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

4

Orange flames danced together, legs licking up one another’s body and hands dissolving into each other. It changed from orange to yellow to rust to white throughout its body. The fire spat sharp sparks out at its surroundings. It was delicate yet fierce. The head that radiated from the bundle of flames was overwhelming at times, giving the false illusion that it was not dangerous at all. The random melody of its crackling was warm and comforting inside Harry’s ears. The fire was his friend, he deduced, as he became entranced by it.

It may not have been obvious in Harry’s everyday lifestyle, but Harry did have quite a few friends. During the week, he never had the time or the energy to invest some ‘quality time’ with anyone other than the few who lived around the beach. The ones who were gathered around the campfire with him were his closest friends. That was not to say that Lou, Tom and Lux, and Nick and Caroline (she co-owned the surf shop with Nick, but had been away in Hawaii checking out the surf carnival. She was like a big sister to Harry, except for that one time that they ended up pissed out of their minds in the back of his van and having a quickie, but that doesn’t get mentioned anymore.) were not close to him, because they were, but they just were not always on the same wavelength as him.

Next to Harry was Liam. Or more so zaynandliam, seeing as Zayn had sprawled himself over Liam’s lap and they were currently attached by a, rather passionate, lip-lock. Liam was only really Harry’s friend as a by-product of Zayn, but that did not mean that he was any less appreciated. With Zayn, came Liam. With Liam, came Zayn. That was just how it was. Harry had always had a soft spot for Liam; he seemed to bring out only the best in Zayn. Harry had not known Zayn for long before he and Liam got together, but Liam had changed the other boy a lot, for the better, of course. He was just so gentle and calming and had that feel about him which made you want to wrap him up in a blanket and serve him hot chocolate all day.

Zayn was the first main friend that Harry made when he moved to the coast. At first, Harry was a little stricken by his attitude, or at least his external attitude. Somehow, they had found a connection and, as they say, the rest is history. Harry loved Zayn; he was exactly what he needed. He was laidback, eccentric, sarcastic and a little bit moody. But somehow, he was still extremely caring and loving. He did not give a damn when Harry snapped at him or was an hour late to their pub date; he just took it all in his stride. Harry both envied and admired Zayn’s perspective on life. It was easy to get caught up in and impossible to get out of. Thankfully, Harry did not want to escape that world just yet.

The pair of them had recently moved closer to the city so that Liam could get a higher paying job and Zayn could expand his skateboarding shop. It was never confirmed, but rumour had it that Zayn’s father was extremely wealthy before he died and that Zayn had inherited most of his money. This, therefore, made the ease of Zayn being able to support his, relatively unsuccessful as of yet, business much more understandable. He would always slyly offer Harry the amount to fix his damaged board or the equivalent to ten cubes of board wax in cash, but Harry always refused. Regardless of how much money Zayn had stored away, he was not going to take any of it. He moved away by himself and he would continue by himself.

Usually, Niall would be lounging around on the sand by the campfire. The Irish lad, however, had about as much sense of time as Caspar had energy: little to none. For some reason, nobody cared that the boy was always late. It was just his ‘thing’. His personality made up for it. Whenever he stepped through the, metaphorical, doors, he would practically fill the room. He was always bright and bubbly and hardly ever upset. That, of course, did have its downside because he could never really be serious. Harry always wondered what went on in Niall’s brain; he assumed it was a complete mess up there if his random spoken thoughts had anything to do with it. He asked once, but all he got in reply was ‘tits and shit’. But like was said before, it was Niall so nobody gave a flying fuck.