Our Plan {narry}

Chapter 12: Movies with bad reviews

         "Liam, I don't think you understand what I'm saying here. He not only called my legs cute, but he also held my hand! Like, with his!" I squealed like an eight year old little girl. I couldn't even process my own thoughts anymore, it was just like my mouth had developed a mind of its own. Quite a scary thought actually. Liam simply smiled at me fondly, and this time, with hesitant amusement, I noticed that the smile reached his eyes. Unlike all of the other times he smiled around me,  I could always tell he was forcing himself to do it for my benefit. This smile however, made his eyes glow with amusement and happiness. And if I looked closely, I thought I could detect a faint sense of finality. Although that very well could have just been my mind over analyzing, though I seriously hoped it wasn't.

"I think I understood what you meant around the tenth time you told me," He stated kindly. That fact that he was teasing me didn't even cross my buzzing mind, I could barely even focus my mind enough to allow me to breathe, which was probably important. The thing was, hours ago I had been prepared to lose my best friend, the person I love. I had been prepared for judgment, hatred, and confusion. And when you have yourself completely prepared for the worst, and instead the best happens, its like you're floating through the clouds. It was like regaining a sense of hope, although in this case I had never really had hope. I was now allowing myself to assume otherwise. I had seen love in Harry's eyes, whether it was brotherly love, or in love didn't matter to me. Love was love. And being loved at all was the absolute greatest. That was beyond true.

"I'm sorry, you just don't understand what its like to feel this way. I feel like I finally accomplished something, which is completely bizarre given that I haven't actually accomplished anything." I rambled on, not even caring that Liam was making a exasperated face, obviously trying to tell me to cut the rambling, not that I would listen anyway. And honestly, I don't think he really wanted me to stop rambling on. I smiled up at the ceiling, and flung my arms into the air, falling backwards onto my back. I thought of Harry, who I had left back in the hotel room before calmly walking into Liam's room, where I had then flipped my mode from calmly happy to overly obsessed teenage fangirl. I suppose he had thought this was amusing, given the bright smile and raised eyebrows I had been greeted with. And now, laying here, thinking about the movie plans I had with Harry later that night, I was feeling okay for the first time in quite a while.

                  I was going to puke. No scratch that, I was going to scream bloody murder. My hair wouldn't stand up right, no matter how many pointless attempts I made to fix it. My eyes were still blotchy from crying only hours before, and my clothes made me look way larger than I had believed I was. No matter how many times I reminded myself that worrying was useless because this wasn't even a date, I still continued to worry. I had been calling Louis into my room every five minutes or so to get his opinion on things. At first he had been completely honest, pointing out little flaws in the outfit, or things he would change. However after around the twentieth time I had called him in here, he had stopped being honest, and instead just told me I looked, and I quote, "absolutely freaking fabulous." After that he had just decided to stay in my room with me. I honestly didn't understand why this outfit was such a big deal, all I was wearing was skinny jeans a shirt. Well, that was what I was wearing up until Louis had decided to throw in some grey scarf and a red jacket, although I was actually thankful he did this, it made me look slightly better. My hands were literally shaking, nails bitten back fingers twitching. It wasn't that this was that big of a deal, but seeing as I was rarely flat out alone with Harry, especially in a dark room where we had to sit flush against each other. Well that and the fact that Harry knew that I could very well be into him, and he still wanted to sped time with me, in the most normal spot for first dates. I didn't even care how absurd it sounded. As Louis hurridly went to fetch Harry, I tried to clam my breathing. What if I was to overdressed? What if he thought I thought this was a date? All thoughts were whipped clean as he stepped into the bedroom. His hair was slightly jelled back, showing off strand of obviously recently washed hair. He wore a tight fitting black shirt, skinny jeans, and boots. Definition of perfect. He smiled in my direction, popping those deadly dimples out, making my knees weak. I was almost certain I smiled back, though I was afraid it was more of my mouth gaping open with drool falling out. His smile widened as he came towards me, Louis in toe. Louis was watching his shoes with intense attention, almost making him seem guilty of something. I'd bring that matter up another time though. This was my time.

