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It's been three years. Over that actually. Niall needs to keep reminding himself. He has a girlfriend he's finally happy with, in love with. He's written an entire album about her and not him. Yet the nagging feeling in the back of his mind is a constant reminder that he wants to forget. A part of his past he wishes he could erase more than anything.
The first mistake was letting Harry kiss him after the hiatus, when he went to his concert in 2017. His second mistake was letting him into his heart. He overtook every fiber of his being and consumed all of his thoughts. Harry had that effect on people. Niall also knew he wouldn't be the first or last to fall victim to those piercing green eyes or the soft and unruly brown curls that rested on the top of his head like a crown.
When things first started they were good, for a time. The relationship started as any does in its early stages with being obsessed with each other. Of course theirs was secret because no one could find out that two former boybanders were dating and not straight. This gave them the ability to go under the radar and plan secret trips and meetups, but it also in the end contributed to their break-up, always having to hide.
It grew tiresome for both of them, especially Niall who often felt like an afterthought brushed under the rug rather than a priority to his boyfriend. Things between them became rocky as tours and other commitments got in the way of their relationship. Harry was distant and drew back from him, acting single months before they even decided to break up. That one hurt more than Niall cared to admit. But this was all in the past, now, three years.
Here he is thinking about Harry at the most inconvenient of times while he's at the Masters. He caught wind of there being a possibility that Harry might come, that their paths might cross in the world of golf. And in a way Niall felt betrayed. Harry knew this was his territory and dared to venture into the scene at the heart of his happiness. He knew this shouldn't bother him or even be a worry because he moved on and he was happy.
There was also the fact that he might not come at all. Maybe he was simply passing through Georgia as a layover for another destination on his break from touring, or maybe it was true what people were saying over filming for Marvel. With his luck though, he felt like it was neither option. That's why he started planning an escape route in case he needed it. Instead of being the bigger person, the adult in this situation, he chose to pursue the flight approach.
He didn't necessarily want to leave the Masters early. He got to Georgia in the last week of March and had spent nearly two weeks in this state going to other golfing events and even making a surprise cameo at his best friend Lewis's concert. Would anyone think anything if he left a couple of days earlier than planned? He was in the midst of promo and filming for The Voice. Perhaps his escape would be credible and warranted if it came to that.
Despite the fact that they were friends, or pretended to be, he knew he couldn't handle this public of an interaction with Harry right now. It took a lot for him to get over him and move on with Amelia. This encounter would bring him five steps back and he didn't want to risk the progress he worked so hard to establish. He thinks back to the concert he'd gone to just last June and shudders at the thought.
His girlfriend had been the one to suggest going. He was in the last stages of finishing up his album and was itching to go back to live gigs again as the world continued to slowly open back up again. He feared that this suggestion would surface one day, but didn't anticipate the chance to arise so soon. The break in his schedule and the date Harry had in the UK happened to line up (against his will). He felt that he had no choice but to agree.
One of the boundaries he had set with his therapist shortly after their break-up in late 2019 was limiting contact and interactions with Harry. It was far easier to go through with this now that they weren't in the band anymore and hardly in the same time zones. Cutting communication meant giving his phone to others when he had the urge to call or text Harry because moments of weakness sprouted up in random spurts those first few months.
The separation proved to be harder and took work. He learned coping mechanisms that weren't biting his nails or picking at his skin until he bled. For a time he was able to forget Harry when he was introduced to Amelia by mutual friends. He didn't take the date seriously at first because he had his fair share of dating disasters and blind dates weren't really his thing. He was scarred by crazed fans posing as potentially interested girlfriends only to find out they wanted money or to use him for their fifteen minutes of fame.
After he got home though, he knew he was fucked. Amelia was different. She wasn't in the industry and that itself drew him to her. She wasn't obsessed or clingy. She was grounded and normal and Niall needed that. Their first date turned into a series of them and that resulted in spending a lot of quarantine together. It swirled into a full-on romance neither of them intended falling into.
Six months passed in this manner where Niall forgot his pain and began to heal. The thought of falling in love again scared him greatly, but Amelia helped him through that. Then the rumors came in January 2021 of Harry and the director of the new movie he was in, Olivia Wilde. He's ashamed to admit that he spiraled. He was doing so good for months and this happens. He didn't know if it was true for a fact until pictures at Jeff's wedding leaked.
