Tears of an Angel (One Direction/Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter Four: Burning

Chapter Four: Burning

...

Harry’s P.O.V

“Niall, if you don’t stop going to that snack table, it’s going to end up empty.”

The small blond looked up at the sound of Liam’s voice and I smirked with unhidden amusement at the sight of his cheeks turning red with the comment. “What an earth would we do if you choked? I wonder if Paul’s got first aid training for that.” Louis idly commented from beside me.

“I sure hope so; otherwise you’d have to do it.” I laughed with my own remark, giving my mate a nudge in the side as I did. Niall seemed to take some joy from the fact that the attention was now moving on to Louis instead of himself and used the opportunity to turn back to the snacks.

“Why me?” Were Louis’ indignant reply, crossing his arms dramatically and giving a disgruntled pout as he spoke. I rolled my eyes fondly at his theatrics.

“You’re the one whose Mom’s a nurse.” Zayn spoke up from the comfortable looking three seater couch in the corner. As of currant, the Bradford boy had his feet up and was stretched out over the beige coloured furniture uncaringly. Louis spared a sigh his way before huffing as well and going over to stand by Niall, who despite the teasing; had not left the snacks table. The brunet boy flashed his shorter mate a grin, letting everyone know that he wasn’t truly upset with the simple action.

“I’d save you any day, Nialler.” He grinned. Niall barked out a laugh and made to give Louis a shove as the boy went to reach for a triangle shaped sandwich among several others on the plate.

A sharp knock on the outside of the closed door interrupted anything else that might have been said and soon there was a kind faced middle aged man peering into the dressing room and saying that the press conference was in five.

Thankfully, it was the last thing that we had to do that day. First it had been recording, and then a few quick chats with some magazine interviewers over the phone and now lastly, a fairly basic press conference. And then we’d be allowed to go home and relax. The promise of the idea was enough to keep the tired note out of my voice as I flashed a smile at the black suited man.

“Sure thing.”

…

Tammy’s P.O.V

Looking up above at the seamless blue sky and accompanying cotton candy like clouds, I realised just how bright the day was. It wasn’t often that the weather wasn’t grisly in London, so the blue sky was a nice exception to that. I enjoyed the change.

Feeling cleaner concrete then that of the kind bellow supporting me as I lay flat atop it; gazing at the sheer vastness ahead, I felt so small. Perhaps I was. Perhaps that was a good thing. It would look quite odd to passers-by if they happened to glance up and see a seventeen year old girl casually lounging about on the edge of a building that was at least two and a half stories up. But the chances of that were slim. There wasn’t anyone walking bellow, as everyone was most likely inside to escape the warmth that the sun left behind on the tar parking lot.

Even so, I’d made sure to find a space that was sheltered from view. I was too smart to take chances. For where one person may see a teenage girl somewhere she shouldn’t be and grow concerned, another might see that very same girl and be startled out of their wits. That is, if in the second scenario the girl had wings.

Closing my eyes, I could see the red of my eyelids as the sun continued to shine down. The clouds making odd shadows and shapes over my pale skin while they floated by, giving off the same feeling of being under shallow water. Letting out a quiet exhale, I carefully rolled over with my eyes still softly shut. Resting one cheek onto my arms I revelled in the feeling of spreading my smooth white wings and letting the rays hit them. It felt so nice. A simple pleasure that not many would be able to understand. A light breeze had just picked up from the west and it ruffled my long hair slightly, so as to be gentle with becoming a disruption. I did not move from this position for what felt like as long of a time as it were short but soon I was lazily fluttering my lashes and reached up a hand to brush the almost-curls from my face.