scarred wings (l.s.)

thirteen

I hate rain. That’s the first thing I think, when I wake up just four hours after I went to bed.

I usually don’t hate rain. I like the smell of it on hot tar, like the sound of soft pitter-patter on the roof, like watching the rain drops race down the window.

Today I hate rain. Why would it rain, storm even, when all I wanted was some quiet peace? I stare at the ceiling and try to fall asleep again.

My eyes still feel so heavy and puffy, I can barely keep them open.

A loud thunder solves that problem. It takes a few minutes before my heart rate calms down again and my breath goes back to normal.

I hate thunderstorms, I think.

When it thunders for the third time in the last five minutes, I sigh and push myself off the bed.

This was supposed to be a chilled weekend, all alone. Maybe get some breakfast at the bakery, enjoy it in the sun, all alone.

Now there’s a loud storm going on outside and a quiet boy sitting in my kitchen on the couch.

Great, really.

He’s laying in my kitchen. Sleeping peacefully, as if the world wasn’t going down. I roll my eyes; how does he do this?

I fill a glass with tap water, drink two sips and pour the rest back into the sink. Then I take the bowl and spoon Harry left on the table and put it into the sink as well before making myself some cereal.

I sit there for about half an hour, staring out of the window-and at Harry, occasionally-before he finally opens his eyes.

If he’s already staying in my kitchen, he can at least keep me some company since I seem to be the only one in my friend group that doesn’t have anyone to stay at during the weekends.

Taylor has Joe, Gigi and Zayn live together, Amelia and Niall live in the same dorm, Liam and Sophia aren’t official but basically married, Maya drives to her parents every weekend and Lewis pretty much lives at Shawn’s place by now.

I am alone. Well, not anymore. There’s Harry, groaning as he wakes up after the loudest thunder so far, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

I smile a little, he looks like a little kid.

I stop smiling. He basically still is a kid.

God, he’s two years younger than me. How does he even manage all of this? Sometimes mum has to come over to help me cook because it all gets too much, two years ago I didn’t even know how to do my laundry.

So why did he have to grow up so fast?

“Hi.”

Harry’s morning voice is deep and hoarse. A little attractive, if I have to admit it.

“Hi.”

“Were you watching me in my sleep?” He lifts the corner of his mouth, probably an attempt of a smile.

I laugh quietly. I’m not used to him joking.

“I’m not a creep. You’re the one staying in a stranger’s flat at night.”

I slap my hand to my mouth. “Okay, sorry. Sorry, Harry, that was in bad taste. I didn’t mean it like that”, I ramble, trying to make it sound any less bad than it was.

He laughs quietly. Laughs. It’s the first time I actually hear him make a sound of happiness, and that after I made the worst and most offensive joke ever.

It’s more like a breath, a quiet snort, but it’s a laugh.
“Don’t worry. Was a bit funny, creep.”

I let out a relieved, quiet chuckle. “So I didn’t scare you away?”

“Wouldn’t leave this stranger’s flat anyway.”

He smiles. He smiles, genuinely smiles. His eyes light up just a little and there’s a dimple appearing in his cheek.

It might be a little weird that I suddenly get the strong desire to softly poke it with my finger.

I dig my nail into my thumb instead. Why would I think such bullshit?

“Feeling better, then?”

Harry shrugs, takes his time to answer as always, actually thinking about his answer. I like that about him. When he talks, it’s genuine, it’s honest. He means every single word, he doesn’t pretend.

“Yeah, better. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m all alone anyways. Want to stay over for the weekend?”

He rolls his eyes a little and nods. “Sure, let’s have a sleepover and a movie night with popcorn. Tell each other creepy stories before we fall asleep.”

I know he’s joking but I nod anyways. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, cool.” And there’s the dimple again, appearing even though he’s pressing his lips together, trying not to smile.

It’s silent afterwards. Nobody really moves, we don’t talk either. I stare at my hands laying on the table and he watches the lightning, flinching every time it thunders.

I laugh a little every time and earn a glare from him, trying to seem mad.

It’s the loudest thunder I ever heard. I never, ever, heard such a noise in my life before, so I jump. I jump up, halfway tumbling over the chair next to me so that it falls over.

I fall over as well, landing on the hard wood with a loud thud. It doesn’t really hurt.

The only thing that hurts is the embarrassment so I don’t get up, just stare at the ground below me, trying to process that situation.

It’s quiet for a few awkward seconds before I lift my head a little to look at Harry. He looks concerned at first, staring at me with a frown, but when he sees I’m not hurt, he bites his lip, trying not to start laughing.

“Fuck off”, I say with a snort, still halfway laying on that chair and flip him off.

And then he laughs. Laughs out loud, ever so sudden, so genuine, so beautiful.

I can’t help but laugh as well, overwhelmed with the sudden joy in his face. I try to keep serious but the way his face light up makes me smile so much.

“Louis”, he says, “Do you even know how funny that was?”

“Harry”, I say, “I cancel our sleepover.”

And then he laughs again. And I can’t help but think that I might’ve fallen in love with that sound just a little bit.

~~~

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