Chapter Text
The sun beats down, relentless and hot against their backs. Harry keeps his head on a swivel as the rest of the men get out of the Humvees behind him.
He sees Niall out of the corner of his eye.
“Hazza,” Louis says. “Take point.”
Harry gives a quick nod before he shuffles, staying low, to the head of the men.
Routine operations don’t usually call for this; running headlong into some back alley after an indeterminate number of hostiles. One second, they’re running a checkpoint and the next they’re in the Humvees and chasing after people who are shooting at them.
Sweat runs down Harry’s back. He feels it as he sticks close to the wall. A parked car sits a few feet ahead and Harry puts his fits up to signal the others to hold up. The alleyway gets narrower up ahead. Rooftops perfect for an ambush, but he doesn’t see anyone.
If they come at them from either side from the rooftops, they’ll be pinned down with hardly any cover. There’s more cover on the other side of the street.
“What’s up?” Louis says from behind him. “You see something.”
“I don’t see anything,” Harry whispers. “We should go back.”
“Orders say we have to go in,” Louis says.
Harry knows that Louis thinks that’s shit; most of their orders are.
“Stay here.” Harry keeps his eyes on the rooftops. “I’ll go across, try to draw them out. Cover me.”
He catches Niall’s blue eyes staring back at him when he turns, Liam’s crouched down just behind him.
“You sure about this?” Louis asks.
“Not really.” Harry takes one last look up before he runs up to the boot of the car parked in front of them, looks across the way toward the opposite wall and the small barrier.
He stays low to the ground, but before he even makes it halfway, he sees the shadow pop up from above him.
Shots echo out. From his own men, from the hostiles.
The pain doesn’t hit him right away. He falls to the ground. He hears voices amidst the gunfire. He hears his name in muffled noises around him. He hears Niall’s voice.
Harry wakes with a start, when he feels Niall’s hand nudge his leg. “We’re almost there,” he says. Niall’s bright blue eyes calm Harry almost immediately.
Niall rests his head against Harry’s shoulder, pulling at the collar of his Army uniform.
He’s been uncomfortable since they landed back in England and Harry doesn’t blame him. It felt more foreign than the foreign countries they’d been fighting in over the last four years. But that’s all behind them now, or so they hope.
Harry looks across the aisle and catches Liam’s eye and Liam gives him a small smile.
They sit quietly on the bus watching the trees blur on the sides of the road. Harry sits next to the window watching as the trees turn into blurred houses and business. He feels his heart skip a beat when his surroundings become more familiar. Streets he recognizes; the names of businesses…names that he’d forgotten after being gone for so long.
They finally get to go home. Four years in the Army and now, they get to be civilians again. Of course, a good handful of the rest of the men on the bus with them where already planning to go back. Two weeks of R & R before they get shipped back.
Harry’s tired though. He’s ready to get back to just being Harry instead of Private Styles.
When the bus stops, they all stand and pick up their duffle bags, slinging them over their shoulders before they exit the bus.
Harry sees his mum and his sister, Gemma, as soon as he steps onto the sidewalk. He walks toward them, dropping his bag on the ground, and wraps his arms around them.
Liam’s sister Ruth is standing just beside them smiling when Liam finally shuffles off the bus.
It feels strange. Like he hasn’t had human contact for all the time he’s been away.
As soon as they let go, Anne sees Niall and gives him a warm hug, while Gemma grabs Liam after Ruth finally lets go of him.
“It’s good to see you boys,” Anne says, stepping back from Niall to get a better look at the three of them.
Harry’s hair was longer the last time that she saw him. He’d grown it out while he was home after their last tour, but now it was shorter, shaved on the sides, while keeping a little bit of length on the top.
Niall’s hair lost a lot of its blond since then as well. She could only see it on the top of his hair now from where it had grown out and he got it cut off.
Ruth takes Liam back to her house and Harry and Niall go with Anne and Gemma.
Harry tries to answer his mum’s questions as they drive home. Niall’s quiet as he stares out the window. He hadn’t said much in a while and it’s putting Harry on edge.
Their house is just as Harry remembers it but it almost feels like an old picture of a place long left behind.
He remembers the day they signed the papers. They were twenty and stupidly in love. They knew it wasn’t much. A single story house with one and a half bathrooms, one bedroom, with an extra bed in what was in the room they used as a studio for Harry’s photography stuff and Niall’s music.
Stepping inside feels like when they first bought it. Everything seems familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time.
“Did some shopping so you boys are all set until you can get there yourselves,” Anne says.
Harry thinks she notices Niall’s silence through all of this, and maybe his own as well.
“Thanks,” Harry says quietly as he sets his duffle next to the couch.
“Alright, well they are having a big welcome home party at the lodge for all of you tonight,” Anne says changing the subject. “We’ll let you boys get settled and we’ll meet you over there later?” Anne gives Harry a worried look.
“Sounds good, mum,” Harry forces a smile.
Anne hugs him again. “We missed you so much, Sweetheart,” Anne says and she steps back, cupping Harry’s face between her hands. She looks at him for a moment before she finally drops her hands. “So, call if you need anything or if you want us to give you a ride over to the party.”
“Will do,” Harry says.
As soon as Anne and Gemma leave, the house feels utterly quiet and the two of them just stand there for a long moment until Harry reaches out and grazes Niall’s arm with his fingers to get his attention.
“Hey,” Harry says lightly when Niall looks up at him. “We don’t have to go back to normal, alright? It’s gonna be a bit weird to begin with.”
Niall gives a faint smile and Harry wraps him in a big hug, holding Niall tight to him, until Niall’s holding him back.
“I love you so much,” Harry whispers.
“I love you too,” Niall says, burying his face into Harry’s neck.
Harry stands in front of the dresser in his and Niall’s bedroom. Niall’s in the shower and Harry didn’t miss the sound of the door locking when Niall went into the bathroom.
Harry pulls the small key out of his pocket and unlocks the small wooden box that sits on top of the dresser. He pulls out a silver-chained necklace; at the end of it dangles a gold band ring.
He examines the ring, turning it over in his hand. The inscription To Harry Love Niall etched inside the thin band. Harry clenches his fist around the ring and he can feel the tears stinging the back of his eyes.
They’d left so much uncertain when they left for their last tour. They still had one more tour to do before they were out and Niall proposed to Harry nonetheless. Things were good then, but after this tour, things are different. Harry can feel it…they all can feel it.
He blamed the awkwardness on Niall’s silence when really he didn’t want to talk either. It isn’t like being away at school or summer camp, where you come home and tell your family about all the fun things you did. They were away killing people in some far off place for god and country.