 "I'm telling you, I heard that sucks." Harry mumbled, obviously not satisfied with my choice of movie. I rolled my eyes at him, casting a cheeky smile his way.

"So what? I suck too but you still hang around me." I replied cheekily, although on the inside I was worrying that maybe it was to soon for the gay jokes, maybe I'd officially made him uncomfortable. Score one for me, I'd officially outdone myself this time. My worries were lifted, however, when a small smile crept on Harry's face, and I watched as he tried and failed to hold back a cackle. He laughed so hard that I was sure I saw tears shed around the corners of his eyes.

"Niall-Niall that was the best thing anyone has ever said! Seriously, you need to write that one down, no joke. We can see any damn movie you want, none of them are going to entertain me as much as that anyway." He laughed out, smiling fondly at me. I smiled back, now feeling as if I had accomplished my greatest goal in life, making him laugh. Laughing along for no reason in particular, I paid for the tickets, leading a flustered and chuckling Harry along.
   The room was darker than I had imagined when we first arrived. The pleasant thing was, there was only one other couple in the room, that being an elderly couple. This was good, given that I really wasn't in the mood to be mobbed to death today. I half expected Harry to sit with a seat between us, at least for comfort purposes, but to my hidden delight he plopped down right next to me, his arm brushing mine. I glanced over at him, smiling to myself.

      Around half way through the movie, I began to understand two things. One, why the reviews on this movie were bad, and two, why there was only us and an elderly couple in here. This movie sucked more than I ever could. I don't know if Harry meant to, or if he sensed my discomfort, but he slowly lifted his arm, placing it around my shoulders. His hand rested only left shoulder, leaving me to do one of two things. I could pretend it wasn't there, or start taking chances and at least try to claim the hings I want. Although the first one sounded much, much better, I knew everyone would want me to go with the second, and secretly, I think I did too. I casually, so he wouldn't think was uncomfortable, began to slowly rest the side of my head on his hand. I held my breath when I knew he could tell what I was doing, but he still didn't move it. In fact, and I wasn't quite sure if I was imagining things or not, I actually thought I could feel hi hand tighten on my shoulder, and I pretended it was from possessiveness. Please don't judge, I'm a hopeless romantic. I began to wonder i this was eve considered testing the waters. I mean, all of us boys were close and cuddly, an it almost seemed  could see myself doing this with Liam. And if I could see myself doing this with Liam of all people, then it probably seemed rather brotherly. And that was not what I was trying to hint at. Knowing I had to do something else made my hands begin to shake, and I began to tap my good knee nervously. I took a deep breath, willing myself not to have a panic attack, before I brought up my right hand, and shakily laid it over his. I closed my eyes, waiting for him to jerk away or jump. He did, however, pull his hand away. To say my heart dropped would be the understatement of the decade, considering I suddenly felt like crying so hard I drowned in my own tears. As I was beginning to have a mental breakdown, he only made it worse by taking his whole arm off my shoulders. That was probably the coldest I will ever feel, when his arm left my shoulder. I was going to stand up, although I wasn't even sure where I was going to go, maybe to he bathroom, maybe back into a closet. His hand stopped me in my tracks. I felt his fingers circle around my wrist, making goosebumps appear on my arm. I hadn't noticed that he had shifted the way he was sitting, so there was slightly more room in between us. He brought my hand down so it was resting in the small space in between us, and slid his fingers in between mine. Once he was comfortable, he squeezed my hand, almost like he was telling me something. I squeezed it back, and though I wasn't sure if he understood, what I was trying to ask him is "is this ok?" Or something like, "why are you dong this?" Again, I wasn't sure if he understood, but he looked over at me, looking me right in the eyes in the dim light, and smiled.

   

      A/N Call me a dork, but I got MAJOR Narry feels while writing this. Like, you don't even understand. If you would, PLEASE tell me what you think, because I know this is NOT my best piece of writing, and I would like to know how people feel about it. Votes are always loved and appreciated, and thank you very, very much for all of the reads! :)

Sorry for mistakes in this chapter :)