euphoric (n.s. AU)

n i n e

lol hi y'all
enjoy pls

*Harry's POV*

I could already tell today was definitely going to be a great day. It was raining, and I for one, love rainy days. I sigh contently before making my way to my office and open all of the blinds, making sure I could take in the beautiful sight. Rain always put me at peace, it calmed my nerves and just boosted my mood overall. I came in a little late today, due to Marissa not waking me up. My phone had died during the night since I had forgotten to plug it in last night. A small smile emerges on my face when I see that Allison had already dropped off a water bottle; I'll have to thank her later. Remembering the events that occurred yesterday, I walk over to the stereo and turn it on, turning it down so it set a nice, uplifting mood. My heart dropped to my stomach when I began to recall why Niall had to dismiss himself early, in such a rushed, agitated manner. I begin to ponder about what could've happened to the poor boy, before my office phone rings and has me hurtling back to reality. I sigh before walking towards it and picking it up.

"Mr. Styles office..." I mumble, messing with the spiraling cord in which connected the base to the actual phone.

"Mr. Horan is here." Stacey tells me. I smile at the mention of him, a surge of relief washing over me.

"Alright, thank you. Have a lovely day, Stacey." I tell her. We bid our goodbyes I before place the phone back in the provided spot, anxiously anticipating the presence of the young boy. Once I hear the small, almost inaudible knocks on the door, signaling me that he had made his way up, I tell him to come in. He smiles at me before sitting across from me.

"Hello, Mr. Horan. How are you?" I ask. I examine his body, not seeing any other marks on his pale skin. My eyes meet his and he blushes, before clearing his throat.

"I'm good. What about you?"

"I'm great." I reply. He seems taken aback by my answer, a small smile creeping on his face.

"Why's that?" He says, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms. I smile widely and gesture to the windows, which the rain gracefully crashed on.

"The rain. I love it." I say. He makes a face before walking to the stereo and changing the station. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"You like the rain? I hate it. It's such a mood killer. It makes me pretty sad actually. Why would anyone like the rain?" He says, before seating himself. I think for the true reasoning behind my strange infatuation for rain. I smile when I come to a conclusion.

"I remember when I was younger, every time it rained the au pair would take my sister and I out to play in it. Her name was Klara, and she came from Germany to nanny for my mother. She was an incredible young woman, and stayed with us for a little over two years. Whenever my sister and I noticed it was about to rain, we'd jump up and down on the couch with so much excitement. I guess it just reminds me of those times. I hope she's doing well." I explain, reminiscing while watching the big raindrops pour from the sky. While I speak, Niall has his regular stack of papers in his hands, stapling and stamping with much more precision than when he first started.

"Your sister, or the au pair?" Niall asks, and the question makes me think for a moment.

"Both, truthfully." I say, watching a few bolts of lightning strike in the distance. Niall drops the stapler and looks at me, with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Why don't you reach out to her? Your sister, I mean." He inquires, and it's a valid question. I shake my head before turning my gaze to Niall.

"I haven't spoken to her in years, Mr. Horan. The last time we spoke was when I was about 14. That's almost 12 years - I'd feel weird reaching out now." 

"Mr. Styles, take it from me - you should reach out to her. You'll regret not keeping in touch one day." He mumbles, fiddling with his hands. I tilt my head slightly, pursing my lips.

"And why is that?"

"Because I know from experience." 

"What do you mean?" I question. Niall shifts in his seat uncomfortably, looking down at his hands while he picks at his cuticles. When his eyes meet mine again, they're red and glossy, as if he's about to cry. 

"My brother, Greg, died two years ago. I hadn't really spoke to him much after getting into a relationship with Sean, because him and Greg got into a fight one time and it was nasty. Sean didn't like Greg from that point forward, and did not like me talking to him either, so I didn't. When my mom told me he died, I was devastated of course, but not just because I lost my brother; but because I would never be able to repair our relationship. Trust me, that is not a feeling you want to have for the rest of your life." He explains, and by the end he's in tears. I watch the boy crumble in the seat in front of me, unsure of how to comfort him.

"He knew you loved him," is all I can muster. Niall gently wipes his tears away, taking in a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I didn't even go to his funeral." He says under his breath, his cheeks stained with tears.

"Why, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Sean didn't want me to." He tells me in a choked sob, and I clench my fists in anger. How awful of a human being do you have to be to prevent your partner from attending the funeral of a loved one? Over what, some petty fight? My jaw clenches uncontrollably and I swallow back any words that might spill out against my will. Watching Niall's attempt to compose himself, I let out a long, deep breath to do the same. If we stay on this topic any longer, I may blow my top; and that's something I don't want to do right now. 

"Let's get to work, Mr. Horan."

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:)