27 Tattoos

You woke up in Harry’s bed, under the covers. The last thing you remember was putting on his t-shirt and sitting in the bath, how the hell did you get here? You sat up and rubbed your eyes, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and getting up. Walking into the front room, you expected to see Harry smirking at you, for the amount of your skin on show, only being in boxers and a t-shirt. Instead you find him asleep on the couch, that’s weird, you thought, why didn’t Harry sleep with me? Not that you wanted him to, of course, it was just strange. You and Harry had a bit of a row last night, and you felt bad for leading him on, so you put the kettle on and made him a cup of tea. A murmur came from the sofa and Harry’s eyes started to flutter open, you brought his tea to him then place it on the table across from the sofa. Harry must have fixed that from when he threw it across the room, you thought. He looks up at you with one eye open, a confused look on his face,

“(Y/N)?” he asks, puzzled.

“Uhm, yeah. Who else would it be?” You reply, giggling, he just smiles, a dopey look on his face.

“I dunno. I guess I didn’t think it was you as you were being nice to me.” He replies cheekily with a smirk on his face.

“I’m not always mean to you.” You reply, annoyed by his comment, you weren’t always mean to him… Were you?

“You are but it’s cool. You don’t like me, I get it. You don’t like my tattoos and piercings. You don’t like the fact that I smoke, take drugs and drink alcohol. You don’t like how I live. You just don’t like me even when I’m trying. I’m trying so hard for your opinion to change and it won’t. So I’m sorry you see me in the way that you do, I’m sorry you believe all the rumours about me. I’m sorry I can’t live up to your standards.” Harry says, his voice quietening towards the end, his head bowed. You feel so guilty, he was trying, he was really trying to make a good impression and you were being a bitch to him. Then again, he did try and feel you up in the shower, scared off any possible friends and kidnapped you. He did save you from getting raped though; you could tell he was trying. “Listen, (Y/N). Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop you off back home now anyway, here are your clothes and shoes.” He said handing you your belongings, you just smile and give him a quick nod as you walk to the door.

The car ride back was silent; you and Harry just didn’t get on. Most of that was your fault. You didn’t want to get to know him, he wasn’t good for you. Still, you didn’t have to be a bitch all the time. Harry pulled up outside your house and gawked, yeah he’d driven you home before but last time were just you two arguing.

“What’s up?” You giggled; he shut his mouth and laughed.

“Your house is fucking massive.” He stated, his bluntness made you laugh. You thought about it, you and Harry, and you decided to make a truce. Leaning into his open window you say.

“Look Harry, I know I’ve been a real bitch to you, I guess I just believed what everyone said about you, and you kidnapping me and trying to feel me up in the shower didn’t help. But, I’m willing to wipe the slate clean and start over. I won’t listen to any rumours people are saying and I’ll just judge you for you from now on, as long as you do the same with me.” You finish and Harry stares at you in disbelief.

“Uhm, y-yeah.” He manages to stumble out.

“Great, well see you at school tomorrow.” You sing and jog to your front door, opening it and being greeted by your mother.

“So, how was El’s?” She asks, El’s? What does she mean ‘El’s’? Shit, you remember. Harry’s cover up story, I could expose him and have a restraining order filled, you think to yourself. You then remembered about trying not to be a bitch, fuck.

“Yeah, it was great. I’ve got homework anyway, bye.” You shout, running up the stairs, you’re not good at lying, especially to your mother.

It was about half 10 at night and you were getting ready to get in the shower for bed, when your phone rings, ‘Unknown Caller’ you answer anyway.

“Hello, is this (Y/N)?” You hear a thick irish accent through the phone.

“Urm, yeah. Is this Niall?” You ask, assuming it’s him due to his voice.

“Yup!” he says popping the ‘P’. “So (Y/N), I was wondering if you would like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?” He asks shyly through the phone. A date, with Niall? He was sweet… And incredibly hot. Yeah sure, why not. You go girl.

“Yeah, I’d love to Niall.” You say sweetly.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 6!” He says, cheerily.

“I’ll text you my address, I’ve got to go now. Night, Niall.” You beam.

“Night, (Y/N)!” He shouts through the phone as you hang up. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you get in the shower. You really liked Niall, so why did you feel like you were doing something wrong by saying yes to him?