And Now A Piece Of Me Is A Piece Of The Beach || larry stylinson

3

Harry balanced his weight carefully as he pressed down on the back of the board. He steered the board with painstaking care, wanting to catch the best wave that there had been that day. The wind was not fighting against itself so the waves were a little flat, something Harry did not appreciate. He had tried to catch some of the previous waves, but most broke too soon and gave him nothing to work with. Obviously, having surfed for years and years, Harry was used to days of having little surf to work with, but that did not reduce the frustration that they brought. He was desperate for a wild sea, a one which carried his board with clumsy fingers and a misguided mind.

In perfect Nick Grimshaw manner, however, the quiffed fellow was able to ride the small waves perfectly easily. Harry probably should have loathed the man’s guts for being so good at Harry’s favourite pastime, but he could never hate someone like Nick. Nick was- well, he was nick. There was not really a word that defined him, in Harry’s eyes, anyway. Most would probably say cocky, arrogant, sarcastic, moody, cheeky, flirty, whore etc. Not Harry, though. After all, the man did give him a job and basically start up his life again, along with Lou, so, really, he did not have the right to complain.

Unlike how in the films with the never-ending white stretches of sand and clear blue water, the pair did not really interact whilst surfing. Both agreed that it was more of a solitary sport than a social one, and did not feel the need to mess around. That did not mean that they did not have fun, because of course they did; they were doing the thing they both loved the most. There were a few splashes and head dunks, but it was a time for them both to make the most of the quiet business and the mind-overwhelming perfection of the waves.

Suddenly, Harry’s foot slipped and his whole body was dropped into the freezing water. Most of his body was covered by the skin tight wetsuit, but his head had no preparation for such a dramatic change in temperature. The ice cold water stunned his clear mind into a state of numbness, not letting anything in or out. The immediate change in density caused a slash of pain to strike from the base of his neck to the crown of his skull. On instinct, his eyes were squeezed tight shut and his breathing had cut off.  The lack of sensation was almost comforting to Harry, the burn feeling more than just a pleasurable pain.

He tried to stay under the surface until his lungs started to burn and his feelings started to leak back into his body. The way that his body wanted to rise up to the top, but Harry could hold himself down and go against his wishes was somewhat thrilling. But he did not have that much control, and that was the good thing. He could control when he left, but not what he felt. Something he could not often experience. Something he wanted to experience a lot more. He loved the lack of control that he could have over his body. He loved the way it acted upon instinct and made him feel whatever it needed to, whatever it wanted to. There were rushes of blood and streams of adrenaline. There was a numbness that hurt and could not be cured, that did not want to be cured. It was liberating. Internally, his body was going haywire, and Harry was infatuated with the feeling.

He surged out of the water, water splashing everywhere as he entered the world once more. His hair was plastered to his face, glued to his skin uncomfortably. There was an instant burn as the breeze bit his skin, his numb skin. His face was probably an unattractive shade of rose, but the heaving of his chest and the hard beating of his heart made up for it.

“You’ve really gotta stop doin’ that, H, for all I knew you were bloody drownin’ down there,” Harry heard.

He blinked rapidly to try and dissipate his blurred vision, not wanting to wipe his eyes with salt infected hands, to look at Nick. He had done it a fair few times when around Nick, and the first did not go down all too well. Now Nick was just used to it, and, fair enough, it probably was not safe, but Harry needed it and Nick understood that. Instead of replying properly, Harry just displayed that charming and cheeky grin of his, the one that melted Nick right at the very start of their friendship.