Let Me Know. (Narry a.u)

O b s e s s e d

| Harry POV |
      The alarm blared in the young boys ears, causing him to wake from a very prodigious sleep. There was absolutely no doubt— Harry was not a morning person. More often than not, he was grumpy and moody. This morning? Well, it wouldn't be any better. He'd been in high school long enough to learn that, despite what others had always told him, it didn't get better. At least not for him, it didn't.
      Murmuring little complaints under his breath, Harry rose to his feet, and walked over to his closet. His mind was still clouded with sleep, as he yanked a pale blue sweater from its hanger. It was very chilly outside, he knew. So this would be comfortable. Along with the sweater he'd picked, Harry would wear a pair of white jeans as well as a pair of white converse. How he kept them clean, he would never know.
      Normally, Harry didn't put much effort into what he wore. Although, recently, he'd had a change in heart. He wanted to be adorable. To be noticeable. Not by everyone, of course. But by one person in-particular. Niall Horan. Or, as he was required to call him, Mr. Horan.
      Shaking all of his morning thoughts away, the young lad made his way down a long stair case, which lead to the living area. Of course, he saw no parental figures. This wasn't a very unusual thing. It was actually what he, himself, considered normal to be. This was the way it had always been for him. Considering the fact that his mother and father traveled for a living, he realized that this was just the way it had to be.
      Looking up at the clock once he reached the kitchen, he shook his head. Late, once again, he would be, if he wanted to eat the breakfast that lie waiting for him. "Amanda," his pitchy voice called, "thank you for breakfast!" Proper to him, it was, to always thank people. Or to say sorry, even if you knew you'd done nothing wrong. This was just the way he'd been taught to live.
      Longing to taste the amazing breakfast Amanda had prepared for him, he only grabbed an apple instead. If he'd began to eat, he wouldn't want to stop. He had to restrain himself now from doing such a thing.

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      Later at school, Harry sat all alone at lunch. But, that was okay. He enjoyed the peace and quiet, anyways. Peace and quiet was always much better than drama, and yelling. Although, sometimes he did long for friends.
       After lunch, around 1:45 PM, he made his way to his locker complex, which seemed to be miles away from his favorite teachers class— Mr. Horan. Quickly, Harry picked up his Literature text book, along with a journal he always kept by him. The only other thing he carried was a pencil.
        As he made his way through the crowded hallways, he struggled to get past everyone. The lad was sadly very petite. Around 5'3, and 17 years old. A Junior in High-school. This was very uncommon. At least, for guys, anyways.
       Soon enough, he arrived at the classroom door. Room 283. Just seeing the numbers on the door, brought a dimpled-smile to his face. Tightly, he clutched his books to his chest as he made his way in, and sat down in his assigne
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