hopeless hearts just passing through
Niall grunts out what sounds like it was meant to be a laugh, his head lolling backwards to rest on the back of the booth, and Harry wishes he weren’t so damn beautiful in the dim lighting of the pub, wishes that he didn’t have the immense urge to kiss Niall’s soft, peachy lips right then and there. He looks tired, but in the serene way, the comfortable and lovely and endearing way. “The nuances of love,” he says lowly, and Harry can hear from the grogginess his voice has let out that he probably wants to go to sleep.
Harry frowns at that. He doesn’t think love is a bad thing like Niall’s just put it out to be. Because the truth is, Harry is really in love with the idea of love. There’s something magical about the emotions that come with being in a relationships and the words two hearts seem to exchange with each other when the physical mouths aren’t moving. Something enchanting about feeling so strongly about someone else that you forget about yourself sometimes. He can’t imagine someone else not feeling the same way. “What’s love ever done to you?” Harry finds himself asking.
Niall blinks at him, his expression turning blank. “I just,” he sighs and tries to stall by taking a sip of his refilled drink. “I just don’t get it, y’know? Like. I just feel like the whole idea of love is so overhyped.”
Liam and Louis have fucked off to god knows where so Harry thinks it’s safe to scoot closer. “I think,” Harry gets out, voice low and almost sultry, “that you haven’t given love a chance yet.”
a story about Shakespearean plays, an unlikely pair of high school teachers, a fake date to a real wedding, and the magic of romance (for a hopeless romantic).
pairing: narry // word count: 14k
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