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

5

The waves had a certain magnificence that weekday afternoon. The tide was in and the sea seemed to go on for forever. After taking a break, bobbing in the middle of the sea with his legs on either side of his board and his bottom balanced on it, Harry was back to competing with the rolling waves. He loved being able to take the action out of his favourite pastime/career and just bask in it. He could float in the centre of his universe without a care in the world. He would be able to see for miles and miles, into the very depths of the sea. He could watch the waves break at their crest, the white foam avalanching down the transparent mountain. Then he would see the remainder of the wave running with itself, towards his board, and he would feel it underneath him. Effectively, Harry would be able to live through a wave’s life and he thought that that was pretty cool.

As the next wave approached, Harry prepared to really test his luck. He had not been able to try anything a little more complex for the past few days, having been teaching novices and the waves lacking that necessary finesse. But now –now was Harry’s time. With his eyes trained on the up-and-coming wave, Harry went into full ‘surf mode’. The rest of the world was not there. Just Harry and the sea. (Harry’s life was pretty much always in ‘surf mode’, actually, but in that moment, nothing else existed at all.)

The first step was to catch the wave, which he did in his classic perfection. He balanced his weight perfectly and skimmed the water expertly. As he had planned, he flicked his board and mastered the trick with the style he was known for. When the wave had broken and none of it was worth continuing with, Harry jumped off his board. He did not have an overwhelming sense of pride in his chest, just a smidgen of content scratching at his lungs.

After a while longer in the sea, performing his finest of surfs on the delicately formed waves, Harry trawled out of his home. Board under arm and hair plastered down, he walked up the beach to the outdoor shower. He was so in his own little world (full of salt and wax) upon approaching the shower that he did not notice the figure sitting on a stolen chair next to him. He started peeling off his wetsuit, the rubber slapping off his tender skin. He did not need to grasp a little courage to face the freezing clean water of the shower as he had been immersed in it not too long before, so he promptly stepped under it once turning it on.

His eyes were shut as the water ran down him. He rubbed at his already pink skin, the water shining on his body obscenely. His long fingers carded through his soaked hair, brushing it backwards off his face. He shook his digits a little, to rid of the salt, spraying droplets outside of the stream coming out of the faucet. He nearly missed it, the meek and choked words, but thankfully the water turned off just in time for him to hear the strained voice.

“Uh- hi,” he heard. He opened his racing green eyes and to the sight of a lounging Louis on the raised platform above the beach. Nobody else was there, the wind being too off-putting to cope with whilst merely trying to eat their scone, just the barista.

“Oh, hi,” Harry replied, with more surprise than charm could hold up. Harry stood awkwardly, bare chest dripping with water and hair smoothed back to make him feel all of exposed. There was a bout of silence, a one of slight awkwardness.

“You’re, err, really great. At surfing. I mean. Not- yeah,” Louis said. Afterwards, Harry could see the mental slap that the boy gave to himself after his stammering response.

“Thanks, mate, means a lot,” Harry smiled sincerely. The wind was starting to nip his skin but he did not move.

“How long have you been surfing for?” Louis inquired. He leant forward, elbows on his knees and chin on his hands.

“Well, I surfed from when I was, like, twelve? But I started doing it as a career when I was seventeen and haven’t really stopped since.”

“Wow, that’s, like, ages,” Louis said, seemingly flabbergasted.