I would just like to know why people judge others for their sexuality. I mean really, love is love people. And why are people judged for saying they support gay marriage and the LGBT community, whether they're gay or not? I mean, really? I will say it right now, I am 100 % straight, AND I SUPPORT GAY MARRIAGE! Get over it! Anways, ON WITH THE STORY!
December 2, 2012
The next morning, Harry woke up in his dorm room in Chapman Hall, which is one of the six dorms on campus. At first everything was groggy, and he couldn’t remember a thing about the day before. After he had lain in bed for around twenty minutes, just staring at the plain white ceiling above him, he just couldn’t take the cold, morning air any longer. He sat up slowly, trying not to wake up too fast.
Looking around he could see that his navy blue sheets were tangled around his legs, meaning he had a restless night. He rubbed at his eyes, still trying to remember how he had even gotten into his dorm room in the first place. He shrugged it off as unimportant, and got out of the bed.
As he placed his feet slowly onto the floor, the memories of the day before came flooding back to him. Going to the rally, seeing Niall, and having Victor driving him home before he went back to his family’s townhouse. Gooseflesh rose on his pale, exposed skin as the wintry air bit at his naked body. London’s usual chilly weather had ceased for a day, making it slightly sunny and warm, but it hadn’t lasted long. He had been so exhausted the night before he had forgotten to turn on the heater.
He got out of bed slowly, rubbing a hand through his surely messy hair as he walked over to his small closet. Completely uncaring about the fact that he had no underwear on, he pulled out a pair of baggy sweatpants and pulled them on, followed by a thick cardigan.
He got a bottle of water out of his tiny refrigerator, unscrewed the cap, and stuck it in the microwave before turning the heater on high. After the water was boiling, he poured it into a mug that said “Viva Las Vegas,” and dunked in a tea bag.
It was Sunday, which was Harry’s only day off. His schedule was very peculiar, but because he took both AP classes and regular electives, he had school on every day except Sunday. He was very religious as a boy; just like every mother where he was from, his mum took him to church every Sunday morning. He was even in the boys’ choir. But since he got accepted to Webberly Academy, he couldn’t be bothered to go to church.
Once he felt the tea bag ad soaked enough, he tossed it into the trashbin and added sugar. Sunday was normally the day he caught up on all of his homework, but since he only had two weeks of class left before Christmas vacation, he didn’t really have anything to do except study. And of course study his lines for the Christmas drama. Ugh. Just the word Christmas left a bad taste in his mouth.
At the thought of the holiday his blood ran cold. The gooseflesh that rose on his skin for the second time that day had nothing to with the weather. The memories of that night three years before were suddenly pushed to the front of his mind with brute force. He could remember the smell of alcohol and the taste of blood in his mouth…no. No. He could not go down that road again. Not then, not ever. If he did, he wasn’t sure he could come back.
He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out through his mouth. It was time to stop lying about and face the day ahead of him.
* * * * * *
After finishing up his tea and getting completely dressed, Harry grabbed his bag and headed downstairs to the lounge. Being the teenage boy that he was, he just had to buy one of the muffins that were being sold at the café. His stomach was a growling so much he could have sworn there were butterflies inside.
The thought of a stomach full of butterflies brought him up short. Niall Horan’s flushed face suddenly filled his vision, and it was all that he could see. Harry had never really been friends with Niall. Actually, he had never even talked to the boy. But the way that he looked at him the day before, with such intensity, made Harry go weak at the knees. He didn’t know why he was having such thoughts about Niall. After all, they had never made actual contact. Not to mention the fact that his friends were all homophobic and made his life hell. He just knew that he felt something towards him, he just wasn’t sure what exactly.
Which brought him back to the same question that had been replaying in his mind all night: What was Niall doing at that rally?
* * * * * *
With his muffin in his hand and his scarf bunched tightly around his neck, he made his way across campus to the library. He had to get some studying in, and he knew the library was the only place he would focus. His dorm room held too many distractions, and the lounge was full of people. The weather had gone back to its usual self, dull, dreary and cloudy. Harry could already feel the sting of the light drizzle of rain being whipped at his face by the wind.
He walked in, the little bell at the top of the door jingling slightly, and made his way to the stairs, where he proceeded to the top floor. Few people ventured to the top floor, and he knew it would be the best place to study. He walked through the stacks of books until he found his favorite table. It was square and small, and shoved in a corner behind the rows and rows of shelves.
He settled into his a chair and pulled out his laptop. As he waited for it to boot up, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Why are we up here Zayn? No one’s ever up here?” he heard a voice whine.
“I already told you. There’s a book up here I need for my medical terminology exam. Once I get it, we can leave!” Zayn exclaimed.
“Ugh, fine. Just make it fast.”
The footsteps became muffled, by what Harry assumed was the carpet, before he saw four bodies walking through the stacks in front of him. At first he was uninterested. It wasn’t normal for people to come upstairs, but they did occasionally. It wasn’t until he saw a familiar glint of blonde hair and a red sweater that he wished he had the power to disappear.
“What book was it again?” Niall asked. “We’ll help you find it.”
“Um..” Zayn looked over a crumpled piece of paper. “Major Cuts and Lacerations: Infection. By Mary McClanahan.”
They all spread out, looking in different rows. It was just Harry’s luck that Niall started to walk further down the row he was already on, towards Harry, while the others went in separate directions. Harry sunk lower into his chair. The movement must have caught Niall’s eye, because his head jerked to the side, and his eyes met Harry’s for the second time in less than 24 hours. Harry’s eyes went wide as Nial slowly began to walk towards him. What if he wanted to talk about the day before? Harry’s heart fluttered in his chest, and he could feel his cheeks flood with heat.
Niall stopped less than a foot away from Harry and leaned down.
“We need to talk.” He breathed into Harry’s ear, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Harry could feel his breath on the back of his neck.
“I found it!” Zayn exclaimed, causing Harry to jump.
“Yes! Now we can leave!” Louis said jovially.
“Niall? Where are you mate?” Zayn called.
“I’m coming!” he said back. He began walking towards the door to the stairs, but not before he gave Harry a pointed look over his shoulder.
After he heard the door to the stairs clang closed and the footsteps down the stairs, Harry sat low in his chair, trying to calm his breathing.