Harry is okay with the idea of being home, but everything just seems old. Not in the sense of decay but of distance. The idea of getting his old job back at the newspaper. His and Niall’s old relationship. The way they used to be. The people they used to be.
Harry looks at the ring again. He remembers the day he put it away before they left again. He’d talked about it with Niall about not wanting to lose it, not wanting to explain it away to anyone who asked or ever saw the inscription.
So, the Army doesn’t know that Niall and Harry are in a relationship…It went further beyond any notion of “don’t ask, don’t tell”. It became an issue of priority. If the army thought for a second that either of them would try to save or protect the other instead of doing their duty, they’d be put into different units. So, for the full year they are gone, they aren’t technically together. They keep their hands off each other and promised not to take priority if either of them were wounded during a firefight.
As far as the British Army is concerned, they are just two men in the same unit, who own a house together…a house with only one bedroom, but the Army doesn’t need to know that.
Harry takes the ring off the chain though…he adds it to the ID tags dangling from his neck and tucks it under his shirt.
“Baby steps,” he whispers to himself just as he hears the shower turn off.
Harry sits down on the edge of the bed and starts unlacing his boots and unbuttoning his uniform.
Niall walks in moments later with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair sitting flat against his forehead. “Forgot how nice that shower is,” Niall says as he goes to the dresser.
Harry can’t help but look Niall up and down as he stands with his back to Harry.
He can see the tan lines on Niall’s arms against the paleness of the rest of his body. He sees the scars on Niall’s back from a car that exploded during what started out as a surveillance opp. The injury wasn’t that bad, and it was only about a two months later that Harry got hit in the shoulder.
Old wounds from old memories.
“How long do you think this thing is going to be tonight?” Niall asks as he sets some clothes down on the bed beside Harry.
Harry shrugs and Niall looks disappointed.
“Niall, we haven’t been home in a while. My mum…Gemma, they just want to spend some time with us.” Harry watches Niall for any sort of reaction.
“Spent a year getting shot at and blown up, but yeah, let’s have a party…” Niall says and he quickly grabs his clothes and goes back into the bathroom, once again locking the door.
Harry sighs and starts looking through the dresser to find something to wear. He wasn’t in the mood for a party either, but he gets it. Their friends and family just want to celebrate them coming home and it isn’t just about Harry and Niall but the rest of the guys too.
Harry gets dressed and goes out to the living room, when there’s a light knock on the front door, but Harry can see Liam standing on the other side of the screen door, so he waves him in.
Liam looks awkward standing there with his hands in the pockets of his civilian clothes.
“How’s it been so far?” Liam asks while Harry moves stuff around the kitchen.
“With me, Niall, or the fear of this party tonight because I don’t think any of it is going alright,” Harry says.
Liam rubs the back of his neck. “Christ, I figured that you two would already be tearing the bedroom apart by now. What’s going on with Nialler?”
Harry shakes his head. “He’s hardly said a word since we got back. Not too happy about tonight either.”
“Join the club,” Liam says flatly. “Ruth says that they’re making a really big deal about the whole thing.” Liam sits on the arm of the couch. “We get blown up and shot at and now they want to call us heroes.” Liam laughs. “You know damn well Louis would be bitchin’ a fit if he was here.”
“He’d probably pretend to go along with the whole thing and then tell everyone to go fuck themselves or something,” Harry laughs at the image in his head.
“How he ever became a sergeant, I will never understand,” Liam says picking at a loose thread sticking out of the seam of the couch.
The bathroom door opens and Niall comes out fully dressed. “Hey, Payno,” Niall says casually. “What are we talking about?” He sits down on the couch looking between Harry and Liam.
“Discussing how Lou became a sergeant,” Liam says.
“Ah,” Niall says. “Especially after he told off Major Keaton when we were in the middle of that shit-storm they called a ‘routine procedure’.”
Liam laughs. “God, I thought they’d court martial him for sure after that one.”
There’s a pause in the conversation after that and Liam’s words seem to hang in the air.
Liam checks his watch. “If we’re going to this thing we better get to it.”
“Don’t sound too excited there, Payno,” Niall says reaching over to pat Liam’s leg before he pops up off the couch.
Harry’s leaning against the counter in the kitchen and Niall stands in front of him.
Niall gives Harry a strange look. One that Niall only gives him when Niall is about to do or already has done something stupid.
Harry smells the alcohol on Niall’s breath when he leans in to give Harry a kiss on the cheek.
“Well, I’ll drive,” Liam says with a light laugh taking his keys out of his pocket.
“We’ll be out in a minute,” Harry says and Liam gives a quick nod before he goes back outside, the edges of the screen door smacking the frame.
Niall starts to follow, but Harry grabs his arm. “Have you been drinking already?”
Niall gives Harry a look that makes the answer pretty obvious.
“We might not be in it anymore, Niall, but at least have some respect for these people. They’re your friends. They’re your family—”
“No, Harry. They’re your friends and your family. You, Payno, and Tommo are all I ever had, but Tommo’s not here and neither you nor Liam wants to go to this thing any more than I do. So get off your high horse cause if drinking is how I get through this then that’s what I’m gonna do.”
When they get to the lodge, Harry walks quietly behind Niall and Liam. It was an awkwardly quiet ride over as Harry sat in the backseat watching everything go by.
He’s willing and ready to give Niall time and space. God knows this wasn’t easy the other times they came home, but it was never this bad. It was like they forgot how they used to be around each other. Like they woke up with someone telling them they were engaged, but they didn’t know each other at all.
They just need some time. It was a lot of work being next to each other, but still technically apart for all that time. They had to get used to being able to touch each other again. To spend lazy days in bed curled around each other for hours.
Harry can’t blame Niall when Harry is hardly himself either.
They walk in and see tables set up around an open dancefloor. There’s music playing but Harry doesn’t recognize the song.
Anne, Gemma, and Ruth already have a table for them in the corner and they sit down trying to shake off the awkwardness that surrounds them.
They sit for a long while and Harry watches as Niall downs his third beer. Watching…waiting for whatever comes next.
Harry tries to laugh and smile at the men with their wives or daughters out on the dancefloor. He wonders if it’s easier or harder for them. Harry and Niall’s life together hadn’t really started yet and they couldn’t find a way to fit together again, but the other men look happy and their family overjoyed at them being home.
Harry looks at his mum and he wonders if she knows…if she knows there is something wrong between Harry and Niall.