So, he had finally moved on. It was like a waiting game for him that slowly worked away at his insides, leaving the cracks open for gaping holes to make a home in his poorly patched heart. He began to withdraw from Amelia and his friends took notice. They knew immediately what was going on and tried to shut it down, the feelings they knew that would lead Niall to go back to his dark place and lose Amelia if he wasn't careful.
He worked through these issues with his therapist and his relationship survived. He became better and immersed himself in his album and worked double time to repair the little gaps that formed in his temporary relapse. Quickly 2021 turned into 2022, another year signaling his life without Harry and he was once again feeling like himself. He and Harry had a secret meet-up for his birthday. They went hiking and this was the first time they were alone since they broke up.
Niall panicked when he read Harry's text about hanging out. How Harry knew that they were in the same time zone, the same area was beyond him. He ran the idea past his cousins and they encouraged him. They both had girlfriends now, things were different. It would be fine.
In the end, it wasn't awkward, not entirely. Once past the pleasantries, they delved into conversation just like they did in the days of the band. It felt like they were catching up after a few weeks away from each other when the band had breaks in between legs of tour. It almost felt normal. They went to go grab coffee before their hike and talked about their families, their albums, and their girlfriends.
When this subject came up he thought he saw Harry shift uncomfortably as he gushed about Amelia and the vacation they'd gone on together recently. As soon as the feeling crossed his mind, the moment passed. Maybe he had imagined it. There's no way Harry had any lingering feelings about him. They both had new relationships. The subject didn't come up again for the rest of their time together that day.
The hike had happened four months before the proposal of the concert. Niall remembers the clatter of the fork that had been halfway to his mouth. He quickly recovered by picking it up and muttering something about clumsy fingers. Amelia didn't even blink twice and continued about her brilliant idea. He smiled through it and nodded along at the right parts. He knows she had never been to a concert when they were in the band.
She had also previously expressed interest in attending one of his former bandmates concerts, so he shouldn't be as surprised as he felt in that moment. Yet, he wasn't expecting it to happen then. The next morning he had called his therapist for an emergency phone session. She coached Niall through some breathing exercises and reassured him that he could do this, that he had made remarkable progress, that their last meet-up was fourth months ago and he'd successfully navigated it on his own, that this would be a piece of cake.
The only difference between now and then was that Amelia would be there. He didn't know how he would act, how Harry would act around her. Would that look in his eyes flash across his features in the blink of an eye again? Would his unsaid thoughts remain in his head, but linger in the atmosphere between the two of them? He was glad that if he went through with this, there would be a sea of people surrounding them.
Niall agrees to going, to appease his girlfriend and to prove to himself that he could do this, that he could handle being in the same vicinity as Harry and his girlfriend. After all, this was their new normal. Maybe he would get to meet Olivia. Their paths had yet to cross but he knew she went to a lot of Harry's concerts when filming finished. The days leading up to the concert are hard. He finds himself waking up more and more in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, images of unrealistic scenarios playing out in his mind.
His therapist is almost a daily part of his daily routine now. Calling her whenever a wave of panic threatens to spill over his mind and overtake every notion of his body. His heart would accelerate and a battering in his rib cage thumped, a fist bearing down between each rib, sinking into the knots of his stomach. He knew this was an irrational reaction when he knew it would be a couple of hours of his time and most of it would be spent watching the stage, not actually interacting with Harry. That part would last an hour at the most.
He decides against reaching out to Harry himself and lets his assistant work out the details. It ends up being a larger group of them and they're put on the guest list. He thanks god they won't be anywhere near back or side stage, the front row, or pit, and instead will have the comfort of VIP. A couple of hours before the show he finds out that they're going to be seated with the majority of Harry's family. He hoped it would be his sister and mom at most and dreads that his dad and cousins will be there.
The nice thing about VIP he tells himself, is that they'll be far enough from the stage that Harry won't even be able to see him. They'll have the safety and security of blending in with minimal people spotting them where they are. They arrive before the opening act goes on and are led through the hectic state of backstage. Harry has sound check, a Q and A session, and meet and greets that prevent them from properly interacting prior to the show. The most he sees of him is a blur of his sparkly outfit when he turns around, having felt the squeeze on his upper arm, and watches his back retreating down the hall.
He knows Harry enough to know that he acknowledged that Niall was there and was sorry that this was their first time seeing each other that night. He knows that Harry would love to chat with them now, but it'll have to wait until after the show is over (if they stick around that long). If it were up to him they would be leaving before encore, yet he's been with his cousins and friends to enough concerts to know that's not how it would play out. They loved to stay afterward to interact with the band and crew, especially when it was one of the boys; that and Amelia had yet to meet Harry properly. She wouldn't want to leave without introductions.
