Dark Narry (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 19

Harry~

"WAKE UP!" I hear a loud Irish accent yell loudly.

I groggily open my eyes, pulling the blanket over my head and bending the pillow over my ears. "Get. Away."

"Harry Styles if you don't get up right now I will drag you off!" He shouts, beginning to jump on the bed.

"Niall! Stop! I'm sleeping," I whine into the mattress.

"You've been sleeping long enough!"

"What time is it?"

"1:00 PM!"

I use my arms to lift myself up and sit upright, wiping my heavy eyes. "Really?"

"Yes, really! Now get your sorry bum up!" He jumps off the bed and waves his arms over his head.

I see him clearly now. He's wearing a green jersey with the number 5 on the back with the word "Horan" on top of it. His body looked toned. Why did he have to do this to me so early in the morning?

"Do you even know what today is?" He asks me, clearly seeing I don't.

"Um.. Friday?" I guess. Clearly the wrong answer as I see him roll his eyes.

"No! Well, yes. But not the answer I was looking for! It's the game!" He yells, making me cover my ears with my hands. "Ireland verse America! Hell yeah!"

"What game is it..?"

"You're killing me, Harry! Futbol!"

"American football?"

His jaw drops, groaning loudly. "If you weren't cute, I'd leave you right now! Soccer, Harry, soccer!"

I make an O shape with my mouth and brush my shoulder past him, grabbing some clothes as I walk to the bathroom. I brush my teeth clean and see Niall running down the hall. I smile and roll my eyes, closing the door.

I take a quick shower and dry my hair off with my towel. Checking my face in the mirror, I walk out and find Niall on the couch. My jaw hangs.

"Niall.. What did you do?"

He spins around with his cheeks full of chips. "What?"

"Did you clean out the kitchen? For God's sake! How much food do you need?"

"It's a game, Harry! You need the game food!"

I sigh, spotting myself next to him. "Alright, alright. Can I?" I ask, stretching my hand to one of the bags.

"Go for it, babe," he answers, staring directly at the screen.

I shove a couple chips into my mouth and try to understand what I'm watching. Okay, I know what soccer is, but I don't get all the proper fouls and stuff. All I need to know is, ball in net. Seems good.

"FUCK!"

I choke on my snack and stare at Niall's red face. "What the fuck, Niall?" I gasp as I cough my lungs out, trying to breathe.

"YOU DIDN'T SEE THAT?"

"No! I'm too busy choking!" He keeps his high on the screen and I gulp down a Pepsi, feeling the large chunk in my throat slowly slide down my throat. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking!" I say sarcastically.

"HURRY THE FUCK UP! GOD! C'MON RUN!"

"What's happening?" I pipe up.

"Number fifteen needs to take the ball from America, but he's running too damn slow!" He tries to explain.

I'm hopeless. So, I just nod.

He stands up quickly and screams at the screen. Man, he gets really into this kind of stuff.