Maybe this is what happens when you fall in love as kids. Harry was sixteen the first time he kissed Niall. They’d been friends since they were nine years old when Niall moved to Cheshire from Mullingar, Ireland. He was staying with a foster family then, so Harry’s house was the closest thing to a real home Niall ever really new.
But Niall was a church doorstep baby. His mother didn’t even bother to remove his hospital bracelet before she dropped him off so he had some sort of backstory, but his mum died from an overdose only a few months later and his father was nowhere to be found, so Niall went into the system. He was adopted by a young couple when he was four, but for whatever reason, it didn’t work out and Niall’s never said much about it.
Harry looks across the room at a group of older gentlemen who are giving him less than nice looks. They’re veterans, Harry recognizes most of them, knows half of them by name from endless nights of sitting at the bar in town while Niall worked as the bartender.
When Niall and Harry started their relationship at sixteen years old, they kept it a secret for the sake of their friends, Harry’s family, and Niall’s foster parents. The town in itself was not very accepting and at this point, the amount of people who knew for certain that the two of them were together, Harry could count on two hands, but many of the other people living in the town suspects that the two of them were together, which most of them didn’t like…at all.
Liam leans over to Niall, “Bressie just walked in,” he says.
Harry looks toward the entrance and sure enough, the six and a half foot galoot is standing there in a t-shirt and jeans, eyes scanning the room until they land on their table and he smiles walking toward them.
Bressie was a veteran himself, a sergeant in the Army, and owns Camden Pub where Niall works when they’re home.
Niall pretends not to notice and gets up from the table, going in the opposite direction toward the open bar.
“Sorry, I missed the homecoming,” Bressie says taking a seat next to Liam. “Distributer fucked up the order I put in. Been playing phone tag all evening trying to sort it all out.”
Bressie sits there for a moment trying to not look offended by Niall getting up and leaving the table as soon as Bressie spotted them.
They sit for a while, all of them just listening to the music, watching everyone else laugh and carry on with their friends and families, until Ruth gets up and pulls Liam out onto the dance floor.
They all watch them for a moment and Bressie scooches over so he’s sitting next to Harry.
“What’s going on with the little one,” Bressie asks leaning into Harry, his eyes glancing at Niall, who’s sitting at the bar by himself.
Harry gives a sad look and shrugs. “Been like that since we landed.”
Bressie shakes his head before he gets up, strides across the room toward Niall at the bar.
Harry watches them, Niall looking up at Bressie nodding.
Harry’s utterly thankful for Bressie. Most of the men and women that work at Camden Pub are ex-military. People who had issues finding other jobs when they got home. But he did a lot for Niall and Harry over the years, which didn’t even start with giving Niall a job as a bartender.
Bressie has a way with Niall that Harry has never seen from anyone else in Niall’s life. Bressie is like Niall’s older brother. The two of them connected despite their age difference. Before Niall and Harry moved in together, Niall lived with Bressie in the tiny apartment above the bar.
Harry watches Niall talking to Bressie, but then Niall looks sad and starts shaking his head and Bressie wraps his arms around Niall.
Harry has to look away, or better yet, Harry gets up, walks across the room, and back out the front door.
It’s colder than he thought it would be, but the early summer heat hangs in the air. Harry’s chest hurts. Something in him wants to scream.
He doesn’t even know why he’s so upset. Is it because Niall won’t talk to him but will talk to Bressie? Is it because Niall’s hurting and Harry can’t do anything? Harry’s mind is going crazy, he almost wishes that they were back in the thick of it, getting shot at while buildings explode around them. That hurt less than the reality of real life…or being home.
Harry sits down on the steps leading up to the lodge.
Louis’ voice pops into his head in that moment. Louis telling him to suck it up, be happy that he’s home, and that Niall’s there with him, even if things are hard, hard is better than getting shot at or being dead.
The doors open and close behind him. “Harry!” Liam yells with panic in his voice. “Need you’re help!”
Harry gets up, rushing back inside the building behind Liam.
When they get to the main room, the music has stopped, and most of the people are standing, staring at the commotion near the bar, and then Harry sees who the fight is between; Mike Rowlands and Niall.
Harry pushes his way through the crowd. Bressie’s on the floor rubbing his jaw and Niall is beating the holy hell out of Rowlands.
Mike Rowlands is an idiot they went to school with. He got in his fair share of fights in school and by Harry’s account, he brought it on himself.
“Niall!” Harry yells. “Niall stop!”
The other men from their unit stand around the scene either hiding their children from it or standing there with hate in their eyes.
Niall hits Rowlands over and over.
“Niall!” Harry yells, and he does the only thing he can do and grabs Niall from behind, pinning Niall’s arms down before he can pull him off Rowlands.
Niall struggles against Harry’s grip. “Niall stop,” Harry says whispers.
“Fucking jackass deserves it!” Niall yells, lunging toward Rowlands.
“Fuck you, you little faggot!” Rowlands spits out from where he lays on the floor.
Niall lunges again, and this time gets free of Harry’s hold on him with a hit to the gut with his elbow.
Harry crumples onto the floor, but before Niall can get to Rowlands again, Bressie grabs Niall and drags him away from the whole scene. “Get him the hell out of here!” Bressie calls out, gesturing to Rowlands as he takes Niall through the back exit.
Harry gets to his feet as a few of the guys grab Rowlands and take him outside.
Some of the people start to go back to their seats and the music starts up again, but then Harry sees Anne and Gemma standing there amongst the rest of the people looking at him with sad eyes.
“You alright, mate?” Liam asks.
“’m fine.” Harry turns, wincing a little, and walks toward the front door again. He finds himself sitting down in the same spot he’d been in before. For a moment, his mind tricks itself into thinking that he never left that spot in the first place.
His mind shifts back to Louis, who probably wouldn’t had let any of this happen. Louis had a command over them that didn’t have anything to do with him out ranking them. They always listened to him, which is usually what got them into trouble at school.
Suddenly Liam is sitting down beside him.
Liam doesn’t say anything right away, he just sits there staring up at the darkening sky. “Watcha thinkin’ about?” Liam leans into Harry, giving him a light nudge.
“Louis…” Harry says dully.
“That’s a lot to be thinking about,” Liam laughs. “Anything in particular?”
“How he’d tear me a new one for sitting here moping…That I’m home, so I should be enjoying it. How we haven’t been home for one day and Niall’s already gotten into a fight.”
“That sounds like him,” Liam rubs his neck. “Minus all the swearing, of course.”
They sit there for a moment, and Liam sighs, looking over at Harry.
“He’ll come ‘round, you know? This last tour was…”
“Awful?” Harry breathes out.
