complicated. [n.s]

14. awkward

"hey. so are we ready to start this sleepover?"

"er... yeah. just - eh, put your bag on the floor."

"you don't have a room for me to stay in?"

"oh, yeah, i do, but right now i need to make some dinner."

"can't you just tell me where the room is?"

"sure. upstairs and it's the first room on the left."

harry went upstairs and placed his bag in the room, then raced downstairs as soon as he heard a lot of pots and pans clattering.

"niall! you okay?"

"yeah... ah, it hurts."

"wow... what happened?"

"i couldn't reach the shelf and the pots all fell out. one landed on my toe. ah, shit!"

"why do you put the pots and pans up so high!"

"i didn't! my friend zayn reorganized my kitchen yesterday. little butt knows i can't reach that high, he probably did this on purpose."

"wait? you have a friend named zayn who comes in and organizes your kitchen?"

"yes, i have a friend named zayn, but he doesn't just organize my kitchen. he crashes here a lot."

"where does he crash?"

"in the... oh."

"in the what?"

"er... guest room."

"oh. do you want me to sleep on the couch when he does that?"

"no, it's fine! you can stay in the room. zayn has been here millions of times, he'll be okay with sleeping on the couch. probably."

"niall, i know you don't really want me here. i can practically feel the awkward coming off of you."

"it's not--"

"no, it's okay. really. if your friend zayn comes, i'll take the couch for the night. i'm the one intruding."

"you're not intruding, harry."

"well, my visit was kind of unexpected and the sleepover thing was forced upon you."

"right... because i might be 'a danger to myself.'"

"i hope you aren't mad at them."

"they're just being concerning friends. i'm glad they're worried. it kind of flatters me that they think about me."

"exactly! they're just being friends."

"like you, right?"

"huh?"

"you're just being a friend. a really nice friend."

"yeah! o-of course. friend. that's me. that's what i'm being."

harry had to turn around to hide his red hot face.

"it's nice to have a friend, though. i didn't have a lot of them where i came from."

"where did you come from exactly?"

"don't you know? mullingar in ireland. i was always one of the unpopular kids, so right before i moved i changed myself completely. when i moved here, i was determined to be not-shy and talk to anyone!"

"what were you like before?"

"i dunno. shy, terrified of humans, antisocial. i liked to work alone and keep to myself. i never got bullied, i never really got called on by teachers, and i never was noticed. i was just that kid in your class that you'd always forget the name of."

"that doesn't sound like you at all."

"i know!"

"but do you think that your new personality has attracted a lot of... attention?"

"what do you mean?"

"eh, nothing. never mind."

"mr. styles, you are in my house. you don't get to drop the subject. tell me what it is."

"like... from guys and girls."

"what do you mean?"

"that's the reason why you've slept with a lot of guys and girls. because they take your friendliness for granted."

"for your information, harry, when i took a girl home, i was usually drunk. and we never really slept together, i only made that mistake a couple of times. we just made out a lot, and maybe she'd give me a quickie. nothing big."

"nothing big? niall, that's huge!"

"can we please stop talking about this?"

"what about the guys you took home?"

niall paused. there was a very long and awkward silence.

"i'm not gay, harry."

"i'm aware you think that."

"i don't think that, i know it."

"whatever."

"i'm just trying to be a friend."

"what do you want for dinner, harry friendly styles?"

harry was shocked at the change of subject all of the sudden, but brushed it off. the conversation was awkward for both of them.

"whatever you make, i'll eat."

"look at you! the perfect house guest! what do you think about barbecued chicken?"

"i'm up for it!"

"great!"

just then, the doorbell rang.

"oh. uh, that must be zayn."

"oh."

"yeah. get ready for a new friend!"