Burning Skies » larry

Chapter 3

Harry woke up to breakfast in bed, and a very guilty-looking Niall sitting at the foot of his bed.

"Good morning." Niall greeted, but his voice lacked its usual cheer.

Harry winced at the sunlight filtering through his window, groaning when he swallowed and noticed just how dry his mouth and throat were. Niall seemed like he was paying close attention, because he immediately handed Harry a glass of water from the tray he'd brought in.

Sitting up, he gratefully accepted the glass and drank. He placed it back on the tray, a smile finding its way onto his face when his eyes fell on the plate of bacon and eggs, positioned in a way so it looked like a smiley face.

"Is it my birthday?" Harry teased, voice scratchy.

Niall looked sheepish. "Can't I make my best friend some breakfast in bed without any occasion?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at him. "The Niall I know would most likely not, actually."

Niall sighed. "Yeah, you're right. This is, well—first off it's a thank you for agreeing to come with me last night to Liam's." Harry went to say something but then Niall continued, "And it's also me apologizing."

Harry frowned. "Apologizing...?"

Niall looked at him curiously. "Surely you remember last night, right?"

Last night. The party. Liam's band and Niall getting swallowed up by his other friends and Harry standing in the backyard and—Louis. The guy who'd decided to talk to him. The guy who smelled like cigarettes. Whose hands burned like cigarettes. Harry gasped quietly as he felt the skin of his arm near the bend of his elbow where Louis had touched him last night.

Harry pulled the sleeve of his jumper up his arm, half-expecting to see a burn mark or even the slightest redness to justify how much he felt like it burned last night, but his skin was unscathed. Soft and pale as it had always been.

"What's that?" Niall asked, peering over the tray to see Harry's arm.

"Um. Sorry, nothing." Harry hastily pulled the sleeve back over his arm. Harry blinked a few times, trying to organize his thoughts. "I...I don't really remember getting home. It's all a bit blurry."

Niall pursed his lips, looking apologetic. "I thought you were high, to be honest."

Harry gasped, genuinely offended. "You know I don't—"

"I know you don't," Niall reassured him, "but it could've happened without your knowledge. Maybe your drink was spiked? Fucking dickheads like that still exist. And I'm really sorry for not being there, it's just that I couldn't find you and—"

"It's not your fault," Harry said sternly, chewing on his lips. He wondered whether he should tell him about Louis. Harry obviously hadn't been drugged since all he had was that canned Coke, but if he told Niall that, how could he explain his behavior to him? Harry himself didn't even know what happened that night. All he knew was that somehow, for some reason, it had something to do with that stranger Louis.

Deciding to avoid the topic for now, Harry began digging into his breakfast. "This looks delicious. Have you eaten breakfast?"

"I have, yeah. I cooked some extra stuff for myself and ate it when you were asleep."

"The fact that you managed not to eat my breakfast tells me that you're really sorry for last night. Which, as I said, wasn't your fault." Harry said, chewing his bacon.

Niall laughed but then shook his head sadly. "I'm still sorry. I'm the one who dragged you there. And I know I've been really pushy—"

"Seriously, stop. You have nothing to apologize for." Harry said sternly. "Now wipe that pout off your face and help me finish this."