The Weekend (Narry)

dó dhéag

We're all bored, we're all so tired of everything / We wait for trains that just aren't coming / We show off our different scarlet letters / Trust me, mine is better
'New Romantics' by Taylor Swift

Harry and Niall manage to recruit one of Ainsley's girlfriends to drive them to the train station. She's a nice woman, a simple gold band around her ring finger and her hair in a messy ponytail. Two minutes into the drive, and they realize she talks an awful lot.

The drive is a short one, but full of conversation. Willa (that's her name) asks an abundance of questions- names? ages? hometowns? favorite colors? favorite pastimes? what are they doing around here? why are they going to Dublin? don't they just love this song? have they had enough to eat? will they get more to eat? did they have fun at the party? did they mind all the kids? do they like kids?

Those sorts of questions.

Niall happily answers all of them, and Harry answers too. Nothing of substance is said and all of their answers are scrunched into three word replies. Willa doesn't leave much room for anything else.

When they reach the train station, Niall and Harry thank her for driving. Harry gives her cash for the ride, but she refuses to take it. Niall doesn't let him press her further, grabbing Harry by his backpack strap and pulling him into the station. The sudden urgency on Niall's part annoys Harry. Harry has been attempting to get to Dublin quickly all day, and now that it's dark outside Niall seems to think he should finally start caring too. It's frustrating, in Harry's opinion. He speaks up about it.

"I go slow, and you're angry. I go fast. You're still angry." Niall says. "Overall, I think you're just an angry person."

Harry doesn't deem that sentence worthy of a response and instead makes his way toward the train time tables on the wall. He looks for the word 'Dublin' and almost screams at what he finds.

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Niall repeats.

"The next train to Dublin doesn't come until tomorrow."

"Looks like we better find a place to sleep for the night." Niall muses. "I am not walking, and you cannot make me."

Harry bites the inside of his cheek and nods once. "Fine. We didn't pass any hotels, and I'm sure there aren't any, seeing as Main Street consisted of fifteen buildings and a park."

"You're in Ireland, Tourist. We'll get a B&B."

"You sure?" Harry asks, looking at Niall skeptically.

"Promise." Niall looks back at him.

"Okay, we can do that then." Harry readjusts his backpack on his shoulders, and Niall picks up Harry's luggage for him.

"Might want to take the time to call your husband," he says. "By the way."

"Oh," Harry nods. "Right."