Cloud 9

[C]loud 1

**

I angrily grunted, two hours. Two whole hours, that's a hundred and twenty minutes, which concludes seven thousand two hundred seconds. That's how long the train ride over was to Doncaster. Doncaster was where Louis was. And if I detoured, which was another added two hours or less either way, I could maybe make it to Zayn's place in Bradford.

My heart seemed to be never endingly pounding, a deep and slow constricted pain in my chest and that little fact seemed to annoy the hell out of me. I took a well deserved deep breath, staring around my room as I tried to calm away the paranoia that was seeping in again and weighing me down. 

Everything here was familiar and I knew it all so well, yet it wasn't. I wasn't used to this life anymore, it was the past and I had wanted it to remain that way. It was a fun time, I loved it- but I didn't belong here anymore. 

I scowled, as my mind wandered, if I wanted to go to Wolverhampton to Liam it was possibly an hour ride in the other absolute direction. My fists clenched as I thought about the distance to Niall all the way in Ireland.

I wondered painfully if any of them would remember me. I lifted my hand to my head, fisting my curls in distress. Of course they wouldn't. How could they remember something that hasn't happened? 

I felt like I was undergoing a temporary insanity.

I realized that if I could maybe fly to Dublin, maybe then I'd get a chance to see him.

My eyes downcast as I remembered I didn't have that privilege anymore, travelling at whim. I didn't have the money, the resources- I didn't have the boys. I sat up, shoving whatever I needed into my bag pack as I threw it over my shoulder, running down the stairs.

"Harry?" She called, "-where you going love?"

I froze, turning to face my mother- my eyes still not used to seeing her this way. Her smile lines were less prominent, her hair shorter, her eyes tireder. I glanced away, unable to stare at her a second longer in fear of losing it.

"Out "I mumbled, focusing on my hands.

I spent the better half of the morning staring at myself, not in a weird vain way. I just looked rather odd for a gangly sixteen year old. With my mop of what I used to be proud of curls, my wide green uncultured eyes, my skin not painted with the tattoos' I'd soon be covered in. I just looked really different, so young, so inexperienced. It frightened me. She stared at me with a raised eyebrow and I smiled sheepishly before heading out the door.

"Be home soon"

**

I gripped my beanie in my right hand as I walked unsteadily up the familiar drive of the Tomlinson household. The train ride over was a mess, I was continuously fidgeting, sweating, and downright unmanageable. It was as if being unnoticed made me more paranoid than I should be, I kept having to remind myself it was a dream.

Or a memory.

Of something that hasn't happened yet. 

My forearm was ridden with bright red bruises, with the amount of times I'd attempted to pinch myself awake. It was like a second chance that would've been welcomed in any life than the one I had had. I didn't need one, I didn't need to relive those near four years again. 

I didn't.

I shakily knocked on the door, panicking slightly the second my fist left the wooden panel. I wondered where my self asserted confidence went. I nervously straightened my button up shirt, tapping my converse against the doorstep as my eyes flickered hesitantly around me.