“I was going to say, not the best, but yeah that too. I think we all just need some time, plus without Tommo here, it’s feeling a bit leaderless at the moment. No one to tell us to get our shit together.”
Harry sighs. He’s not the only one thinking that then…
“Rowlands was out of line. Saying a bunch of shit about the war and the army,” Liam says. “If Niall hadn’t hit him, I probably would’ve.”
“And Bressie?”
“Brez got hit when he tried to stop Niall…caught an elbow to the jaw on the wind up.” Liam rubs his neck. “Most of the guys heard what Rowlands said…and then what he said to Niall. Guess they figured the little jackass deserved it.”
It’s quiet until the doors open behind them, they both turn to see Niall looking around, until his gaze lands on the two of them sitting there staring back at him. Niall sighs in relief and walks over to the two of them.
“You alright?” Liam asks over his shoulder.
Niall nods.
“Ready to go home?” Liam says looking at Niall.
Niall looks nervous for a minute. “’s a bit loud. Feel like it’s all a bit—”
“Too much?” Harry cuts in and Niall nods again.
Liam stands, brushing the dirt off the back of his jeans. “Alright, well I’ll just tell everyone that we’re going take off. We’ll see them later.” Liam goes back inside leaving Harry and Niall outside by themselves.
Niall drops himself into the empty space beside Harry.
“Brez said that this was probably not the best idea…the whole party thing.” Niall looks sad but still has a bit of anger in his eyes. Bressie must’ve cleaned him up a bit. Niall’s knuckles are still red, but the blood that stained them before in no longer there. “It’s just too soon for some of us, I guess.”
Liam drops them off at their house and Harry follows Niall up the front porch.
When they get inside, they aren’t quite sure what to do.
Harry can’t pick up his head. He just keeps staring at the ground even after Niall turns around to face him, so it throws him off a little when Niall wraps his arms around Harry, hugging him tightly.
“I’m sorry, Haz,” Niall says burying his face into the cruck of Harry’s neck.
Harry’s arms slip around Niall’s torso and he breathes in Niall’s scent. He smells cinnamon again. Something he hasn’t smelled in so long, but it’s muddled by the faint scent of beer.
Niall pulls away, much to Harry’s dismay.
He wipes his eyes and starts backing up. “I’m gonna…I just gonna sleep in the guest room,” Niall says and he starts walking away.
“Niall…”
“G’night, Harry,” Niall says quickly before he disappears down the hallway and into the extra bedroom.
Harry lies in their queen-sized bed, which aside from being too soft, is also empty of Niall.
He went to bed around ten and has been tossing and turning for three hours now. He keeps looking at the clock, hoping that it will just magically be six in the morning so he doesn’t have to try to pretend to be sleeping anymore.
Around two a.m., he gives up and gets out of bed. The entire house is quiet, almost eerily.
He walks out into the main room, the only light coming from the microwave attached to the wall above the stove. Harry walks down the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible to not wake Niall, but then he notices that the door to the guest bedroom is open and Niall is nowhere to be seen.
Something drops in Harry’s stomach, until he hears something outside the back door.
Harry heads further down the hallway and carefully opens the back door that leads out into their little garden and patch of grass.
Niall’s sitting there on the concrete steps and he jumps slightly when Harry comes out.
“Can’t sleep?” Harry says almost as a rhetorical question.
“The bed’s—”
“Too soft?” Harry says sitting down beside Niall.
“Yeah…” Niall pulls his knees in, wrapping his arms around his legs before he settles his chin in between his knobby knees.
They sit there listening to the bugs making their weird little bug noises while a light breeze ruffles the leaves on their flowering plum tree.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” Niall says softly. “Being back here…I feel like I don’t know where to go or what to do.” Niall’s fingers press into his skin like he’s trying to keep himself from leaving. “Before, when we’d come home on leave, I always knew what we were doing next; we’d get to spend some time together and then we’d have to go back, but now, I feel like my entire life is in front of me and aside from being with you, I never gave much thought as to what I was going to do.” Niall sighs softly and rubs his face. “God, Harry…” he pauses. “We were so young when we got engaged.”
Harry’s stomach plummets; he doesn’t like where this conversation is going. He wants to hold onto Niall. He doesn’t want to lose him, but he also doesn’t want to suffocate Niall either. The question burning in Harry’s mind, is something he needs to know, but at the same time, he might not like the answer to. “So, where does that leave us?”
Niall’s breathing is soft yet static. “I don’t know,” he finally says. “I think it’d be best if we didn’t jump right back into things. Maybe give each other some space for a little bit, while we get situated here.”
“I can stay with my mum, I suppose.”
Niall laughs. “Not that much space, Hazza.” He looks over at Harry with lightness in his eyes. “We were friends first, yeah? Maybe that’s where we start. I feel like if we try to push this then it’s going to burst. I know I still love you…I know I don’t want to lose you.”
“I don’t want to lose you either.”
Niall gives him a soft smile.
Harry hopes like hell that Niall’s plan will work. A little bit of space might do them good. They can both figure out what they’re going to do now.
“Take two,” Niall mumbles standing up and offering a hand to Harry. “Never gonna get used to sleepin’ in a proper bed if we don’t try.”
Harry takes Niall’s hand. The two of them go back inside the house and to their separate rooms.
Harry lies in the bed, staring at the ceiling for what feels like forever. He rolls over, looks down at the floor, and sighs before he grabs his pillow, pulls the duvet off the bed and crawls onto the floor. A proper bed will have to wait.
Harry wakes up to knocking at their front door. It’s incessant and annoying, which tells him exactly who it is.
He pulls himself up off the floor and walks out to the living room where he sees Niall curled up with a blanket, sitting in the corner by the kitchen counters.
“What happened to a proper bed?” Harry says casually as he goes to unlock the front door.
“Didn’t work out,” Niall says as he throws the blanket on the floor as he stands.
Harry laughs, shaking his head as he opens the door.
“Good morning!” Nick sings out and he’s lucky that there’s still a screen door between him and Harry otherwise Harry would probably strangle him.
“What’re you doing here?” Harry says walking over to the couch.
Nick sighs, letting himself in through the screen door. “I don’t see you for almost a year, and that’s the greeting I get?” Nick looks at Niall then Harry. “You both look like shite.”
“And you wonder why there’s no warm welcome,” Niall mutters, walking into the kitchen.
“We’re just getting used to having actual beds,” Harry says.
“Not that either of us used them,” Niall says under his breath and Harry looks over at him. “You’ve got the pattern of the carpet in our bedroom going up your arms and legs.”