Their arrival at Wembley had been under the radar. They found their seats in the VIP area and mingled with Harry's family. Gemma, Anne, and Des were beyond the moon happy to see him. He introduced Amelia to them and the rest of Harry's family, to tremendous approval. He felt Amelia smiling into his shoulder, slightly shy, he tightened his grip on her hand and offered a smile in reassurance. They spent a while catching up with his family. A series of memories from their days in the band and what followed after burst uninvited in Niall's mind.
It becomes easier when they're in their seats and people begin to quiet down to listen to the opening act. Niall knows a couple of songs but isn't entirely familiar with the artist. With a beer in his hand, he finds himself relaxing and enjoying the night. Deo is on one side of him, while he has an arm wrapped around Amelia on his right. She keeps smiling and they whisper things to each other occasionally. Niall feels like he's being watched. Of course in a stadium of 90,000 people that's likely to happen.
He's used to having his privacy poked and prodded at in public. The open-air helps to calm his growing nerves, but that feeling of uneasiness ebbs up his spine and rests at the base of his neck. He plasters a smile on his face and hopes it blooms into a genuine one when Harry takes the stage. He knows people will spot him and ignores the itch to flee, ignores the pictures and videos they'll take, knowing they'll eventually make their way onto Twitter.
He focuses on the fact that he's standing in Wembley. A dream venue he played multiple times with the boys and how proud he feels watching Harry doing it on his own, how far he's come in his solo career thus far. He harbors no feelings of resentment or jealousy at Harry's success and feels pride. Eventually, he begins singing along, bobbing to other songs, and cannot help the smile when What Makes You Beautiful starts. He remembers the numerous times they sang that together and how different it feels to be watching it instead of experiencing it side by side on the same stage.
*****
Backstage is chaotic as it always tends to be after a show. They're escorted into a private sitting area with plenty of couches and chairs. A tv broadcasting the concert is at the center-most wall, while tables filled with catered food, drinks, and a corner housing unused glasses and a variety of alcohol bottles take up the rest of the space. It's comfortable and a little oasis away from the noise and masts of people.
They're not the only ones there, Harry's family make their way into this lounge. Music plays softly from speakers somewhere and the mood in here is generally calmer until the doors open and in walks Harry with a few members from his band. This space is shared and everyone blends in together, more of Harry's team and managers swarm in from time to time, checking to see if anyone needs anything. The people Harry's surrounded himself with are as attentive as he's always been and it warms Niall's heart.
He makes his rounds across the room slowly, taking his time to catch up with his friends and family. Niall is caught up in his own conversation with Deo, Amelia, and his other friends when he feels a light tug at his elbow. He looks up to meet Amelia's gaze and allows his eyes to venture past her towards someone else entering their circle, the others already having made space for him.
"Hello! Thank you so much for coming, it means the world. I'm sorry I couldn't get away before the show to speak to you guys, you know how crazy it gets. Did you enjoy the show?" Everyone waves off Harry's apology and soon there are greetings between old friends and introductions being made left, right, and center. They all nod their assent and shower Harry with praises on a wonderful show. The last introduction to be made is the one Niall had been dreading most.
Harry is standing next to him now, with a hand over his shoulder in a sort of half hug and a quick press of his lips to Niall's cheek. His heart thunders against his chest and he wonders if Harry can hear it, feel it pulsing where they're touching, skin on skin. "And who might this lovely lady be?" He has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes because of course Harry knows who this is, but he's ever the charmer.
Amelia is all shy smiles and giggles muffled behind her hand. She extends her hand, a look of surprise rising on her face as Harry takes her hand and kisses it. Clearly she had been expecting a handshake at most, but she doesn't seem disappointed by this gesture. "Harry, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend Amelia. Amelia, this is the doofus you just watched jumping around on stage for two hours, in his sparkly getup."
"Hey!" he hears and is met with an amused look from Harry who has brought Amelia in for a hug and they're exchanging this look behind her back. He swears he sees that same look he saw four months ago on their hike when they mentioned their girlfriends, but it's gone just as quickly as it was last time. But now he's sure he saw it, unlike the last time. There was something brewing behind the storm of Harry's eyes, his mind, unsaid things tugging at his heartstrings.
