Be Like You (Narry)

First story:). Course it's a narry.

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PROLOGUE

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..Niall's P.O.V..

I wanted to be him. We were best mates, practically brothers, but I just couldn't help but envy him for his charm and good looks. Oh, and that hair. How the hell is it so perfect all the time? How is so easy with girls?

We all know who I'm talking about.

Harry freaking Styles.

If you were to look up 'perfection' in the dictionary, his name would be the definition. I know I may sound like a crazy, obsessed, teenage fan, but I just want to be as cool and smooth as he is. Actually he's not smooth at all, he's just cheeky.

Those dimples make everyone drop to the floor and just obey him like he's a king. I'm not kidding. I've seen it happen more than once.

I swear I'm not like in love with him or anything, I just adore him, and hate him at the same time. It's like a love-hate relationship. One sided, of course. He doesn't know I hate him for his perfection, he sees us as best mates and like two peas in a pod. He doesn't see the green monster on my back. Thank God he doesn't, that'd just be fucking embarrassing.

"Hey Nialler," speaking of the devil. "What are you scowling at?" Harry asks me, sitting himself right beside me on the long, comfy leather couch. I look at him and shrug.

"Just," I began, but I stop myself, realizing I really don't have a good excuse. "I'm just tired."

"You must think I'm stupid." He says, locking his eyes with mine. He has a blank face, but his eyes are a fiery green, that makes me think he's...angry?

"Actually, I don't think you're stupid at all." I said. "I just hoped you'd fall for that one." I joked a little. Good, Niall, good. Banter will help you come up with a good excuse. Come on think.

He smiles, barely. "What's really the matter." Think Niall!

"I'm in love." I blurted, before slapping my hand over my mouth. "I mean.."

Harry cuts me off with full blown laughter, tears coming out of his eyes. "You," he breathes. "You're not in love."

"Why the hell can't I be in love?" I ask, getting defensive.

"Because Nialler's don't fall in love." He says, finally calming down from his laughing fit. "Plus I'd be able to tell."

"For your information, I am in love." I say. Now I don't even care. He says I can't be love?! He says he'd be able to tell! I'm actually not in love, but for Pete's sake! I can to be in love if I want to. That curly haired bastard.

"Tell me her name."

That's where I panic. Here comes the next pain in the ass, answer I come up with.

"It's..." I stammer. "Fine! Stupid Styles! I'm not in love, but I can be."

"Prove it."

"Fine then," I said scowling at him. "I'll be like you."

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...A/N...

Bah bah.

"So how come when I reach out my fingers it seems like more than distance between us?"

Guess the song;)