drunk voicemails ↠ narry

2.6

From across the room, Harry could practically feel the blonde's gaze on him. The way his eyes focused on him and him only made him feel some type of way. After learning the real explanation on the event that occurred years ago, he finally understood what actually happened and how big of a misunderstanding it was. The Cheshire lad became greatly consumed with guilt knowing what a tough couple of years that Niall lived because on the last day they spoke, he never let the blonde utter a word because he was too busy feeling sorry for himself.

Niall was sat on the couch while Harry fixed dinner for the two. However, the blonde grew worried that this was going to be the last time they talked, that this was a one time event; and perhaps Harry would grow sick of him, never wanting to talk again. The past two years, he remained entirely infatuated with his British friend while they were separated. He yearned to be with him again and have a civil conversation without all the screaming and tears and now that he finally has, it feels like it's too good to be true. He wants to be assured that this is going to last and that their friendship has finally returned.

Removing himself from the couch, he made his way to the kitchen where he hopped on top of the counter to get a closer view of the cook. He breathed a soft sigh as he leaned back, placing his hands on the brisk granite, soaking in the abnormal feeling that he wasn't completely alone like he regularly was. Harry smiled at how content his guest looked, pausing a quick moment to put his hair up and out of his eyes in a disheveled bun.

The kitchen was drowned in the scent of some kind of chicken Niall has never heard of and a variety of spices that blended absolutely wonderful together. Thinking back, he can't recall the last time he had a home cooked meal since he hasn't been back to Ireland in years. The Irish had become accustomed to the quick snacks here and there at his home that it was normal, but never had he planned out a dish that took both time and effort to create and perfect.

"Your hair has gotten longer." Niall commented, eyes still trained on the Cheshire beaut, causing Harry to glance up from his tentative watch at the stove.

Grinning, he replied, "I'm growing it out to donate to charity." He paused to study Niall's facial features to figure out what he was thinking. "Why? Do you not like it?"

"Just different, s'all. Your curls are still there though." Niall gently laughed, "I remember how annoyed you got when people always tried to touch your hair."

Harry walked away from the stove to approach Niall, bringing his hands up to his friend's hair, "Your hair is so luscious! Is it real? OMG I wish mine was like yours!" The Brit gawked in a feminine tone, impersonating what the usual person did when they touched his hair.

Niall laughed a deep chuckle, throwing his head back, "I can see how that is annoying."

Harry smiled widely, removing his hands from the blonde and returning back to his position at the stove. He simpered, losing himself in the reminiscence of him and Niall when they were younger. He felt something, there was an undeniable feeling in the pit of his stomach that was indescribable. He wasn't sure if he finally felt complete or if he was simply joyous over the fact he was reunited with his best friend and that they overcame their struggle, but it was making him slightly on edge.

Harry glanced down and realized that dinner was at last complete, turning the stove off so he could pile two plates until the bottom couldn't be seen. Walking over to the small table situated to the side of the kitchen, he placed the food down as he signaled at Niall to join him. The blonde complied, jumping down from the countertop to meet Harry in the dining room.

The two conversed quietly while eating and although they hadn't spoken in a couple of years, it wasn't as awkward as either of them thought it would be. Niall was quite thankful for that. He never pictured that he would be in this position a year ago so for him to be seated at dinner with his childhood friend again made him very happy.

Deep down, Harry had been wanting this for a long time and he's glad it's finally happening. He missed hearing Niall's laugh, and the way he joked around, and his accent. Oh did he miss that accent of his. He was the only one he knew in England to speak with that accent so it was refreshing to hear the way he pronounced his words even if you can't always understand what he's saying. He prays that this won't be the last time he hears it.

Snapping his head up to look at Niall, "Why don't you stay the night?" He inquires, gazing into Niall's cerulean eyes awaiting a response.

He looks a tad bit surprised, furrowing his eyebrows at how sudden the question was asked. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life. C'mon you have to! It'll be like old times." Harry persuades, practically pleading for them to relive the past he adored so much.

Who was Niall to deny that? He hated his current living situation and this means spending more time with the one he missed the most. The only thing that startled him was how easily Harry has gotten over the silence they spent the last two years in. He wasn't hesitant at all to ask him to spend the night like nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong anymore, at least.

Dinner went by fairly fast but all Niall could think about is where he would sleep. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't okay with falling asleep in Harry's arms because he missed the times they used to cuddle each other to sleep.

Harry jumped up from the table, sprinting into the hallway and turning the corner where Niall could hear him laughing. After a couple of minutes, the brunette hadn't returned so he slowly padded his way towards where he saw Harry last and entered his bedroom to find him on the floor covered in sheets, laughing hysterically which only caused Niall to laugh with him.

"Harry, what the hell are you doing?" Niall questioned, still laughing.

Removing some of the sheets from atop of him to regain his vision, he replies "Well you see, I was trying to find some blankets to maybe make a fort with but I accidentally knocked down the shelf with all of the bed sheets and I thought to myself what a ridiculous situation I was in and then I couldn't quit laughing."

Niall simply shook his head at how silly that had sounded but still laughed along. He walked over to where Harry was laid and extended a hand down for him to grab, planning on pulling him up swiftly, but instead he pulled Niall down beside him which resulted in a mess of two giggling boys tangled together.

After their laughter quieted down, Niall commented, "Oh Harry, let's get up and we'll make a killer fort."

And that's exactly what they did. The pair gathered as many supplies necessary and began building a blanket fortress in the middle of Harry's small living room, taking up the entire space. Once completed, Niall lowered his head to avoid ruining their masterpiece, entering the fort and sitting alongside his curly haired friend who had just set up Netflix on the television situated in front of them.

The blonde leaned backwards onto an assortment of pillows and exhaled a long peaceful breath, focusing on the green-eyed beaut as the light from the graphics in front of him radiate onto his face, illuminating each and every facial feature. Eventually Harry laid next to his friend, allowing their arms to brush against each other. Niall closed his eyes, soaking in the foreign feeling of Harry's skin pressed upon his. However, that wasn't exactly enough for him; he wanted more as greedy as that sounds.

He longed for Harry's muscular, tattooed arms to wrap around his slightly smaller, petite figure, enveloping him in the sense he was no longer alone. Except he wasn't exactly sure how to get himself into that position without it being awkward. After mentally debating, he decided he would shift his body to the side, nuzzling his head on Harry's chest. In response, Harry repositioned one of his arms onto Niall's back and the other in his hair, lightly threading his fingers through his blonde locks, gently scratching his scalp. 

This only caused Niall to blissfully sigh and intertwine their legs. Although there was a movie playing on the tellie, he didn't care because the sensation he felt laying in Harry's arms was much more important than some film. Finally after two years, he finally felt at rest with himself. He no longer felt like he was drowning in guilt. He felt like he was home. 

guys i feel like writing another narry story, maybe a ghost fic? let me know what you think...