Wet Dreamz ➸ Narry

• uno •

It was August 26th when Harry met him. The first day of sophomore year. Mr. Sanders' math class.

Mr. Sanders' classroom was a pretty normal classroom. The walls were a dull white and the ceilings were tiled. The desks were lined in five rows with five desks in each, twenty-five desks in total. The floor was an ugly, scuffed up brown and cream colored tile. On one side of the room there were bookshelves lined up with math posters hanging next to them. On the other side there was Mr. Sanders' wooden desk, dented with scratches and marked with pencils and pens.

There was a small, black trashcan next to it for quick disposal, and over to the right some there was a table with papers all over it. There were trays too, where each period would put their assignments when finished. In front of the room sat the huge dry-erase board on the wall with brand new scented markets in the holder, almost like home for them.

Harry stood near the door, lip tucked between his pearly white teeth and a notebook in hand. His emerald eyes scanned the room trying to find a good spot to sit. He finds one in the third row right smack dap in the middle. He loathed being in the front and in the back. In the front he felt teachers would pick on him more than others, but in the back he couldn't see shit.

The curly-haired boy took a seat, opening the notebook to the first blank page and pulling out a green mechanical pencil. He knew he wasn't gonna do anything really. Just sit there and listen to the teach drag on about classroom expectations and the syllabus. One word; boring.

Other kids started to pile in, some squealing in delight from realizing their friends are in class with them, others upset because they hate math and don't have their friends. And some are just plain pissed off because their summer literally lasted two seconds and now it was a brand new school year.

A figure walked into Harry's peripheral vision, taking a seat at the desk next to him, two feet away. Harry looked up and his mouth dropped.

One word; beautiful. Gorgeous crystal blue eyes, shaggy blonde hair with chocolate roots. Pale complexion with red tints in places, mostly the cheeks. Thin, pink lips. Harry almost died right there. The boy was absolutely stunning, too pretty for words.

He looked at the front, but his eyes drifted to Harry, seeing him staring at him. He smiled and waved. Harry's eyes widened because what? Was this breathtaking boy smiling and waving at him? He didn't even know him.

"Hi" he greeted and wow, is that an Irish accent Harry senses? "I'm Niall. What's your name?"

And suddenly Harry forgot his own name.

He opened his mouth, but nothing was coming out. His milky skin turned red from embarrassment.

Niall laughed and fuck, it was so beautiful. "You don't know your own name?"

Again, no words could form in the curly-haired boy's mouth so he simply nodded, looking like a complete dork.

Niall nodded slowly, a smile forming on his pretty, pink lips. "Okay. Well tell me when you remember, okay?"

Another nod.

Niall giggled, looking at the front as Mr. Sanders began to introduce himself. Harry stared a little longer at the boy, and suddenly it was like a lightbulb went off in his head.

"Harry." His voice was gravelly and strained for some reason. He cleared his throat as Niall turned back to him with raised brows.

He gasped. "He speaks?!"

Harry smiled. "Um y-yeah."

Niall nodded. "Well hi, Harry. I hate math, but I feel you're going to make this class a lot more interesting."