Fanboy [Narry]

Chapter 31

It's two weeks after the whole 'why don't we make a beach in Niall's living room' incident and there is still sand everywhere. Harry hired some company to clean it all up but I don't think they were worth his money. Not that Harry could care less about that because he's got so much that he could fill the Grand Canyon with it.

My four-year-old neighbour was fairly upset when he found out about the beach thing and demanded to know why he wasn't invited because he wanted to bake sand cakes with Harry. Or with Liam actually but because Harry was there, he would have been okay with his second favourite member too. The only way to stop Marcus from pouting was the note Liam left the day of the fight with Louis.

"It says Marcus!" The little boy had screeched. "I'm Marcus!" He thrusted the note in my hands so I could read it out for him.

Harry was sitting next to me, both on the floor with our backs against the sofa. Marcus was in Harry's lap, the five-year-old really adored Harry and Harry seemed very fond of the boy too. The sight was endearing and it took me a lot of effort to focus on the note instead of two of my favourite boys in the world.

It was Harry's last day off for a while because he was about to get on the road and tour around England so he decided to spend his last bit of free time with me. When Julia knocked on the door to ask if I could watch Marcus, I wanted to say no because I wanted some alone-time with Harry because I have to share him with the rest of the world most of the time already. But Harry piped up after he made sure it wasn't a horny pizza guy at the door, that we'd gladly watch Marcus for the afternoon.

So there we sat, Marcus bouncing on Harry's lap as he clapped in his hands and waited not so patiently for me to read the note Liam had written for him. I cleared my throat before I read it out.

"For Marcus, my number one fan. Harry told me a lot about you and said you are the coolest kid in the world." Marcus beamed at Harry with the biggest smile I had ever seen. "So, of course I would really like to meet you so you could teach me how to be cool just like you. I have some time off in two months, so if you see Harry, ask him to call me so we can play some football. Hope to see you soon, my friend. With a cool high-five from Liam."

I think Marcus missed the most important part of the note because all he kept saying over and over that Liam is his friend. I never said anything about the call to meet up thing because knowing Marcus; he would come over every day to ask if Harry is here and if it's time to call Liam yet.

We had a lovely day that day and Harry and Marcus even baked cupcakes together to make it up for not inviting Marcus to the sand party.

But right now, I'm home alone on this Friday afternoon and I'm bored out of my mind. Harry is in Newcastle with the band at the moment and I don't feel like doing anything. I just feel like moping all day because I haven't seen Harry in two weeks after spending all our free time together and it sucks big time. It's like telling a heroin addict to quit cold turkey, they can do it but it feels like the impossible. We Skype whenever he has time but sadly enough that isn't very often with him playing sold-out concerts almost every night.

I've been sleeping terribly the last fourteen days because I miss Harry's warmth in my bed and his good night kisses and an arm around my waist to keep our bodies connected. It's kind of sad to feel this way but I can't help it. It's growing to be a problem though because he'll be going on a world tour soon and it will be impossible to fall asleep in the same bed together for months.

I groan and let myself fall face first on my bed but regret that when I inhale Harry's scent that's still caught in the sheets. I want to cry but stop myself when I realize how pathetic I'm being. Sure, it's alright to miss your boyfriend but how sad is it to cry over him because he isn't able to spend a lot of time with you? Besides we've only been dating for three weeks, I shouldn't be this attached already.