#narold

Nindsay- “Vibes don’t match up, Noah wouldn’t get much out of it (maybe he’s sexist??)”

Dunno- “Don’t like it, Duncan would just wanna kill Noah”

Nowen- “I feel like they’d have a fun time, they’re cute but also Noah would get tired of Owen’s shit”

Narold- “They’re just two bitches but in different ways; they could play video games together but that doesn’t mean they would get along”

AleNoah- “Hard not to have bias toward what my gf thinks (thanks babe you rock!); honestly I support it but idk if that’s just my gf talking (I am her puppet!); not really long-term but they would have their fun; Alejandro bosses Noah around, Noah makes snarky comments, it’s a fun dynamic”

Neoff- “No, same thing as Bridgette: a little too cool; Geoff is not too intrigued with Noah”

Neth- “Probably wouldn’t be great, there’s a fine line with Noah; not too talkative, smart enough, Beth is too quirky; wouldn’t go too far”

Nustin- “Can’t tell you too much about Justin, just picture him as a way less devious Alejandro”

Troah- “My instincts tell me I don’t like it, they’re just too different; Trent is a cool guitar man, Noah is a big brain c*nt”

HDKDBFNDND exactly !

full offense but 

shoulda been

“That’s starting to get annoying,” Niall muttered under his breath, closing the door to his dorm room maybe a bit too violently. OK, maybe he had banged them on on purpose, but he had the rights to be pissed off.

The noise he made echoed through the empty hall. It made the lad sitting nearby on the floor jump a bit. The blonde boy furrowed his brows, wondering why this guy was chilling in the middle of the hall, his back pressed against the wall and long legs stretched comfortably in front of him. Before Niall managed to think about any explanation, his thoughts were interrupted by a deep, slow voice.

“You seem angry. Is everything OK?”

The other boy was looking up at Niall with big, bright, green eyes. His head was cocked to the side, eyebrows raised in questioning gesture. The guy had long, brown hair, now pulled up into a messy bun. And, well, Niall had to admit he was gorgeous.

After staring for a bit too long, Niall realised that he should say something. He wasn’t impolite after all.

“Um, yeah. I was just kicked out of my room by my roommate,” Niall answered with a shrug.

“Oh, that’s very rude of your roommate. Why did they do that?” the other lad asked, sounding properly concerned.

For a second or two, Niall hesitated, before explaining slowly, “well, technically he didn’t actually kick me out. But his girlfriend is staying over and I needed to escape before I would witness something I don’t really want to.”

The long-haired boy nodded along to Niall’s words. “I know what you mean. My friend is canoodling with his boyfriend in our room right now,” he said. “I’m Harry, by the way.”

Swaying a bit in the process, Harry picked himself up and extended his arm towards Niall. The latter let his eyes slid all the way up his body, fixing his gaze on Harry’s smiling face.

“I’m Niall,” he managed eventually, clearing his throat and shook Harry’s hand. “So… You’re just chilling here?”

The only answer he got was another nod. Apparently, Harry hadn’t saw anything weird about that. After standing in, quite awkward - at least for Niall - silence for a couple more moments, Niall made up his mind.

“I planned on going for something to eat and maybe have a pint,” Niall said, smiling a bit sheepishly. “Fancy joining me?”

Harry glanced at Niall, then at his things scattered across the floor and then back at Niall.

“Sure, it would be nice, thanks for inviting me. Just let me gather those and we can go,” the curly-haired said, as he crouched to pick up his things.

With a jacket on and arms full of neatly piled books, Harry smiled to show he was ready to go. But after a second later, his smile dropped.

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t go. I’ve left my wallet in the room,” the tall lad explained sadly. “Technically, I can go and grab it but I’m not sure what will I find-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Niall said, surprising a bit even himself, “it’s on me.”

Sending Harry a grin, he started to slowly walk backwards, waiting for Harry to join him.

The long-haired boy smiled back a bit cocky and raised one eyebrow at Niall, before asking, “Do you want to woo me so you can take revenge on your flatmate?”

Niall tripped over his feet, but managed to gather himself together before he landed on the floor, butt first. He wasn’t expecting that, but couldn’t say he was disappointed.

“Well… That wasn’t my original intention, but since you put it like that…,” Niall waggled his eyebrows, despite the faint blush on his cheeks.

A laugh escaping Harry’s mouth was the only answer Niall got before the curly-haired boy followed him down the hall.

He could see the pale sunlight pricking at him through his eyelids, but his eyes remained closed. He wasn’t ready to leave his dream, even if his body was groaning from the pain of lying down on a thin mattress, urging him to wake, if only for relief.

‘I dreamt about you last night, last week, last year. Today, too,’ he said, breaking through the city noise below. ‘It’s always the same. We’re sitting in our dorm room at MIT. Arthur had just left for the night and it’s quiet. I can hear the hum of the fluorescent lighting overhead, too loud. You turn to me and ask a question: what do you think we’ll be like in thirty years time? I laugh and say old, and you laugh, too. You say you’ll be important, that you’ll have a wife and kids, settle down. I’ve never known you to settle, Nathan. You laugh again, say thirty more years of wild partying will be enough. You ask me again, be serious, Harry, and I pause. The me that is dreaming knows the answer is wrong, but the dream me is barely nineteen and still gets pimples. I say that in thirty years time, I will still be with you, by your side. You always smile at that.’

Through his eyelids, he can see a dark shape, though he pretends he doesn’t. It’s always the same: the shape glides from one side of the library to the other, always in the same pattern and pace. He waits for it to leave.

The dreams only happen on days when the shape appears. Though he had left spirituality buried with his last name, he believed anyway.