seasons of love | Narry Storan AU

chapter 2.

2015.

"I don't think I can handle this, dad", Niall finally blurts out.

He's with his father Bobby, going for the New York University for the very first time. He's about to study music — not that he wants to be a singer or something like that. No. Definitely no. Niall wasn't made to perform on stages for thousands of fans. He truly believes he was born to work behind the scenes, as a musical producer, as someone who writes for other artists, as someone who could make a beat out of a bucket and call it music.

He truly believes in making other people's dreams coming true. But, of course, he wants to build his own life first.

When he and his father, who is driving the car, stop at a red traffic light, Bobby turns around to face his son.

"You're just scared, Niall." And the young Horan knows his father knows it by just looking in his eyes. "It's a whole new world, I totally understand. When I came to America so I could study..."

"Oh, here we go again", Niall rolls his eyes.

"Can I finish? Okay. When I came to study in America, I was just as scared as you. I was trying to know myself, trying to deal with things I didn't know at the time. But I gave myself space, so I could think about everything that was about to happen, and I told myself to just breathe. To go with the flow, or something like that."

"Don't you ever say that again, please."

"At least you get what I'm saying, right?" Niall agrees, nodding his head.

Minutes later, Niall and Bobby are finally walking the hall of the NYU's rooms, with two wheeled suitcases on Niall's hands and a cardboard box in his father's arms. Once they find the room 101, the one where the young Horan is going to stay, they look at each other and share a hug. A simple one. All the words they want to tell each other are in the way the father embraces his son in his arms.

"Take care of yourself, son."

"I will, dad."

"Call me if you need anything."

"I will, dad."

It's all there. It's all between the lines. Ever since Bobby became a divorced man from Niall's mom, they learned to talk to each other through gestures like this. Words just stopped being enough for them.

The new college student on the block watches his father walk away from his presence with long and somewhat painful steps. Bobby Horan soon becomes just another blur in the middle of the NYU mess, and Niall puts his bags down to finally open the door to the place that will be his home for years to come.

There's another man already there. Sleeping in the top bunk bed, peaceful and slow breath coming in and out of his nose, hands resting below his head. Shirtless. His two suitcases are still unpacked, right aside from the bunk bed.

Niall stares at the scene for what he considers to be a very long time, because two minutes later, the man is looking back at the Irish lad.

"Are you enjoying the view, dude?" He asks, sitting up on his mattress.

"What?" Niall shakes his head, finally closing the door behind him and reaching for the bottom bed. "Just staring at my future."

"Me?"

"The room." He rolls his eyes while answering the man's question. Once he puts his things upon his bed, he stands on his feet and offers his right hand to his new roommate. "Niall Horan."

"Harry Styles." He doesn't shake Niall's hand, however. Embarassed with what's happening, the Horan boy just puts his hand down. "Don't bother me, I'm trying to take a nap."

Rude, Niall thinks. Rude.