The Runner ➳ Narry (Book One)

Chapter Eighteen

The way I held Niall close was amazing. There was no better feeling in this world. Not even getting high was this enjoyable. Unfortunately, our time got cut short by the harsh knocking on the other side of the door. Louis was signalling me to hurry up so we wouldn't be late for our run, but I really didn't want to end this.

Niall pulled away first though, leaving a familiar cold shock throughout my body. "You should get going," he said with a small smile. "You have that reservation."

"What?" I asked, confused. Then, I mentally slapped myself for not remembering the code word. "Oh, yeah. The reservation. I'll text you later though," I said.

"Okay," Niall said shyly. I wasn't sure if I should wait to kiss him or do it now. Would he mind? It would be way too rushed. I'd want to savour it. So, instead I dipped my head and placed a kiss on his cheek, just like I had done earlier.

"Bye Harry," Niall said with a smile. I returned the gesture before opening the front door, my face red as I met Louis' bored eyes on the other side.

"Took you long enough," he said as we started walking towards the sidewalk. "Were you snogging or what?"

I shoved him harshly, making him laugh like a maniac. "No, we were not snogging."

Louis grabbed my shoulder and pulled me down to his height, jokingly sticking his tongue out and making kissing noises. "Come on Harry, get your tongue in here."

I laughed and pushed him off, him doing the same as he had to stop walking to catch his breath. "You're so gross," I commented with a chuckle.

"Did anything happen though?" Louis asked after he had recovered from his laugh attack.

A deep blush rose up to my cheeks, making me smile. "I don't know."

Louis gasped. "You're such a liar! What happened?"

"Nothing happened," I said, looking at Louis. His excited eyes dropped and his smile faded, being replaced by a frown.

"Fine, don't tell me," he pouted. I shook my head at him with a smile. Just like how I remember him.

----------------------------------------

"Hundred pounds, mate." Louis' face was stone cold and hard as he held out his hand to the dread-locked man standing on the other side of the door. I could smell weed and something spicy coming from in his home. He raised a thick eyebrow.

"Hundred, hey? I can get elsewhere for eighty," he said in a Jamaican accent.

"We already made the trip. Pay up," I said harshly, giving him my signature death glare. The man's gaze shot from Louis over to me, where his eyes went from angry to holding a bit of fright. He took a second to collect himself before his face went cold again, but his eyes still saying he was afraid.

"Or what?" He asked cockily.

"Or I'll fucking snap your neck right here, right now," I spat back, stepping forward and reaching my hands out to strike him in his thin chest, but Louis grabbed hold of my wrist and yanked me backwards, causing my back to collide with his shoulder.

"Harry, stop. You're going to get us in trouble again," Louis whispered harshly into my ear. My cold gaze never left the dread-locked man's face. He held his hands up in defence, his whole expression now full of fear. Louis let go of my wrist and held his hand out again. "One hundred."

The man looked from Louis to me and caught my eye. He quickly patted his pockets, looking for his wallet but never leaving eye contact with me. His shakily pulled out bills and handed them over to Louis, keeping his distance from me.