The Runner ➳ Narry (Book One)

Chapter Fifteen

(Harry's POV)

"Talk to you in the morning. Goodnight," I finally concluded mine and Niall's two hour phone call.

I was exhausted from the run, disappointed that John payed Louis more than he payed me, and flustered from Niall's eagerness to know me. I got him to be patient with me, so that's a plus. We had talked a bit about ourselves, so we both know more about each other already. Not too much, though.

I clicked the 'end' button on my now almost-dead iPhone and walked back into the bedroom that Louis and I were sharing from now on. He was sitting up against the headboard scrolling through his phone, bare chested.

He ran a hand through his feathery hair and locked his phone, putting it down in his lap. "So, who's Niall?" He asked, an eyebrow raised. Clearly, he had heard some of our conversation.

"Just my friend," I replied simply, taking off the black t-shirt that I had borrowed from Niall. His minty smell left my body as I discarded the fabric onto the floor.

"When did you meet him?" Louis asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice. I peeled my skinny jeans off my legs and crawled into the warm bed beside Louis, who gave me a questioning look.

"Yesterday," I replied, pulling the blanket up to my chin and settling down onto the plush pillow, the one I had taken from the house I lived with my mum and step-dad in.

"How is he your friend if you just met him yesterday?" Louis asked, eyebrow raised. "Don't you think you should get to know him?"

"I am getting to know him. And he's getting to know me," I replied, turning my head and looking up at Louis who was still seated against the headboard.

His eyes widened with a flash of worry. "You didn't tell him that you r-"

"No, Louis. I haven't. But I'm going to eventually."

"You can't do that."

"Why not?"

"There's no way he's going to want to be friends with a drug runner."

"That's exactly why I haven't told him," a flash of pain crossed my face as my voice lowered down into an almost-whisper.

Louis gave me a sympathetic look, snaking an arm under the warm blankets and grabbed my hand that was laying on my stomach. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Tell me about him," he said, letting out a long yawn.

"Well," I started, excitement bubbling up in my stomach. "He's Irish. And he's blonde, and has these super blue eyes and really straight teeth. From braces, I'm assuming. He knows a lot about how to take care of cuts, that's where I went last night. He's really nice and has a nice laugh.

"He has a huge house, it's really fancy. He says it's because his parents spoil him, and he's really insightful. He stole a taxi, and honestly I think it's kind of-"

"He stole a taxi?" Louis detached his hand from mine and sat up, narrowing his eyes at me with his lips slightly apart. I just simply nodded, my face going a bit red because I knew I had been rambling. "Do you like him?" Louis asked suddenly.

"Yeah, he's cool," I replied, panic rushing over me. I hope he isn't suspecting anything.

"I mean, do you fancy him?," Louis said slowly, as if he was choosing his words carefully. "More than a friend."

I coughed awkwardly. "I'm not gay, Louis."

"Just because you have feelings for one guy doesn't make you gay. Bisexual?" Louis replied, a smirk playing on his lips.