dream the night before.  Harry was shouting at him, screaming, shouting.  Something about not wanting him to go, something about –

He accidently bumped into a young teenage girl.  She gasped when he stepped back.

“Oh my gosh, Niall Horan!” She squealed.

He plastered a fake smile on his face and embraced her with one his ‘famous’ hugs.

“Hey, love.  Are you alright?”  His accent thick as he spoke through the forced grin.

She nodded rapidly then brought out her phone.  “Can I have a picture?”

He shrugged.  “Sure.”

They both posed for a picture, engaged in a little conversation then bade their farewells, parting in different direction.

Niall released a breath; at least his mind had been taken off the boy for at least ten minutes.

His phone beeped and he opened a new text message from Liam.

 

Where are you?

 

Why did he want to know?  It wasn’t like it was any of his business.  Niall was quite surprised though because Liam would usually add x’s at the end of texts he sent to the boys, but he guessed he wasn’t in any of his fellow bandmates’ good books right now.

He tapped out a reply.

 

Nowhere in particular

 

Ha.

 

Niall rolled his eyes.

 

Why do you need to know?

 

It took a while for Liam to reply this time.

 

Nvm, doesn’t matter anymore

 

Niall frowned, slipping his phone into his pocket and wondering what the hell that was all about.

 

Liam had slept on the sofa in Louis and Harry’s apartment.  Now he was sat across from Louis, in an argument about the whole Harry-Niall situation.

“Can’t we just tell Niall?” Liam’s shoulders sagged.  “You agreed last night.  Why change your mind now?”

The oldest boy stood from his seat.

Harry who had been sat in the corner of the room with his legs tucked into his chest, stood too.

“Alright.  Bring Niall here then!”

Harry frowned, meeting Louis’ gaze, eyes distant and occupied.  He closed the distance between them and reached for his arm, squeezing it softly.

Louis sat back down with a sigh, the younger boy sitting beside him and tucking himself into the older boy’s side.

Liam reached for his phone and tapped a new message to the Irish boy.

“Niall.” Harry whispered, face buried into Louis’ neck.

Liam sent a small smile his way, but the younger boy just gazed expressionlessly through him again.  He shivered, hoping that the boy would heal soon and be his normal self again.

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