Crash

Chapter 5

Harry's P.O.V.

I grabbed Charlie's hand, pulling him back towards the door as the town grew smaller and smaller.

"C'mon, Charlie! We have to make sure we get good beds, yeah?" I expressed, starting to jog down the boardwalk.

"Arg Harreh, do we afta' run? I'm a wee bit outta breath, ya' crazy boy." He complained, tugging against me.

I rolled my eyes and continued to jog, dragging him behind me.

Charlie muttered something and I glanced backwards for a brief second.

"Eh, what was-" I started to say before I fell flat on my face. Pain shot through my hands, as they took my fall.

"The bloody hell..?" I heard someone say.

I looked to my left, my ears ringing and saw the handsomest man I've ever seen staring back at me.

"Oops," I whispered as I gazed into his eyes. He was so beautiful, I wasn't even sure he was real. From his smooth jawbone to his light pink lips.

"H-hi...." He stuttered, his face flush with embarrassment at not finding his words. I was so astonished at his soft tone, his voice like velvet on a calm sea. I wanted to eat it up.

His light brown hair was curled in the front, flipping off his tanned face. His eyes were a beautiful sea blue, gazing back into mine.

They quickly turned cold. I blushed, struggling to find words.

"Oh my god! I am so completely sorry! I was just trying to get back to my room with my mate here and I didn't see ya'!" I said, hopping to my feet and holding my hand out to help him up.

He ignored it and stood up, brushing off his black trousers and wrapped his fingers around his red suspenders.

"I wouldn't have fallen to the bloody deck if someone would've been watching where the fuck he'd been going, yeah?" He yelled at me.

I was shocked. This beautiful boy was so ugly inside! It wasn't like I intentionally meant to run into him. But my god. This boy was absolutely everything I've dreamed about. Why was he so gorgeous? I wanted to fuck him so hard, right here, right now.

Instead, I turned my face into a sneer and retorted with, "Who pissed in your tea? I was only trying to be polite, but you're acting like a twat anyway in front of your lady. That's fucked up, yeah?"

Now it was his turn to have confusion sweep his features. I stormed off, leaving Charlie to catch up with me.

"Wot teh bloody ell' was that, Harreh?" Charlie said, once we were alone in the lift. His voice took on the British accent that he's slowly been gaining over the last couple of years.

"I don't know... He confused me, Char... I'm incredibly attracted to that man. Then his personality instantly turned me off, yet I still wanted him?" I said, questioning myself at the last statement.

The man was obviously very into segregation of the classes since he was being so rude, but his eyes when they met mine for the first couple of seconds made me believe he somehow felt the spark too. The spark wasn't small, no. It was like fireworks lighting the sky, going, "BOOM BOOM BOOM! HERE I AM WORLD, I AM THE ATTRACTION BETWEEN THESE TWO MEN!"

"Oh meh gawd, I think ye have a crush, Harreh!" Charlie gushed, grinning ear to ear.

I blushed and looked away. "Nah.. How could anybody be attracted to THAT ugly pile of shit personality?" I joked.

Charlie was still grinning, knowing I was lying and that I liked it.

We walked to our room, finding it already opened. Two men speaking a foreign language were inside.

"Allo'," I greeted them, a smile on my face. "I'm Harry. Harry Styles. This," I said pointing at Charlie," Is my best mate Charlie Jran."

They simply stared at us and took over the other half of the room.

"Well then," I whispered to Char," I guess we won't make friends with these pricks." He chuckled and climbed into the bottom bunk.

I took out my old leather journal and sketched a picture of the angry boy who fascinated me. I drew the slope of his pink lips, curling upwards to show his teeth in a smile. His long eyelashes outlined his icy blue eyes; crinkles by his eyes and lips made him look even more realistic.

I drew his hair that curled upwards towards the sky, the light catching the blond highlights in his waves.

I sighed, closing my journal and turned onto my side.

My back ached from the uncomfortable bunk bed they gave us. I hopped off and rummaged through my sack, grabbing my fluffy blue blanket, piling it on top of my bunk.

Charlie was passed out, exhausted from his run. The foreigners were huddled in the corner, talking in quiet, hushed tones, obviously busy. I climbed back onto my cot and rolled my shoulders back before trying to lay down onto a much softer surface.

I closed my eyes and replayed the first meeting in my head. The boy was beautiful, but had an angry, bitter attitude. I wanted to know what made him like that. I wanted to know his story. I wanted to know him. This boy would be the death of me.