“Fair enough.” Harry turns back toward Nick. “So, why are you here so bloody early.”
“Harold, I host a morning radio show, early is relative.” Nick makes a vague gesture. “I came by to see you,” he says pinching Harry’s cheek. “And the little leprechaun, of course,” Nick says a little louder looking over at Niall, who flips him off.
“Anyway, I didn’t get to go to the little party they threw last night for you lot coming home. Got stuck at my mother’s, so I thought I’d come by after the show this morning. So how are things? Good to be home, I suspect?”
Harry shrugs. “Little weird, I guess.” He glances over his shoulder at Niall, who has his back to them. “Just trying to figure things out. Get reacquainted with everything. Trying to take things slow.”
“Sounds boring,” Nick quips.
Niall puts the kettle on the stove top and then disappears into the back room.
Harry looks back at Nick, whose face has fallen as he gives Harry a knowing look.
“That have anything to do with figuring things out and taking things slow?”
Harry sighs, running a hand through his short hair. “It’s all a bit different now. We’re still young, but the last four years…it’s just going to take some time trying to conflate who we were before, with who we were during, and who we want to be.”
“So, not something you can fix with some dirty sex, then?”
Harry shakes his head. “He wants space and time, so that’s what I’m gonna give him.”
Four days later, not much has changed. Harry and Niall still sleep in separate rooms, neither of them sleeping in an actual bed, but they’ve both been trying to hide that little fact. Trying to pretend like things are getting better; like things are getting easier.
It’s more like the opposite is happening. Niall’s woken up Harry in the middle of the night, shouting in his sleep. Harry’s woken up Niall, every time he tries to leave the house in the middle of the night either to sit outside or go for a walk after not being able to sleep.
Harry wakes up to someone kicking his foot and if the chill in the air is anything to go by, he’s not inside.
He cracks an eye open and sees Liam standing over him with a curious look on his face. Harry rubs his eyes and feels the way the porch railing and the ribbed siding dig into his back.
“When they told us to watch out for each other for weird behavior, is sleeping outside on your porch considered weird behavior?” Liam cocks an eyebrow, putting out a hand for Harry to take.
He lifts Harry off the floor with hardly any effort.
“Went for a walk, must’ve fallen asleep when I got back,” Harry brushes off his sweatpants. “What are you doing over here so early anyway?”
“Mate, it’s almost ten,” Liam says casually. “Just wanted to come by and see how things were going.”
“Things are fine,” Harry says. He starts walking toward the front door, but Liam doesn’t follow him. Harry turns.
“Thought we could go for a walk,” Liam says solemnly.
Harry nods and instead, walks down the front steps with Liam following behind him.
“So, what’s up?” Harry asks tentatively looking over at Liam.
Liam buries his hands in his pockets. “Murs and Winston are going back, few of the others as well.” Liam stares at the ground. “I felt bad leavin’, ya know? After what happened to Louis.”
Harry nods. He knows full well how awful that whole situation felt.
“I just…I’ve been thinking about it, maybe longer than I’d like to admit.” Liam stops and reaches out for Harry’s wrist to stop him. “I’m going back, Hazza. I can’t stay here knowing that Lou is over there by himself.”
It feels like Liam’s punched Harry in the gut. He doesn’t want to be home without Liam…it won’t be home without Liam. “I’ll go with you,” he says quickly. “Niall and I, we can put things on hold and we can go back with you.”
“Harry, no,” Liam says sternly. “You and Niall…things might be rough right now, but the two of you need to stay here, get back to being together…get back to being in love with each other. You’ve put your lives on hold long enough for this stupid war. It’s about time you lads actually get to be together.” Liam sighs. “I can’t be here without Lou…he’s my best friend, Harry.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Harry says sadly. “But I understand, I suppose.”
“The British Army screwed Lou over, I’m just going there to bring him back, is all.” Liam laughs.
Harry tries to smile, but he instead finds himself wrapping his arms around Liam. “You’ll come back in one piece, yeah?”
Liam nods. “Absolutely.”
“I can tell Niall if you want me to.” Harry steps back, looking at Liam.
Liam shakes his head. “If he doesn’t take it well, I don’t want you to be on the receiving end of it. He hasn’t been himself lately.”
“He’s angry,” Harry says looking at the ground. “He doesn’t know who he’s supposed to be without the army.”
“I haven’t been sleeping either, Harry,” Liam says in what he thinks is supposed to be a comforting way. “It’s all gonna take some time.”
The pain rushes through him. He stares up at the sky and can see the muzzle flashes overhead. He brings his hand to his shoulder. It’s wet and sticky. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust before he sees the red blood covering his fingertips.
It’s like everything is happening all at once and in slow motion at the same time. He knows he needs to move. Knows he needs to find cover.
Harry crawls across the dirt; pulling himself with his right arm toward an opening in the wall that leads to a small courtyard.
He can still hear his name. Shouting over and over.
He leans against the wall, his hand keeping pressure on the wound. Everything inside him feels empty. There’s too much blood.
A noise comes from the other side of the open space and Harry draws his side arm in time to shoot the hostile running toward him with his own gun drawn.
Two in the chest.
“Harry!”
His eyes are foggy. More men come from across the court yard. He fires. Again. Again. Again. Until the click of an empty magazine all but signs his death warrant.
Harry tries to get to his feet, drawing his knife instead.
He’s tackled to the ground. Hands tight around his neck. Glass breaks. He can’t breathe.
Harry wakes. Jolting up from the floor. His mind is all over the place. His shirt and pants are wet with sweat as his heart races. He hears glass breaking. He tries to push it out of his mind. Tries to calm himself down, until he realizes that he wasn’t imagining the sound, but that the sound was coming from out in the living room.
Harry pulls himself up.
Niall’s yelling. He can’t quite make it out, but he knows it’s Niall and that things are being thrown about.
Harry goes to the door listening for a moment, unsure of whether he really wants to go out there and face whatever is happening. He turns the knob and the door creaks open.
Niall’s in the living room. The lamp, and the end table that the lamp was on are on the floor. Ceramic and glass shards scatter the floor.
“We’re never gonna make it out of here!” Niall yells, pushing his hands through his hair and Harry sees that Niall is holding a knife. “They left us here!” Niall cries. His face and eyes are red. “He’s gonna die…” he says in a more somber tone.
“Niall?” Harry says gently.
Niall jumps at the sound of Harry’s voice, turning quickly with the knife raised.
“I don’t wanna die…” Niall says pointing the knife at Harry.
