painter / narry.

chapter one

"Good morning, Harry. Nice weather, yeah?" My mum greeted me while she sipped on her tea. The hot steam fogged her reading glasses. I sent her back a smile.

"Hey!" Her hand swatted my arm as I took a bite of her toast. We both laughed obnoxiously at who knows what. The sunshine shone through the sheer curtains, making me squint my eyes. I loved the way the light made a stream pattern. I must make a painting of that.

"Oh, Harry? Yoohoo!" Mum whistled and laughed. Sometimes I completely zone out during conversations, looking for new things to paint. Maybe one of these days I can actually participate in a conversation.

"You need to get going to uni. See you after school, hun." She kissed my forehead, her small lips smile as she pulled away. "I love you." I kissed her forhead as well, then grabbed my helmet by the door. The blue and orange bike I rode to university leaned against the garage door. I had a car, but I just used it when I absolutely needed it. University was just outside of the small neighborhood.

The ride was smooth and fast. Occasionally waving to happy people walking the busy streets of London.

"Oi, Harry!" A blonde haired college student took fast strides towards my bike. We had fiction literature together; he was the bully. Always making fun of me for my paintings.

"What did you paint for me this time?" He snorted, putting his rough hands on the handle bars. My leather backpack was quickly opened by the rude boy, my art portfolio spilling out. "Look how pretty this one is! I think I'll keep this one." Niall folded up the painting of a ballerina and stuffed it into his pocket.

Niall, I mumbled in my head. I've never had the courage to speak up to him. Well, I never really talk at all. Of course, another thing my fellow class mates make fun of me for. But, usually people say things that ruin the beauty of the world. So, I stay quiet, listening to the wonders of the community I live in.

"Bye, painter." Niall snickered as he ran apart from the bike. His long legs lead him to the university. I slowly followed the path that took me to a gate. Trees grew around it, it's trunck twisted around each piece of wood. This college was big on looks, not really focusing on learning or experiencing new things around you. It ticks me off.

I entered through the gate, admiring my surroundings. Many college students sat around campus, being themselves. It's amazing, so many lives and personalities gathered in one place. You've got the jocks, freshmans trying to fit in, goth people, nerds, horribly dressed girls, and possibly so many more that can't be written down. But, what happens if you don't fit in any of those groups? You're a sophomore in college and you can't even find where you belong. Well, that's the position I am currently in.

My palms began to sweat as I parked my bike in the rack that stood in the middle of a feild. Some of the students stared at me and I'm pretty sure I heard someone snicker. Yay, social anxiety. I bowed my head, staring at my beat up brown boots, some of the soft leather peeling off. My mum keeps telling me to get rid of them but I was always so attached to them. From the corner of my eye I could see converse walk closer to my body. Niall, really? I sped walk to the main entrance of university. "Hey!" His thick Irish accent sounded harsh. There was a single bathroom right beside the front doors. Bathroom. "Get back here, kid!" Niall put one hand on my backpack as I stepped my foot into the bathroom. My sweaty hands fumbled with the handle, searching with the lock. It clicked and I sighed in utter relief.

I leaned my back on the hard wood door, slouching on the tile floor. He pounded his fist against the door, "Harry, don't make me come in there!" I pulled my knees against my chest, tilting my head against the door. Why me?

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this is basically explaining what poor harry has to go through. I DO NOT AT ALL WHAT SO EVER THINK NIALL IS RUDE AND MEAN. HE IS JUST A CHARACTER.