"Sorry, couldn't resist the urge H." Niall had almost let the old nickname Haz slip out and was grateful he'd managed to avoid that can of worms. The three of them strike up a conversation for a few minutes and it's easy. At one point Niall is appointed as the one to grab them a round of drinks. He feels nervous, looking over his shoulder at the pair of them. What were they talking about? Harry wouldn't dare bring something from the past up to make Amelia uncomfortable.
His eyes meet with Harry's, and for a brief second they lock, until Harry is the first to break it in exchange for looking at Amelia. Niall is quick to craft three drinks for them at the self-serve table and expertly brings back the glasses without any spillage. His girlfriend and ex-boyfriend are laughing at something and he watches their movements. The way Harry is leaning in to Amelia, a supporting hand on her shoulder, giving her his undivided attention.
When he hands off their drinks his and Harry's hand brush, a shock of electricity shoots up his spine and sparks down to his toes. He ignores this feeling and focuses on Amelia. "Do you mind hanging onto that for me babe? I have to run to the ladies." He agrees with a nod of his head and sends her off with a swift kiss on her lips. He feels Harry's eyes on him, studying them.
As Amelia walks away, he feels a slight shift in the atmosphere. "Were you planning on staying for the whole thing?" Harry takes a sip of his drink as he asks this, crossing his arms, head tilted at Niall, gauging his possible response. "I'm not sure. The thought crossed my mind to leave a little earlier to avoid being spotted. But we were fine up in VIP." He watches as Harry takes in his words, mulling over the honesty behind them.
"Why didn't you text me? I would've been more than happy to arrange this for you." Niall hears the rest of what Harry wants to say, but won't. He skirts around this and tries to buy himself some time. He sips his drink and lets the words tumble out, "I didn't want to be a bother. Figured it might be too close to the show to be able to get on the guest list. Didn't want you to feel pressured to say yes in case you had a full house." Harry nods, not buying this version of words.
He knows to read between the lines, that what Niall really meant was: I didn't want to talk to you more than I needed to, I didn't want to come here of my own accord, that I'd let someone else handle the awkwardness I still feel between us. His lips pursed at this revelation and he forces the layers of hurt down. His family and friends are here tonight, Niall is here tonight. Now is not the time or place to discuss what's been eating away at him for the last year.
"That's okay, I get it. You're here, right? And you had a good time, yeah?" Harry has to fight every urge in his body from reaching for Niall's hand, from intertwining their fingers together. He gulps down the tears he knows will inevitably make their way down his face later tonight when he's alone in his hotel room and the pillows can absorb the wetness. "Yeah," Niall agrees. They stand in silence for a beat and they see Amelia coming back to them. They both plaster smiles on their faces and step back from each other. Harry is soon whisked away.
They end up spending another hour talking and socializing with the band and members of Harry's family. Usually they'd be out of the venue by now and on to their next destination, but they didn't have another show for a couple of days. Harry is in the crowd, resurfacing every now and then. It's towards the end of the hour when he catches Niall by the elbow and brings him in for a last hug. They take a couple of pictures with his group and Amelia gets her fill with ones of just her and Harry.
Someone suggests the two of them take one together, him and Harry. He wants to punch them in the throat. His feet almost drag across the floor the closer he comes to Harry and its Harry that breeches the couple inches of space Niall had left between them. He feels a pinch at his lower back and meets Harry's eyes when his hand settles there. Harry's eyes are questioning him, searching for answers Niall isn't quite ready to give.
He feels the hand around his back worm its way around his waist and the firm weight of Harry planted against him. He wants to flinch away, his skin is on fire every second that they're in this close proximity. Their eye contact is broken by someone yelling "Smile!" and both boys obey, even throwing up a couple of peace signs as the camera shutters go off. Niall is relieved when he can take a step back and breathe the air in his own space.
He sees Harry deflate slightly at his speed to get away from him. There was a time he would latch onto his side and stay there the entire night. But that was then, and this is now. Their goodbyes come next, and promises of getting together soon ring loud in the air. "You'll have to bring Olivia next time, we can double date." Amelia jokes and Niall nearly chokes on his drink, and he doesn't miss the way Harry stiffens at these words.
"Of course, we'll make it happen when our schedules allow for it. Right, Ni?" He finds himself unable to generate words and hums in agreement. He bounces on the heels of his feet, rocking backward and forward. Deo is the last to say his goodbyes to Harry and the rest. Niall thinks he is safe to leave when Harry reaches for him at the last second. His grip is firm and he knows he won't let go until he says something. "She's lovely, Niall." The words are a slap to the face.
