The Distance Between Us (Harry Styles AU)

Harry

 I always thought that I was different. I mean, I guess everyone is different, but I feel like I’m really different. For instance, I have tattoos, but I didn’t choose to get them, but they just appeared. I tried to ask my dad about it, but he told me not to worry about it but not to tell anyone. When I was younger I thought it was cool to have a special secret, but now it’s annoying. I hate hiding how or when I got my tattoos. The only person I’ve told about them, besides my dad, is my best friend, Louis. He says that he’s jealous and that he wished he could do that too, but I feel like it’s more of a curse. No one else has tattoos just appear on them, but they get them done in a normal tattoo parlor, where they’re supposed to be given. Another thing about them is that I have absolutely no idea what any of my tattoos mean. I mean, there’s one on the bottom of my foot that I’ve had as long as I can remember that’s of my name, and there’s not really any others right now other than a key on my ankle that represents my name. Supposedly Harry means house protector but whatever. When I asked about my tattoos to my dad now, who also has a full left sleeve plus more, he says he’ll tell me when the time is right. I’m twenty. How is it not the right time to tell me why I have my name on the bottom of my foot and writing across my wrist that says, “I can’t change…” What can’t I change from?

As always, I have to start my day at Uni. I’m a full time student at Manchester United and that’s about it. I’m not good at sports, I don’t do anything really dealing with raves or whatever, but I do work in a small coffee shop on the corner of my street. I live about a mile off campus so the café sits right in the middle of the two. Even though I work there, it is kind of my escape. I don’t really like the smell of old books or anything; so, when I need to study or just want to be somewhere other than my apartment, that’s where I am; working or not.

“Harry, are you up yet?”

Well there’s my roommate, well one of them, who can’t seem to leave me alone in the mornings.

“Yes Louis, I am awake,” I respond groaning as I finally get out of my bed after laying in it ten minutes after I’ve turned off my alarm. I really do appreciate when one of the guys wake me up or make sure I’m getting ready because I seem to miss a lot of my morning classes or arrive late to work. Whoops.

Luckily Louis doesn’t push any further about me getting up as I hear him go in his room across the hall and close the door behind him. Louis is one of the three boys I live with. He’s really my best friend since secondary school when we were both fifteen. Granted we are complete opposites to people because Louis is more outgoing than I am, but really when we’re home, he’s just as much like anyone else. It’s actually weird how much he changes when out in public but he says he never really notices. I notice. When we stay in, he’ll leave his hair alone and will let it fall in his face before swishing it to the side or deciding to put on one of those hideous headbands he likes; though, he never wears them out of the house. If he ever goes out, no matter where it is, he says he needs to look presentable, and if he’s comfortable, then it’s a bonus. Also, Louis always wears his glasses at home, which make him look a couple years younger but in a cute way, but he always puts his contacts in and quiffs up his hair before he goes anywhere. That guy is like Hannah Montana I swear. Everyone always jokes around about me and Lou dating, but really we just know each other so well. Too well maybe. I don’t mind though. We just go along with it and hold hands or something if anyone ever brings it up.

As I look through my clothes for the day, I end up going with what I always wear. I first change into some new boxer briefs, some black skinny jeans that people say are a little too tight- but are my favorite- and a black scoop neck t-shirt. Louis complains that I always look so plain, so just to piss him off, sometimes I put on one of my many bandanas or head scarves just to “spice things up.” I look myself over in the bathroom mirror knowing that this will just have to do because I’m running a little late for history as it is. I quickly brush my teeth before messing up my curls in my gray and white bandana of the day before heading to the kitchen to see the rest of the boys.