Nightingale [h.s.]

14: Dark Horse

Harry's POV

Bailey and I kept spending more and more time together as the weeks passed by.

It was almost the end of the school year and we'd be going the summer after.

Every day was different and similar with Bailey. We no longer went to the alley and got wasted and I like it that way very much and I know she did too.

Her personality was different when she wasn't drunk. When she was under the influence, she'd be careless and very social and brave around anyone.

When she wasn't drunk was a whole different story. All of her bravery and carelessness would be washed away and replaced by shyness and compassion.

She'd still be up for anything but she was a shy little thing. It reminded me so much of how she was years ago and I loved it.

My heart was in the middle at the moment. Seeing Becks made me feel alive again but it still gave me the edge that she didn't know a thing about her past.

Apart from that, everything was going better than I expected.

She made me my own Instagram the day after our movie day. I had five hundred followers on there and she was the first one who followed me and who I followed.

I haven't posted anything yet, I just haven't had any picture that I'd want to put online. I wasn't very interesting with pictures.

Bailey on the other hand, was an expert with pictures. She showed me all the types of apps she had on her phone and I swear I never knew there were so many ways to edit pictures.

She always cropped them so there'd be a white border around them, and she'd use some cool app that had different filters to edit a picture with.

All of her pictures contained of her and her friends, the different views of the sky at any time of day, places in London, and a few selfies she had taken.

All of them were of her smiling and that's the only way I wanted to see her. Smiling. If I ever saw her crying or upset, then I'd be crying and upset.

Her pain was my pain.

**

I yawned, bored of the lecture the professor was teaching. I was sure I wasn't the only one bored of old Shakespeare and his depressing stories.

"You yawned," someone whispered behind me and I nearly fell off my chair.

"Holy-"

"Shh," Bailey shushed me quietly and giggled. "Don't cuss or else you'll get kicked out." A giggle escaped her lips again.

I ignored her and asked her, "Is there a problem with my yawning or something?"

"No," she giggled as the professor kept lecturing the class, not paying attention to us who were talking.

"Then why did you say that?"

"Cause, I yawned before you yawned."

"And?"

She rolled her eyes and her smile grew wider. "If you yawn after I yawn, it means that you were staring at me before. Yawns are contagious."

"I wasn't staring," Okay, maybe a little.

Bailey rolled her eyes again as if she didn't believe me and I'm pretty sure she didn't. She was very observant to what surrounded her.

"Whatever, now pay attention!" She whispered, and relaxed back into her seat while I turned around and shook my head with a smile on my face.