Shattered || Narry

{26}

Niall

I don't know how long I had been awake, but I knew it was early. The sunlight was peeking through the blinds and made the shadow of lines on Harry's chest. He was still asleep but it didn't matter to me. I enjoyed staring at Harry as he slept. It gave me time to lightly trace the cracks on his face and gently kiss his chest. While he slept, I had time to just take in his beauty, outline his muscles and trace his tattoos. It would make him lightly shiver, but he'd stay asleep.

I would smile when I when I would hear my name softly slip pass his lips. I wish everyday with Harry was like this. I wish I could just lay here and stare at him; not having to do anything. Or not having anyone trying to take me or bring me home. And especially no one to come and interrupt just as I'm about to say "I love you" to Harry. Sure, each time Liam had interrupted, I could have still said it. I know I should have. I shouldn't let Liam's cockblocking get in the way of me finally telling Harry that I love him.

I know I do. I can feel it. My body just feels like it's on fire when I'm around him. I feel a rush of excitement when he touches me or kisses me. God, I love him. I do. I fucking do. I have to and need to tell him before it's too late.

I carefully slid off the bed to retrieve the remote for the tv that was across from the bed. After turning it on, I sat on the edge of the bed and turned down the volume so that I wouldn't wake Harry. I was flipping through the channels until I found one that was showing a picture of Harry...from last night. It was a news report and the headline said: Has Harry Styles Finally Lost It? I wanted to growl. There was nothing wrong with Harry and the second that I saw Miss Swift appear on screen, I turned up the volume to hear what she had to say about my Harry.

"I think he has lost it honestly," she laughed. "I mean, he wears a mask that covers half his face. You know, one of those Phantom of the Opera masks but it's like...the opposite side of the face and I mean as you all saw last night he was wearing it." She laughed more. "I mean what kind of man...with the amount of money Mr. Styles has...goes around wearing some childish mask. Plus I'm sure he's fucking some kid."

Granted that they bleeped out her saying "fucking" I knew what she said and it made me so angry. I clutched at the remote hard. I wanted to throw it at the tv; honestly I did. Sure, what she said was true, but she had no right to say that on tv.

"What makes you say that, Miss Swift?" the reporter asked.

Miss Swift brought her hand to her mouth and giggled.

"Like I said," she began when she took her hand away from her mouth. "Mr. Styles has finally lost it."

I could feel the remote trembling in my hands as I tightened my grip more on it and it fell to the floor when I saw Zayn appear on the screen.

"Mr. Styles has been messed up since his family died. I should know. The asshole used me for his own pleasures."

I scoffed. That was a lie. Harry didn't use him for his own pleasures. If anything he used Harry.

"He claimed that he loved me but then he kicked me to the road when he was done with me," he added.

The reporter then asked him if there was anything fishy going on around Harry's home; aka, me.

"Oh hell yeah. He's got some kid there and there's something up with Mr. Styles' face. Like I'm fucking glad he wears that damn mask. His face is all sorts of fucked up."