all but you || h.s. || a.u.

n e u f

n e u f

Nixie Cage

It’s been a few weeks since the incident between Harry and I, our first almost kiss. I had adapted to the concept that I will never, in fact, gain Harry’s full attention with Maureen still in his care. Competing with a girl, no, woman who was connected to his life before I even existed couldn’t result in anything but a disaster. Lately, I haven’t maintained a full conversation with him, and I don’t plan to in the near future.

As I pushed the thoughts of him aside, I turned my attention to the real problem at hand: Who was I to Zayn? Although he always hung in my thoughts while I hung out with his friends, we never really talked about the kiss we almost had, or the way he looked at me at certain times of the day. I even doodled his name a few times in my notebook.

Zayn

+

Nixie

It has a ring to it, yeah?

“Mr. Styles, this is the fourth time this week you have been late to my class,” Mr. Fletcher’s voice cut through my daydream, and  hit me back to reality. He had his finger in Harry’s face, pointing towards his nose with pure anger. “If you are late once more, you will get detention.”

Assumingly, this threat did nothing because this was his fourth time saying that. “I know, I know.” Harry replied, shaking his head with frustration, and annoyance. “I won’t be late anymore.”

I wonder why he is late all the time. Was it because of Maureen? She was truly taking control of his life. How were they connected? Why are they even connected in the first place?

“Am I really that late?” I turned my head to face where the voice came from that interrupted my inner investigation, and it was no other than the person I was forming questions from, Harry.

“Yeah, we only have ten minutes left,” He checked his watch on his arm, then tilted his head to the side with a shrug as if he didn’t care at all.

“Well, at least, I’m here,” He shook off his words, then leaned back in his chair. I wanted to slam my hands on the desk, and ask him more questions as to why he was always late, but he would just dodge them or not answer them at all.

“Yeah,” I simply put it, shifting my attention from him to Mr. Fletcher’s debate on the Renaissance.

+

“Mr. Styles, you better straighten up with your grades,” Mr. Fletcher had stopped Harry on the way out the class, and began to argue with him, but Harry’s expression was unaffected. He still remained careless. “You need at least a C on the next test to ensure that you pass my class.”

Harry’s smirk from his face faded once he understood the damage that he had done to his grade in the class thus far. I stood beside the door casually waiting for Valerie to leave the art room with Zayn, but I happened to overhear the problem.

Following his statement, Harry looked at Mr. Fletcher then nodded as he took in a sharp breath of annoyance. I watched his expression carefully, then as soon as he came for the door, I pretend that what I heard was oblivious.