Oblivious [stylinson au]

1.6 ➸ sixth entry

sixth entry

I’m drowning,

No one is helping,

I called for your help,

But you’re not there to save me.

I used to think,

You are my guide to home,

The rope to my anchor,

The compass to my ship.

✖

It was a Sunday night when Harry felt something was off. He may be thinking too much, way, way, too much but he thought something bad was going to happen. He wasn’t sure if it’s going to happen to himself, Louis or his family. Although, he prayed that his sub-conscious was wrong to predict something like that.

Well, it wasn’t his fault that he had been over-thinking because he was alone the whole day, up until it was almost nine o’clock in the evening. Louis was out as always, since the past two months and Harry thinks Louis might have run out of any excuses for his absence in the flat. Believe it or not, it had been two months since Eleanor had came into both Louis and Harry’s lives.

Harry had neglected his journal for a while. The reason was that he had gotten a job at the nearest book shop and well, he had occupied his time reading love stories. He knew it was very girlish of him to do so but at least he had gained knowledge about why Nicholas Sparks’ book were so good like everyone would say. And yes, the people were right. Nicholas Sparks was very talented.

Back to the main subject, the actual reason why he decided to finally get a job was because he felt lonely in the flat. Niall lived outside of the town where Harry lived so it was hard for them to see each other, Louis rarely spends time with him anymore and he had grown tired of cooking when it turned out he’s the only one finishing his own dishes.

Harry was cooking a plate of spaghetti for himself to eat when he heard the front door flung open. He knew it was his flat mate so he simply ignored instead of greeting him. His ears perked up when he heard a feminine voice sounded from the living room.

She’s here, Harry thought to himself as he groaned.

“Harold!” Louis said happily when he entered the small kitchen.

“What?” Harry asked with a fleeting look. He really had lost his appetite because of the presence of that girl. His guts were right after all.

Louis seemed to not affect by Harry’s not-so-cheery mood since he proceeded to sit on the counter top where Harry was transferring his spgahettii from the hot pan into a big bowl. “Harold, I am feeling so happy right now!”

“Oh, I wonder why . . .” sarcastically Harry replied.

“I’ve asked Eleanor to be my girlfriend, Haz!”

“Shit!” The curly-haired lad cursed after getting one of his fingers burned when it came contact with the hot pan. “I . . . I need to go.”

“How about your spaghetti?” Louis asked, half-shouted from the kitchen when Harry decided to leave in an abrupt manner.

Harry yelled back in a hurry as he quickly walked towards his bedroom, “I’ve lost my fucking appetite.”

-

First off, bad poem, I know. Secondly, I’m sorry if I bore you with the constant mention of EleanO. As always, leave me with your thoughts. I love comments : )