drunk voicemails ↠ narry

2.4

Blue eyes gaze the pack of alcohol wearily, thinking about all the consequences provided with the choice of downing each and every bottle. He could do it, of course he could. He practically does it every night. The question is: should he? For every action, there is a reaction. That's just basic science but in this case, it could mean life or death.

He so desperately wants to be better. He wants to be better for him. With every bone in his aching body, he wants to stop what he does every day and become a better person because for god's sake, everyone in this wretched town hates him. He walks into the pub and the strangers he's become accustomed of, turn to face him and the smiles that were once on their face, vanish instantly at the sight of the problematic blonde. The four bartenders that take turn working shifts during the week, know the nightly drunk like the back of their hand.

He doesn't have a job. It's not like anyone would hire him anyways. He's constantly intoxicated and probably couldn't differentiate left from right even when sober. He walks around the streets at any time of day with anxiety clearly shown by the facial expressions he makes. Bystanders are perturbed by his capricious behavior. With every step he takes, he feels like he's about to break down, like he's about to release every emotion he has held in.

Walking is his only way of contemplating everything that has ever happened. It's not exactly the best thing to do when the only thing on his mind is the Cheshire beauty he once knew. He thinks about the wonderful times they shared together but it doesn't last long before the memories of the dreadful day are remembered. Yelling, screaming, insults, crying, sobbing, bawling, regretful words.

It's usually then that he falls to the ground in anguish. It's then that he wishes he could take back everything he has done, that he could forget the man that started it all, that maybe he could fall and hit his head on the ground in hopes of waking up with a fresh set of memories. It's slightly morbid and possibly unhealthy but with the past he's had, it's well understood.

He barely has a place to live. He lives with his brother's uptight friend that is threatening to kick him out if he can't set his act straight. They rarely ever make contact since he has a well paying job that demands he's there almost all hours of the day. The Irish lad tends to avoid seeing his roommate until he's almost back from work, which is usually late at night. He sleeps the day away so that when night has arrived, he can drink beer at the pub by their house. It's an endless cycle, really.

He drinks, and he drinks, and he drinks. That's all there is to it. He drinks to forget, he drinks to cease the nightmares, he drinks to be able to talk to his once best friend.

But now that he has either gotten a new number or maybe just blocked him, the blue eyed boy has been depressed. This is the worst he's ever been. He drinks a lot more (if that's even possible) by stealing some of his roommates hideaway cash that he thinks is in a ingenious hiding spot. Putting it in a cookie jar on the top shelf is not a very good spot especially since he's a diabetic and can't have very much sugar, anyone would know that.

During the nights he goes to get so drunk he can't remember yesterday's events, he starts off with only a few beers. This is usually when he calls the curly haired lad. He never picks up so he's never modest about what he says. The fake blonde is doubtful he even listens to the messages he leaves him. It's just his way of telling someone, even if no one is to hear it.

Now that he has no way to contact his childhood friend, he's grown tired of drinking. By drinking, he gained confidence to call and to wish that he'd call back just one time. He can't do that anymore. The only option left is to see him face to face.

Just sharing eye contact would be difficult.

If he was to show up at Harry's house uninvited, drunk, and crying, he'd for sure be asking to be yelled at and thrown out. He's hurt him enough and by doing that, it wouldn't be helping anything, not even himself. The only way of talking to him, would be completely sober. He barely believes him then, much less when he's drunk.

He's lied before to the one person he cared most about and that is what makes Harry so cautious with letting him back in his life.

Liars can't change, can they?

Calling the brunette after he was kindly asked to stop, wasn't a very bright idea. He should have expected to have been blocked, but he didn't... He knew Harry as such a kind and humble person that he didn't think he would ever do that to him. But in all truth, Niall deserved it.

For the week following, he cried the days away. He couldn't handle everything he has done. He knew he was a horrible person and the one thing he wish could happen, most likely won't.

He just wants the guy he hasn't talked to in two years, to not hate him any more.

-

well, after my first day of high school and having a headache, i managed to finish this chapter up. im excited to write the next chapter.

what are your thoughts on niall's story/history?

-lexi