“I know… Niall, I know. Okay, but they came back for us, Niall.” Harry moves a little closer to him. “We waited it out and they came back for us. Hemmings was fine. We got him back in time.”
“No!” Niall shouts. “They said they’d be back in one hour, but they aren’t coming back!” Niall turns, pacing in front of the couch. “We have to barricade the windows.” Niall starts moving the couch toward the window, sliding it through the broken pieces of the lamp.
“Niall, we’re back home. We’re not in Afghanistan anymore,” Harry says softly.
“They’re coming for us.” Niall frantically starts throwing the discarded end table and then the coffee table toward the window breaking picture frames, still holding onto the knife. “We can’t stay here!” Niall starts moving toward the door and Harry takes his chance while Niall’s back is too him, to grab him firmly from behind, but Niall turns and Harry ducks just in time for Niall to miss him with the knife. “We have to get out of here!” Niall’s attention goes back to the door.
“Niall, no!” Harry grabs Niall, tighter this time. Bending Niall’s wrist until he finally lets go of the knife.
“We have to get out of here!” Niall screams, fighting against Harry.
Harry gets his arms around Niall and they fall to the ground.
“Let me go! They’re gonna get us!”
“Niall, it’s okay,” Harry whispers. He wraps his legs around Niall to keep him from kicking but that doesn’t keep him from elbowing Harry in the ribs over and over, and then Niall butts him in the nose with the back of his head.
Harry almost lets go. The pain in his face and side is overwhelming but he can’t let Niall leave the house. Not like this. If Niall’s going to hurt someone, it’s going to be Harry and not a civilian.
“It’s okay, Niall.” Harry holds Niall tight. He can already see the blood from his nose on Niall’s white shirt. “You’re home. You’re with me. It’s okay…”
“We’re gonna die,” Niall cries. His efforts to get away diminish.
“It’s okay,” Harry repeats. “You’re home. I’m right here. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Harry’s muscles are tired, his body hurts, but he doesn’t let go of Niall, they both just lie there in the darkness of the living room, bloody and tired on the floor.
He feels Niall’s heartrate go down, feels him lose the tension running through his body. It’s only then that he lets go and rolls onto his back.
Niall stays there for a while until he crawls over and sits, leaning up against the wall.
“H-Harry?” Niall chokes out.
Red and blue flashing lights come in through the front window.
Harry sits up looking over toward where Niall sits terrified and broken against the wall.
“It’s okay.” Harry gets up and goes over to pull the chair and the end table off of the couch. He moves the furniture back to their general places before he goes over and helps Niall off the floor and onto the couch, careful not to step in the shards from the lamp.
There’s a loud knock at the front door.
Harry breathes in and out slowly, when Niall’s hand reaches up and grabs his wrist when he goes to take a step forward.
“It’s okay. I promise,” Harry says managing a smile before Niall drops his grip.
They knock again, when Harry finally opens the door.
Two officers stand there, one with a flashlight that he’s shining in Harry’s face. “There was a call about a domestic disturbance.”
“Everything’s under control here,” Harry says. He knows they see right through the lie. Not too many people come to the door at three in the morning with a bloody and bruised nose.
“We’re going to have to insist that we come in, Sir,” the other officer says.
Harry nods and moves out of the way for the officers to come in. He flips a switch by the door which makes the overhead light come on.
The room looks a lot worse in the light and so does Niall.
“Neighbors reported yelling and what sounded like things being thrown about.” The officer looks down at the floor where the debris from the lamp covers the floor.
“Like I said, everything’s under control,” Harry repeats himself with a little more grit to his voice.
The other officer circles around toward the door and bends over. “Then what’s this?” he says holding up the knife.
“One of you is going to have to start talking unless you want to go downtown.”
There’s a moment where they’re all just looking at each other waiting for someone to speak.
“It was me,” Niall says softly. “I thought that I was somewhere else. Harry was just trying to get me to calm down.”
“With a knife?”
Niall looks at the officer staring daggers at the man. “I had the knife,” he says with a bit of bite to his tone.
“It’s over. It’s done with. It won’t happen again,” Harry says looking between the two officers.
The officers look at each other.
“We better not be called back out here,” the officer says sternly.
The two officers go to the door. They both look back at Niall and Harry one more time before they exit.
Harry quickly closes the door and locks it.
“Harry?” Niall looks over at him from the couch.
“Niall, they told us stuff like this might happen,” Harry says softly. “We just have to get used to being back here is all.”
“I could’ve killed you.”
“No, you couldn’t’ve,” Harry says.
“You’re face—”
“Niall, please don’t overthink this,” Harry sighs. “You didn’t mean to do any of this. I’m the one that put myself in that situation. You didn’t come into our bedroom and try to kill me in my sleep. You thought you were back on a crap mission that left us stranded in a crap little basement while we waited for reinforcements. That’s it. And aside from some rearranging some furniture and a bloody nose, nothing’s different.” Harry watches Niall looking for any sort of change in his headspace. “Just try to get some sleep, yeah?”
Niall gives a slow nod before he gets up and walks slowly toward the other room.
Harry goes to the hall closet and get the broom and dustpan to sweep up the broken shards on the floor. He picks up the tactical knife and brings it with him back into the bedroom.
He shoves the knife into the top drawer of the dresser before he goes into the bathroom. He flicks on the light and examines himself in the bathroom mirror.
There’s blood all down the front of him. He lifts his shirt over his head and sets it on the sink. Bruises are already starting to form on his side, but he tries to ignore all of it as he tries to clean himself up as best he can. He just wants to go back to sleep. Not that sleep has been very good lately.
Harry tries not to be mad at Niall. He knows that it could’ve easily have been him instead. The dreams he has about being back in combat feel real. They feel like he’s living them over again.
He gets a new shirt and pants before he goes back to the floor. He hates that he keeps saying that it will take some time to get back to normal. He doesn’t know how long that will actually take and he’s terrified that it won’t happen for Niall or himself. That they’ll be caught in an endless cycle of skirting around each other, waking each other up in the middle of the night, and lying to each other about the possibility of things ever getting better.
“You look like shite,” Nick says when Harry lets him into the house. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me the last couple days? What the hell happened?”
Harry goes to sit down to put his shoes on. “Niall had an episode of some sort…”
“And he wacked you in the nose?” Nick laughs.
“He thought he was in Afghanistan. The police showed up. Everything’s fine.”
“Well, Harold, if that’s your version of decent storytelling, I’ve got to tell you that you really need to work on it.” Nick sits on the couch and looks at the empty space on top of the end table. “Didn’t there used to be a lamp there?”