The double meaning of them doesn't go unnoticed by him. He refuses to react the way Harry wants him to and fires back with, "I imagine Olivia is too," and the grip on his arm slackens instantly. He stooped to Harry's level without meaning to but there was no use fretting over words that were already said. They hang in the air, and he sees the flash of hurt in Harry's eyes. Niall knows the next time he sees him that Harry will be single and on a mission.
*****
Fast forward ten months to the present and Niall is weighing his options and the likelihood of his ex emerging in Georgia. Ever since the concert, he had limited their interactions like he did the first year after their breakup. He thought he was past that stage, that time would heal that wound, but he's beginning to think it might take a lifetime, or multiple, to move past and forget Harry.
He felt like shit for allowing this inner battle to rage inside of him. Amelia, his wonderful, lifesaving, and beautiful girlfriend deserved the world and he wanted to be able to return the endless happiness she'd given him after his heartbreak hell. He thinks that Harry noticed that visible shift and barriers Niall put back up after that one night in June. How their makeshift friendship was fake all along, at least from Niall's end. Maybe Harry thought that it was real, that they were bordering on territory that they treaded on before ever getting together.
Niall knows that if he were in Harry's position and Harry had acted toward him as he has been towards Harry, he'd be angry. The thing is though, if Harry has indeed picked up on any of this, he's letting Niall do this. Treat him lesser than he deserves, in a colder manner than he has in the past. That night let him know that Harry wasn't happy either, that on some scale he was still hurting too. But the idea of them trying again terrified him and one he regarded as impossible.
A part of him doesn't want to admit that he thinks he's still in love with Harry. That he always will be. This reality has been buried deep inside of him, burrowed down in the depths of his heart that is unraveling day by day. He claws this harsh truth down, willing his mind to tamper down the thoughts that want to break across the surface. He cannot let these words fester and sink in. He has worked hard to forget the boy, turned man who broke his heart so cleanly in two just days after his second album Fine Line had been released.
He doesn't know if he can ever forgive, or truly love and trust to the extent he did before. A text brings him out of his inner turmoil and bile rises in his throat that he's quick to swallow down with the rest of his uncalled-for feelings. He's coming. He's on his way. His vision blurs and he's ready to run. To pack his bags or even leave everything and get the hell out of there. The rational part of his mind comes out of hibernation and tells him to take ten deep calming breaths: inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
He needs to get a grip on himself. He's over him, he's over this, whatever they were in the past. He needs to be, for his own sanity. He doesn't know where Harry is coming from or how much time he has before he gets here if his source is reliable. He doesn't want to stay long enough to find out either. The call to change his flight is an easy one. His email dings to let him know he's leaving later that night and will be in London soon.
Did he want to stay for the whole weekend and attend the party? Sure. Did he do damage control in the little time he had? Hell yes. He'd gone out of his way to text a couple of people to let them know a work emergency needed his attention back in the UK. The few people he ran into on the way to the hotel lobby received the same story. He'd even factored in the poor weather of the last two days.
Hopefully news traveled and reached the right ears by the time he left, and in translation, Harry would find out from them too. Niall does a last sweep of his hotel room and grieves this loss of leaving early. He's never done that before. And of course this is the one time Harry comes to this thing. The door shuts with a click behind him and he rushes to the front desk to drop off his key and meet up with his security.
They had paid off the hotel staff to let him use the back exit and borrow one of their cars on the premises to keep his departure quiet. Niall knows he won't feel complete relief until he's buckled into his plane seat and they're well in the air. A flicker of panic enters his mind when he considers if there's a chance he'd run into Harry at the airport but knows this is impossible due to the size of it and number of flights coming in and out constantly.
He wonders if Harry will check into the same hotel he just checked out of, or if he's going to stay at one nearby. His mind wanders to what this weekend could have been and meant for them if they had the chance to be alone. Would Harry have tried something? His inkling that he would be single the next time they met was right, except he wasn't letting Harry see him, potentially running his current relationship into the ground with whatever he planned on telling Niall.
The car comes to a halt and the door swings open. Niall plants one foot firmly on the ground and hangs onto the door handle until the rest of his body meets the level pavement. It's darker out now, not quite night, but close enough. By the time he reaches his apartment tonight, it'll be between the late hours of Friday or early into Saturday. His brain is too tired to calculate the math right now.
