Two Roads ≫ l.s

4

Harry's POV

The night was actually pretty clear, much to my surprise. Having such a clear night for a town that was either raining or clouded over with grey weather was pretty unusual to say the least.

The rain didn't bother me that much. I was never really out of my house enough to be bothered by it. The clouds bothered me more, especially at night, on account of the fact they were almost constantly blocking out the beautiful stretch of starlit sky behind it.
I loved the stars. They were behind most of the inspiration that I wrote into my songbook. They were what I'd longed to gaze up at every night, but obviously that was something I could so rarely do, which meant noticing how clear the sky was tonight had me almost so distracted I nearly ended up abandoning all of my bags and laying myself down, the hard road against my back as my eyes trailed over every constellation I could see.

Of course, I didn't do this. Passers-by would probably either think I'd spontaneously fainted onto the road, or that I was completely out of my head (which, to be honest, they probably did anyway). But I managed to sneak up as many glances at the sky as I could, painting the pictures of the Big Dipper, Orion's Belt and the North Star in the blackness that the glimmering pinpoints were surrounded by.

I always felt as if the stars had so much freedom that I lacking. They were all constantly burning alongside each other in the colossally infinite universe, each and every one of them effortlessly beautiful. They were what people would gaze up to on romantic dates sitting on a balcony in Paris, or what astronomers, or even college students studying astronomy, would peer at every night into their professional-type telescopes, expertly studying and naming all the pictures in the sky the stars joined up into, most of which outside my limited knowledge of them. I wasn't even widely educated on the stars. I was just consumed in utter fascination by them. And, admittedly, I was even jealous of them.

Well, stars don't have to do homework.
I grinned to myself, dragging my suitcase along the pavement and hearing the hollow sound of its clunky wheels pierce through the silent atmosphere of the night.

It wasn't even late yet; it was only 7pm, so the noise of my old suitcase probably wasn't too much of a disturbance for the neighbourhood. The heaviness of my guitar on my back was becoming a chore to keep lugging around, and I was beginning to debate whether it was worth even bringing or not. But then again, if I couldn't spend more than 2 days without it, that would make spending 4 whole weeks without it even less likely. It was as if it was my life source. Which, in a case, it was.

Songwriting and guitar playing were playing a significant role in keeping me alive. Alongside my favourite bands, such as the Maine, for one. They were the source of a considerable amount of inspiration that went into the lyrics of my songs, and also the band that inspired me to start playing the guitar in the first place. So, in which sense, if they were the cause of my songwriting and guitar playing, I had the Maine to thank for keeping me alive altogether. Thanks, guys.

I tightened my grip on the suitcase, staring up at the sky again in complete mesmerisation until I felt myself suddenly halt with a bump. My eyes shot down from the sky and down to the indignant-looking teenager I had just accidentally rammed myself into.

"Watch where you're going!" He called out rudely as I flushed red, and tried to hide my face. "Freak..." I ducked my head, quickening my pace and refusing to look up again.

Overcome with painful embarrassment, I hadn't actually noticed that I was already nearly at Zayn's house, which slightly helped with the relief. His house was actually in my vision, meaning I didn't have that long to walk and even I could probably manage it without walking into some other person while looking upwards and feeling jealous of burning balls of gas.