“Yes,” Harry says harshly.
Nick gives a quick nod in understanding; clearly Harry doesn’t want to talk about it.
“So where is the little ball of sunshine anyway?”
“He’s out with Liam.”
“And you didn’t go with?”
Harry stands and goes to the door and Nick gets the hint and follows him.
“Niall needed to get out of the house for a bit and Liam wanted to talk to him.”
Harry locks the door before they set out. The nice part about this town is that, for the most part, they can walk pretty much anywhere, the downside, as shown the other night is that the neighbors are always up in each other’s business.
The night air is refreshing, and Harry has to admit that he was looking for a reason to leave the house as well, so when Nick called and suggested they go to the pub, he agreed.
When they get there, the pub relatively empty for it being a Tuesday night.
“Gentlemen!” Bressie calls from behind the bar where he’s unloading some boxes. “What can I get for ya?”
“Two pints to start, Brez,” Harry says taking a seat at the bar.
Bressie pours the beers and sets them in front of them. “You being here actually reminds me,” Bressie says, wiping his hands on a rag before he’s coming out from behind the bar. “Gotta keep up on this thing.” Bressie goes over to a set of bulletin boards with pictures tacked to them.
The pictures are of all the guys from the town in active military. There’s a section for those who are home, those who are overseas, and those killed in action.
Harry picks up his drink and follows Bressie over to the boards.
He sees their pictures in the overseas section and Bressie slowly starts unpinning them and putting them over into the home section.
“Might as well leave Liam’s,” Harry says taking a drink.
“What?” Nick says coming up behind him.
“That’s what Liam had to talk to Niall about…he’s already explained it all to me,” Harry shrugs.
“Liam’s going back?” Bressie says pausing at Liam’s picture. “Why the hell would he do that?”
“He’s extending his tour. Doesn’t want to leave Tommo there by himself.”
“Shite.” Bressie hands fall from the board and he leaves Liam’s photo next to Louis’. “Barely got you lads back this time around and he just goes and reups just like that?”
“He’s been thinking about it for a while,” Harry says trying to justify Liam’s decision, but even though he offered to go back with him, Harry doesn’t want to go back. He never wants to go back. “Besides, with the way things are going, I doubt we’ll be over there much longer.”
Bressie put up the pictures of Niall and Harry under the home portion. It doesn’t even feel real to Harry. It hasn’t really felt like home, but more like someone else’s memory of home.
Harry goes back to the bar.
“You’re staying put, right?” Bressie asks as if the possibility just hit him.
Harry nods. “I have no desire to go back to that place. We should’ve never gone back this last time around, but the army sends us where the army sends us,” Harry says solemnly, taking a sip from his pint.
Bressie and Nick share a worried look, but neither of them say anything more on the subject.
“So, how’s the little one?” Bressie asks a few minutes later after helping another man at the end of the bar.
“He’s finally gotten jealous of Harry’s good looks and decided to take it upon himself to do some facial rearranging,” Nick says jauntily.
“Niall did that?” Bressie says gesturing to the bruise that now spreads from Harry’s nose to around his left eye.
“He didn’t mean to,” Harry says with a shrug.
“He have an episode? Start yelling at furniture? Using the kitchen table as a blockade?” Bressie rambles off.
“Living room couch, actually.” Harry stares down at the wooden bar.
Bressie shakes his head. “Honestly, there’s gotta be something everyone’s missing. They just send us back into the ‘real world’ and expect us to just fall into line with the civilian population.”
“Says the Irish pub owner,” Nick chuckles.
“Yeah, the Irish pub owner who almost burned down the pub when he thought he was surrounded and there was no other way out,” Bressie bites back.
“They told us to watch out for each other, but I didn’t know that would entail my fiancé coming after me with a knife.” Harry downs the rest of his pint, while the other two stare at him.
“You definitely left that part out of the story,” Nick chides.
Harry shrugs. “He woke me up from a dream I was having from when I got shot, so maybe it was for the best.” Harry pushes his empty glass across the bar for Bressie to refill it. “And if he hadn’t lost it first, I probably would’ve… might not happen to far down the line, actually.”
“None of us are losing it,” Bressie says. “To the general public, yeah, it all seems a bit crazy, but if they lived through that shite, they’d be coming after their fiancés with knives too.”
“That’s extremely reassuring, Mr. Breslin.” Nick finishes his pint.
“I set the alarm for seven a.m. already,” Harry says from the couch.
Niall stands in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. “What for?”
“I wanted to see Liam off since he’s spending tonight with his family. Bus is supposed to leave at eight so that gives us enough time to get down there.” Harry leans his head against the back of the couch. “I can’t believe he’s going back.”
“Why didn’t you try talking him out of it then?” Niall gets out their orange and green mugs from the cupboard.
“I trust him,” Harry says.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Harry picks up his head, looking over at Niall. “I trust that he’s going to come back…with Louis. I don’t exactly go to church on a regular basis, but I have faith that Louis and Liam are coming home.” Harry tries reading the look on Niall’s face, but he’s not sure where Niall’s mind is going. “What about you? Why didn’t you try to get him to stay?”
Niall looks guilty in that moment. He can’t look at Harry. “I dunno,” he shrugs. “I guess we all had our reasons for signing up in the first place, so I think that now, we have more autonomy over our decisions to stay or go back, which means that if Liam thought it was a good idea, he has the experience to back up that decision.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Harry says turning back to the TV. He’s been trying to watch it for a while now but can’t seem to really commit to the program.
Niall comes over a few minutes later, handing Harry his green mug and sitting down on the couch next him.
Harry can feel Niall’s eyes on him, like Niall wants to say something to him but either doesn’t really want to or doesn’t know how.
Harry sips on his tea. He loves how perfect it is. Niall could always make it the way he liked it better than he could.
“Harry?” Niall says quietly.
Harry watches him as he sets down his tea, so he does the same. Niall gets off the couch and situates himself between Harry’s legs, kneeling on the floor in front of him.
Niall’s eyes are sad but hopeful at the same time. He rests his hands on Harry’s thighs. His fingertips are delicate against the black denim of Harry’s jeans.
Goosebumps run up Harry’s back. He feels like it’s been forever since Niall’s touched him.
Niall reaches his hand up, brushing is thumb along the fading bruise under Harry’s eye. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
“I know…” Harry leans into Niall’s touch, placing his own hand over Niall’s.
“I love you, Harry…and I always will,” Niall says before he leans in and kisses Harry.
