Not Again? || l.s

n i n e

n i n e | odd one out

One of a kind but that don't mean that you're all alone
N

ot even tryin', but damn I think it's beautiful
Been looking for another like you but they're out of stock

~ 'misfit' by high dive heart

ツ

Liam and Zayn went to the game, but Harry stayed in his room. They always go to games, though. Liam was a big sports fan, and he refused to miss any of the home games. And Zayn wasn't a big sports fan, but he's a big Liam fan —so he goes, too. Harry didn't want to. He saw no point. For one, he still didn't fully understand the game. For another, being stuffed into a hard seat with people crowded in around him, everyone shouting, was not his idea of a good time.

Plus, he had work to do. So that's what he did, when his room was blissfully empty because Louis was too busy on the field. He needed to get this done, too, because he wouldn't have time to work on it tonight, not when he already had plans.

Fuck. Was he really going through with this? Was he really going to go to this party? It's not his scene. There wouldn't be anyone like him there. The guys that were throwing it were the type that Harry studiously avoided most of the time. Not to mention the fact that Louis would be there, and... Harry would like to avoid Louis for the rest of his life. Really, because every time they looked at each other Louis smirked this smug little smirk, like he knew he has Harry. It's horrible.

It's even more horrible because he's right. Yeah.

It's like —every time they're alone together, there's that tension in the air that there always was, only it's different. It's not like the two of them waiting for the other to pick a fight, like it used to be. It's Harry waiting, wondering when Louis was going to kiss him again, but he liked to think that he wouldn't normally let that happen. That it only had happened because he was too pissed at Louis the last two times to think rationally. Under normal, calm circumstances, when his whole body didn't feel like it's burning with anger or something else, he thought he'd push Louis away.

Harry shook his head, tucking those thoughts away. He focused on his work instead, on reading his book for class, writing down important quotes for the paper he's supposed to write on the antagonist. Only, he didn't have much left to do. He's been working on it all week, and it's nearly done, and before long he's turning the last page.

With a sigh he got out of his chair and headed for his dresser. He's not sure why he did it, but he found himself using the hair gel Liam gifted to him for no reason other than— "You can't just hide it under a beanie every day, Harry", even though that's exactly what Liam did.

In tenth grade, Harry started wearing his hair up because he thought it looked cool, and it was something he stuck with until twelfth grade when he was too busy with school, work, his part-time job, and student council to spend time making himself look better in the morning. Now he pushed it up into that style again, trying not to think about the fact that he's actually putting effort into going to this party because that made him lame, didn't it? 

Whatever.

He changed, too, out of the dirty sweats he'd crawled out of bed and to class because he was exhausted. Lastly, he slid his glasses onto his face, just because. He didn't need them all the time. His sight wasn't really that bad, but he needed them to read, and he liked them.

Their team won the game, unsurprisingly. They always win. He knew this because of the guys running up and down the hall, whooping and cheering. In the next hour, their common room would be filled, doors would be left open. That's how everyone celebrated, while Harry usually locked his door and took advantage of the fact that Louis would be out until late that night, getting shitfaced in celebration of the win.