Feelings Don't Fade Away [Narry Storan Love]

chapter four: drunk.

listen to ed sheeran's song "drunk" either during or before or after reading this i'd prefer during but if you can't focus with background noise i understand (: and you guys wanted longer chapters so i tried hard to make this one longer...idk how well it's going to turn out but i'll try <3 and this chapter is dedicated to  mullingarmofo  (: you're right...camping in intense lol & i updated early because i didn't want you to die lol (:
Juliette.!<3

 

I walk home in the pouring down rain. It's like something out of a movie- me, a hert broken boy walking down the street in the rain after confessing his love and being rejected. Well, I wasn't exactly rejected. I'd left before he could say anything else, but I know what was going to happen. I can picture Harry's perfect lips curving up into a sneer as he laughs at me and runs off to tell the whole school. He might even punch me for being so stupid and naive. I wouldn't put it past him to have recorded the whole thing and broadcast it to the entire student population. Anything that could make me want to never come back, he'd do.

Harry’s Range Rover passes by me when I’m about halfway home but I ignore it and move to the other side of the street, away from his gaze. I can feel him staring at me through the glass; I can feel his green eyes locked on my face. I can't bring myself to turn in his direction and see his expression, but I can imagine what it looks like. His green eyes are hard and ice cold, his hands gripping the wheel of his car so tight his knuckles are white. He's disgusted with me, and no doubt himself. How could he ever have been friends with a queer like me, right? How could he ever have hugged me, laughd with me, been near me, played video games with me or even gotten un dressed in front of me to change clothes? All these years I was probably watching him with hawk-like eyes like a bug under a magnifying glass. In reality, I didn't start liking him until I turned 14.

After all these years of keeping that pent up inside me, I finally let it all out. I finally admitted, to myself and to Harry, that I was gay. And in love with him. Harry usually picks on me for being gay, simply because I haven’t dated anyone since freshman year. He really was right.

To be honest, I didn’t really like the girl I’d dated either. Well, obviously I didn’t she wasn’t my type. But she did have curly brown hair, green eyes and a sweet smile. She was the girl version of Harry. But no matter how hard I tried I always found myself falling more and more in love with the male one.

I walk back across the street to the side that my house is on. Of course, I have to walk right past Harry’s house to get to mine. I look up and see him staring at me out of his bedroom window. His face is emotionless and the moment he sees me staring at him he disappears from sight.

Why has he become so hard for me to read? When we were younger I could read him like an open book. He was my Hazza and I was his Nialler- we completed each other. Or so I thought.

Around the time he started pushing me away was when I realized just how deep my feelings for Harry went. I’d always felt attracted to him but when I was younger I just thought it was because we were meant to be best friends. As I got older I started to realize that I was physically attracted to him, not just mentally. I realized it that night we went to the movies for his 14th birthday. I hate horror movies but I went because he wanted to. We sat down in the theatre and I was fine- until the lights dimmed and the movie actually began to play. I was scared shitless and I gripped onto Harry for dear life, not even thinking of my actions. I had known for a while that I felt certain things for him but I didn't know how real they were until Harry put his arm around me and pulled me close. I could hear his heartbeat thumping in his chest and I'd hoped that it was because of me, but now I know it was just due to the movie.

How much of an idiot am I? I’ll answer for you- a huge one. I’m so stupid for letting the flirtatious smile and voluminous curls enchant me. I should be better than that. I’m not some silly cheerleader. I should be immune to his charms and good looks. But even when we were fourteen I knew I wanted him. I wanted him so badly sometimes it hurt (emotionally, of course).

That’s when I started writing. Music and my guitar became my life. I wrote countless songs about my feelings for him. I figured that if I wrote them down the feelings would go away because I’d gotten them out of my system. If anything they’d become magnified. My feelings being put into words only gave me more reminders of how stupid I'd been. Of how stupid I am.

I walk into the front door of my house and walk to the fridge. My mom posted a note there saying that she won’t be back until late because of a meeting. I shrug and grab a six pack of beer from the bottom shelf. She won’t need it anyways. I leave my backpack on the kitchen counter and make my way up to my room. I do this every day- I have since he left. My mom keeps beer in the house for my brother Greg and his friends when they come visit, but he leaves it for me. I think he understands a little of what I'm going through, or maybe he's hoping the alcohol will kill me. Whatever the reason, there's always a sixpack in the fridge when I come home at the end of every day and I take it up to my room to escape to a place where Harry doesn't exist.

I close my door loudly with a bang and look around. All around me are pictures of Harry and I. I chug the first can and throw it away in the trash bin beside my desk. I know I shouldn’t be doing this but it’s the only time I can escape from him. I can escape from all of this. I can escape from his memory and become who I am. Who I want to be. A boy not plagued by the memories of his long lost friend, crush, brother, other half.

A second beer follows the first and I let it join it’s friend in the trashcan. I sit down on the edge of my bed and stare at the two cans. I can already feel a buzz even though I've only just downed the two cans. I stare at the two cans and a scowl crosses my features. For some reason, and maybe this is the alcohol talking, but I envy them; the two cans. They got to stay together…they got to keep their friendship.

“Why’d you leave me!?” I yell, jumping up and kicking the swivel chair at my desk. “What the hell did I do to make you hate me so much!?” I rip the covers off my bed and begin to throw them about the room. I’m drunk but I don’t care. I want to feel something; anything.

I grab another can of beer and down it quickly, wanting to be drunk and to feel something. I want to feel love. I want to feel anything but the pain. The pain of losing someone I love. I stare at the pictures of Harry smiling at me from the walls. I growl like some sort of animal and begin to rip them down one by one. When I have them all ripped down I carry them out to the back yard and put them in an empty trash bin. I walk inside and grab a pack of matches from the kitchen drawers before walking back outside. I grab the lighter fluid from beside the grill. I douse the pictures with the fluid and light a match. As I stare down at the pictures, I certain memory comes to mind.

"Harry," I groan. "Why can't we go on this roller coaster?"

"Because, Ni," Harry mumbles. "I'm scared."

"You're scared?" I stare at him, confused. "But, you went on that other one with me."

"Yeah," He says. "Because you wanted me to. I'm scared of roller coasters."

"Hazza, I'm sorry!" I throw my arms around him and hug him close to my body. The sounds of the amusement park float around us but I'm only focused on the beautiful boy in front of me. I pull back and smile at him, a smile which he gladly returns. "How about I buy you an ice cream to make up for it?"

"With your birthdday money?" He gasps. "Nialler, that's your money! I can't let you do that!"

"Shut up and follow me," I roll my eyse and take his hand in mine, forcing him to walk with me to a concession stand.

“Bye, Harry,” I whisper as I drop the match. His dimples catch fire and all our memories are blown up in flames. I watch one picture in particular as it burns. Me and Harry at the amusement park, him eating the ice cream cone I’d just bought him to make him feel better.