God, Harry missed kissing Niall. He falls into it almost immediately. All of his thoughts and worries of the last two weeks fall away and it’s like they are back to being kids again. Grabbing at each other, pulling each other as close as they possibly can, kissing until they absolutely have to come up for air.
Niall grabs the remote and turns off the TV behind him without missing a beat and soon enough he’s pulling Harry off the couch and leading them into their bedroom.
Niall falls on top of Harry on the bed, straddling his legs, unbuttoning Harry’s shirt.
It’s all awkward and needy and fun as they try to get their clothes off. Getting stuck in too-tight jeans. Shirts stuck on ID tags.
Niall’s hand slides up Harry’s chest until his fingers brush over the gold ring on the same chain as his tags. “Whatever happens,” Niall says softly. “Don’t take it off.”
Harry nods and Niall bends down and kisses him even more intent than before.
They’re lost in each other and Harry can feel his heart racing. He’s naked and exposed and at the same time he’s never felt safer. He’s with Niall. He’s with him through the awkwardness and the release. The feeling of being physically together after being apart for so long. Harry never wants it to end. Even when they’ve finished and they’re tired, Harry wants to lie there with the warmth of Niall lying next to him for the rest of his life. He knows he wants to be with Niall for the rest of his life and he never wants them to leave this bed.
Harry wakes up in the morning. His first time waking up in a proper bed since they got back. He feels the softness of the sheets against his bare skin. He can’t help but smile. He rolls over, but the bed is empty next to him.
“Niall?” Harry calls out. He looks around the room, listening for any movement out in the living room or kitchen. “Niall?” Harry sits up and looks at the clock on the nightstand. It’s 8:15. “Liam…shit!” Harry jumps out of bed and grabs whatever clothes he can. He’s dressed in seconds and he’s practically falling out of the room. “Niall!” he calls out again.
Harry fumbles to put on his boots when he sees it. There’s a slip of paper sitting on the kitchen counter.
H,
I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for what I’m doing right now. I knew you’d never let me go back, so this was the only way I could do it. I want to be with you, but I don’t think I’m meant to live a normal life. I’ll make sure that Louis and Liam get back to you safe. Don’t wait for me, Harry, I’m not coming back.
Love,
-Nialler
Harry stands there frozen for a moment before he’s running out the front door. He doesn’t bother to close or lock the door, he just runs. His chest hurts and his feet ache in his boots, but he keeps running until he gets to the corner bus stop. There’s not a bus or a person in uniform in sight.
“Niall…” Harry breathes out.
His head spins and for a moment it doesn’t feel real. It feels like one of his nightmares and he’ll wake up any second.
“Harry?”
Harry turns around and sees Bressie standing there.
“He’s gone,” Harry says.
“Harry, it’s alright,” Bressie says gently. “Liam will come back. He—”
“Not Liam,” Harry’s throat is raw and dry. “Niall…Niall left. He went back.”
“Maybe it’s only for a few months,” Bressie says, sitting across the table from him. The pub’s closed but Bressie didn’t think it would be good for Harry to be alone. “You said it yourself, they might be done over there anyway.”
“He told me not to wait for him. He’s not coming back,” Harry says knocking back other pint. “Even if they do pull out, he’s not coming back. He’s done with me.”
“I don’t think that could ever be true.” Bressie sits back in his chair. “He’s been in love with you since you were nine.”
“People fall out of love all the time,” Harry says flatly.
Bressie shakes his head. “Not people that are truly in love.” He leans back and rests his forearms on the table. “You lads are still young. He’s just trying to figure out what he wants to do and for him that meant going back to something he already knew until he could figure that out.”
“If he was doing this just until he figured things out then he could’ve talked to me about it. I would’ve gone back with him. All he had to do was talk to me, but instead he just took off.” He watches the condensation drip down the empty glass in front of him. “Maybe it’s best that he doesn’t come back,” Harry mumbles.
Bressie gives him a sad look that says that he hopes Harry doesn’t mean that, but maybe a piece of him understands.
Harry gets up from his seat.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bressie says. He stands as if he’s ready to tackle Harry if he tries to leave.
“I’m going home.”
“Harry, you shouldn’t be alone,” Bressie says in a sad tone.
“I’ll call Gemma or Nick, when I get back, Brez. I promise.” Harry looks back at Bressie. He knows that Bressie is just trying to be there for him. He’s practically like a brother to Niall and he knows this must hurt him as much as it hurts Harry. “Don’t forget to change the board,” Harry says gesturing toward the bulletin board with all their pictures on it. “I’ll see you later, Brez.”
When Harry gets back to the house he goes straight to the cupboard next to the sink and pulls out a bottle of whiskey. He tosses the cap on the counter and takes a sip. He can feel the burn of the alcohol run down his throat.
He walks over, standing just outside their bedroom, staring at the bed. Taking drink after drink, he stares at the bed, while the anger boils up in side of him.
He sets the bottle down on the floor next to the open door and walks inside.
He had hope last night. Hope that things with Niall were getting better. That they could be happy together…for as long as they were together.
Harry shoves his hands under the mattress and flips it over hard enough that it knocks the alarm clock onto the floor before it hits with a thud against the dresser. The nightstand goes next. Then the clothes from the closet. Then the clothes from the dresser after he pushes the mattress, making it land against the windows, bending the blinds.
Harry goes back out to the living room and grabs the bottle of whiskey off the counter and chugs it. He doesn’t put it down until he feels like he’s going to puke.
He sets the bottle down again.
The couch, the chair, the end tables. Everything reminds him of Niall. Everything has to go.
The end table is the first to go. Niall already broke the lamp that sat on it so, there’s really no point in having the end table anymore. Harry beats it against the ground. Hit after hit as it slowly falls apart.
And when everything no longer looks the way it used to, Harry picks up the whiskey bottle and collapses on the floor, leaning against the kitchen counter.
He misses Niall and hates him at the same time. Harry gave Niall what he wanted; time and space, but Niall couldn’t see it ever working. A seven-year relationship went down the toilet the moment Niall decided to leave. The moment that he could no longer see himself being with Harry in the future.
His body aches and Harry’s unbelievably tired.
The man’s grip tightens around Harry’s throat. The man’s face is covered other than his eyes. Crow’s-feet at the outer corners, heavy, dark bags underneath his dark stare.
He doesn’t look scared. Not the way that Harry feels. The man looks intent to kill him. His grip growing tighter around Harry’s neck.
His vision goes blurry, but he doesn’t stop trying to fight the man off. Pushing and pulling at him, trying anything for the man to let go.
“Niall…” Harry chokes out as black patches fill his eyesight.
And then the pressure is gone…