His bags are secured for him and he only needs to worry about finding his flight terminal. The check-in process passes smoothly and he's sitting in the lounge of first class, only half an hour before he can board. His foot taps impatiently on the carpeted floor and he's looking over his shoulder every thirty seconds, afraid he'll see Harry looming over him with that same hurt look he'd revealed the last time they were together.
*****
Two empty glasses sit next to his current drink that's dripping down the sides, leaving trails of water on top of his napkin. When he lifts the cup to his mouth the napkin sticks to the bottom of the cup and he pries it apart, observing the ring of water imprinted there. He's made it safely on his flight, with no ex-boyfriend run-ins. His phone is on airplane mode as instructed by the stewardess and he is already two-thousand miles away from Harry.
He doesn't even mind that this flight is over eight hours. He uses this time to clear his mind and watch mindless movies on the screen in front of him. The drinks he washed down were accompanied by dinner and he feels content. He escaped. This time. Now that he knew Harry was on the hunt for him he planned to run forever, or until he got the message to leave him alone.
Against his will, he falls asleep at some point and jolts awake as the plane begins its ascent into London. Home. He made it. His actions that follow carry out in a mode of autopilot. He stands, waiting for the doors to open, to pass through security, retrieve his luggage from baggage claim, and hop into the car arranged for him by his assistant. He turns his phone off airplane mode and feels a pang of regret. Oh.
Oh no... there are a series of texts waiting for his eyes to skim over. Most of them are from the same person and he cannot stomach this right now. Not until he's alone and behind his own locked doors. Niall locks his phone and puts it down next to him on the seat and shifts his attention to the blur of lights and buildings passing them by. He counts the minutes and rushes to open the door when his complex is in sight.
He has help unloading his things from the trunk and bounds inside, into the safety of the desk where his doorman awaits his arrival and welcomes him home with a tired smile. His feet carry him to the elevator and he's jamming the button to his floor, willing the doors to open faster. His shoulders sag when the doors envelop him in silence and he sees his reflection staring back at him. Did he really look like that his entire flight?
The doors open, signaling that he's finally made it. He retrieves his keys from his jacket pocket and unlocks the door. He lets his bags drop to the floor and secures the locks in place, only then allowing his forehead to rest against the cool surface of his door. There's no stopping the tears, the exhaustion he'd fought all day creeping in. His mind is in a fog and the phone in his pocket weighs him down. Niall makes it to his couch and launches himself into the soft cushions and inviting pillows.
He peels his jacket off and begrudgingly brings his phone out, resting it in the center of his palm, looking down at it in disdain, as if it was the thing bringing him unrelenting pain. His heart races when the swipe-up reveals the words he'd chosen to ignore earlier.
Harry: Where are you?
Harry: Are you staying in the same hotel as last time?
Harry: I asked around and no one seems to know where you are.
Harry: Well, I know it's no phones while on the course so I'll check in later if you don't first.
Harry: There's no way you aren't seeing my texts. It's been hours and mostly everyone you're with is back.
Harry: Are you avoiding me?
Harry: Do you want to grab dinner? I know it's late, but I can't sleep.
Harry: Um, I just tried asking for you at the front desk. One of the guys gave me your room number but they need you to come down here or call to let me up.
Harry: Please Niall, I only want to see you for a second.
Harry: They said you're not here right now? Where are you? Are you crashing with one of the other guys?
Harry: YOU FUCKING LEFT???
Harry: You left and you didn't have the fucking audacity to tell me? Why are you running from me? Did someone tell you I was coming ahead of time?
Harry: Niall
Harry: I can't believe this right now. I wanted to see you, for this to be a normal thing we could do. But apparently not. We both love golf.
Harry: ?
Harry: You can keep running, but you can't avoid me forever.
Harry: I thought we were past this. I thought we could move on.
Harry: Niall please, don't do this...
Niall: I'm sorry
The text is sent before his mind registers and catches up to his actions. An incoming call pops up on his screen and he actually groans. He didn't want this. He didn't mean for this to turn into something, into anything. When the call ends another begins. This cycle happens three more times before he allows the phone to slip from his grip and thud onto the ground.
He can't handle this. He's spiraling again and he doesn't know if he can come out of it this time. Harry and Amelia both swirl in his mind, swimming in the depths of his thoughts and desires. The only difference is one host has resided there and wedged itself in pretty deeply for nearly thirteen years. The other has only been there for three years, a grazing period in comparison. In the end he knows both hosts will fight and only one can survive, remaining there forever. What's worse is he doesn't know which one it'll be, but the one he wants it to be, and this makes him cry harder and his heart break a little faster.