Fake (N.S)

22.

Harry's POV

I wasn't even aware that I had fallen asleep until I had woken up later on. The light in my room was shining rather bright, which perhaps explained my sudden awakening. I was now laying alone in my bed, the sheets still a mess around me.  

Although I didn't realise that I had fallen asleep, I could very easily remember everything that had happened before I did. And I knew that Niall had been here, which was why his sudden absence confused me a little.

I was aware that mine and Niall's relationship was like this already. We dealt with the awkwardness of post-sex simply by leaving once the act was over and then avoiding each other until the next time we did it. For some reason, I wished that this time was different from the rest.

I wished that I could wake up to feel his familiar body tangled up with mine, our sweaty skin still pressed together and our limbs tangled together like we actually liked each other, like what we had just done really meant something to the both of us.

That was wishful thinking and I was completely aware of that. Niall and I weren't like that with one another. We would never be intimate with one another without it stemming from anger or hatred. Even though I was starting to think of him in a more positive and somewhat affectionate manner, it didn't mean we could effortlessly lay together after sex, it was too awkward. 

There could never be a time where the two of us could communicate properly. Not to mention that the only times we had seen each other since I had broken off our fake relationship had ended with us having sex.

Both times, I didn't actually intend for it to escalate to that, it just sort of happened in the moment. Not that I was complaining, but I would have liked to have a proper conversation with him in order to fix our relationship. Proper conversations didn't usually involve sex.

Perhaps I should be a lot more worried about this. I mean, I didn't think it was exactly normal for every interaction we had to lead to sex, particularly since I was trying my hardest to properly fix things with him. 

Times like this reminded me of the first time Niall and I had slept together, when things weren't as awkward but our interactions had involved a lot of hatred and stupid insults. We had planned on fucking each other several days before it actually happened. We had only done it to get it over with, the two of us disliked being inexperienced. Neither of us had an idea of what we were doing and it was clear that it had been our first time.

We went right back to our normal selves once it was over and for a few days, it was as though the sex had never happened. We never intended on making it a regular thing. We were supposed to forget it happened and move on, yet we both thought the sex was too good to not experience again.

Part of me wanted to believe that maybe it wasn't just the sex. Maybe some deep, fucked up part of us already had this connection between us that just made it impossible for us to remain separate for too long. Not like we were soulmates or anything, but maybe there was a reason we decided to have sex with each other, or why we just kept coming back to each other. 

Perhaps if we did forget it happened, we wouldn't be in the mess that we were currently in. Not that I could say I wholly regretted everything that had happened. I didn't. In fact, I would go as far as to say that all of this happened for a reason. 

Niall's POV

I let my eyes flutter open, burning slightly from the light coming into Harry's bedroom. I let out a breath as my eyes adjusted to the bright light.

I was still laying on his bed, my smaller frame was tangled up with Harry's larger one, my sweaty and hot skin was pressed to his as I was cuddled into his chest. It kind of felt like we were actually a couple.