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⚡︎⟡₊ ⊹
monday came and went, and soon enough, you began to settle into a routine. each morning, liam would pull up in front of your house, and you'd ride with him to school.
you'd meet everyone by the entrance, follow liam to your shared classes, joke around with the lot of them at lunch, and then catch a lift home with liam, only to do it all over again the next day.
today felt no different—at least, for the first half. but after lunch, things took a turn, something you weren't too proud of.
your bookbag hangs loosely from your shoulder as you walk down the crowded hallway, serena chatting beside you, liam by your other side. the sea of judgy students flows around you, voices bouncing off the walls, but you barely hear them, eyes fixed on the floor in front of you.
shame gnaws at you from the inside, pulling your gaze downward, until, almost without thinking, you glance up.
your eyes lock with harry's.
he's leaning casually against a set of lockers, his ever-present black ripped jeans and tight black t-shirt clinging to his lean frame. zayn's next to him, and another boy you don't recognise stands by as well.
for a moment, your gaze lingers on harry, taking in the sharp edges of his jawline, the tousled curls, before you quickly look away, a blush creeping up your neck.
liam and serena exchange glances, sensing the tension, but say nothing as the three of you exit the building. they promised to skip the rest of the day, just to keep you company.
back inside, harry's still leaning there, but he noticed—of course, he did. he felt your eyes on him, that burning gaze as unmistakable as ever. but he doesn't mind it. he's used to being stared at, especially by girls. you were probably just curious like the rest.
"oi, seen the new girl?" the ginger-haired boy beside him asks, crudely grabbing himself and nudging harry.
harry doesn't even bother to respond, shaking his head with indifference.
the boy was an idiot, always sticking around despite neither he nor zayn giving him the time of day.
he was disrespectful, especially toward women, and harry couldn't be bothered with that.
zayn rolls his eyes and gives harry a tap on the forearm, signaling it's time to head out. the two of them saunter through the hall, pushing the door open and stepping outside—the same door you'd just left through minutes earlier.
perched on the steps, zayn pulls out a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of his lighter.
harry takes one as well, letting out a long exhale as the smoke curls lazily into the crisp air. the buzz is calming, and for a brief moment, the world seems quiet.
