Harry Styles Imagines

#38 Mind of Mind Pt. 2

MIND OF MINE PT. 2

4 months later...

"No, no, no. This button makes you attack," Zayn says, pressing it for me. Sure enough, my character swings his right arm, hitting the bad guy in the head. At least I know how to punch now.

"Thanks," I say.

"Mission complete," a male voice from the game says. "Go to the hideout to receive your next one. I'll be waiting for you there."

"Ooo, let me I drive there," Zayn begs, reaching for the controller. Without second thought, I hand it to him. It would've taken me five eons to get there anyways. GTA definitely isn't my forte, The Walking Dead's where it's at.

Zayn hops into a fancy car—I have no idea what type—and speeds down the road. Other cars? He swerves them. Red light? He runs it. Pedestrians? RIP. Everything happened so fast. I'm surprised he made it to the building without getting caught or wasted. Not even my brother could've done that, and this game is literally his life.

The concentrated expression on Zayn's face makes me laugh. Guys and their precious video games. If only I could get this into my studies. His eyes leave the screen for a split second to look at me. I bite my lip, attempting to seize my amused laughter.

"What's funny?" Zayn asks.

"Nothing," I lie.

"Me, huh?"

Right after he says that, a fairly sweaty Harry walks through the door. His hair is pulled back into messy bun and his face is flushed pink. Let me say it now, his post jog appearance is extremely sexy. What a blessing to me this was.

"It's not polite to stare, Y/N," he teases. Embarrassed, the first things that comes to my mind is sticking my tongue out at him. So I do. I should be able to stare at him all I want.

"Hey, Harry," Zayn greets, eyes staying glued to the TV. The loud sound of gunshots soon erupts into the room. "Fucking hell. Didn't even complete my hit list," he complains out loud.

"Wasted," the different guy says. 

"Watch your language, Malik," I semi-seriously scold, poking his cheek. He turns to me with an annoyed expression. Before I have the chance to scoot away, he pokes mine. "Hey," I whine. A victorious smile then spreads across his face.

"Y/N, come here for a second," Harry calls from the kitchen. I was too busy pestering Zayn that I hadn't noticed his absence. Oops. For he heck of it, I poke my friend one last time before dashing for the kitchen. When I get there, I see that Harry has taken out a packet of ramen noodles and a bowl to put it in. "Cook these for me while I shower?" He asks, giving me his best puppy dog face.

"Fine." I jokingly roll my eyes. It was no problem, really. "Gimme a hug first," I don't wait, I just wrap my arms his waist. As weird as it may seem, the musty mix of his deodorant and sweat wasn't all that bad (to me). "Baby, I'm all sweaty and gross." He tries to wiggle away from me, but I whine in protest.

"I don't care, Hazza," I murmur. "I love it when you're like this and I love you." I rest my chin on his shoulder and turn my head to kiss his prickly cheek. A smile finds its way onto his lips.

"I love you more," he whispers.

"Ok, now you're free to go cleanse yourself." I let go of him and he gives my forehead a quick peck before heading to the bathroom.

It's not until the shower turns off that I begin preparing the ramen. It takes him more than three minutes to get dressed, so they'll be ready by the time he's done. As of now, I'm just watching Zayn play the game. He managed to pass the difficult mission he'd been stuck on earlier. Oddly enough, a stripper had been one of the people on his hit list. Seeing her get gunned down was sad to watch, especially since she'd tried to escape.

The next mission is entitled "Torture It Out." Two other men are there when Zayn's character arrives at the location, but one happens to be duck taped into a chair. The muffled sounds of his pleas are bone chilling. This was too life like. The next thing I know, Zayn is grabbing a screwdriver and jamming it into the poor guy's knee. A blood patch appears as the guy screams in agony. A squeal slips past my lips when the other man does the same to the opposite knee.

"It's just fiction, Y/N," Zayn reassures me. "Don't you do this kind of stuff to zombies in The Walking Dead?"

"Yeah, zombies," I emphasize.

There's a pretty big difference.

Seconds, minutes and hours pass until we all find ourselves laughing in the living room. No, the three of us weren't the most mature adults, but we make the most out of everyday. That is what it truly means to live. And our minds are three of the many who understand that.

I honestly don't know what things would be like if Zayn and I hadn't have rekindled our friendship those four months ago. Pretty bland probably; other than Harry, of course. He brought that extra "umph" back into my life.

So, yes, time and life cooperate in ways we don't understand. People come and go and come back again, but in the end we'll see that it was all for a reason.

A/N: GTA is a real game, but in this imagine I kind of switched some things around.

Hopefully you guys liked it. I honestly feel like it took a weird turn...

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