Green is the colour of ambition
Of the never satisfied earth
Silver is the colour of loyalty
Of the growing earth rising
Green is the colour of self-preservation
Of the ever moving sea
Silver is the colour of cunning
Of the raging sea seemingly settling
“You don’t get it, do you?” He sighed, sitting back down on the bed. You watched as he laid back against the bed. She sucked. You hated her more than anything. Harry and his girlfriend were terrible for each other. You tried playing the best friend but being supportive was hard when she was actively trying to make him miserable. She demanded his time and got mad when he wasn’t able to give her every waking second. Harry was running himself ragged trying to make her happy. Harry never said no. She demanded, he did, he wore the exhaustion on his face. He hated disappointing people and for some reason, he still loved her.
You turned your attention back to the magazine you were flicking through. Your interest was still trained on his exhausted tone and pleading, but if he looked your way, it would at least look like you were focused on the pages in front of you. Pretending to read an article on reduces the appearance of eye bags after a night out, you focused on your peripherals on the way he was gripping his hair like if he ripped it all out, things might get better. Leave your hair alone, Styles, you thought, fearing the idea of him losing his stupid long hair. You remembered when he started to grow it out. You were worried he would look stupid with it. He looked so beautiful with his short curls hitting the back of his neck. You’d almost been excited for him to look terrible, maybe this crush of yours would go away if you could just see him not looking like a freaking god. Of course he looked perfect though.
“You know I can’t!” He practically shouted. This caused you to look up. He never raised his voice. The only time you could remember was month ago when during an argument the two of you had about why he was bending over backwards to make this girl happy when she did nothing to make him happy. You pressed and pressed about how toxic she was to him and you must have hit a nerve because he shouted, “Just stay out of it!” He apologized profusely, looking scared at himself, but the memory of Harry snapping had been enough for you to just pretend she didn’t exist. You didn’t go to parties she was at and if she showed up at Harry’s house while you were there, you left. You made it seems as natural as possible, but you were sure he knew the stress his relationship was putting on your friendship. He sat up and hunched forward. “That’s not fair,” his tone now barely louder than a whisper. “No.”
He stood up then and walked towards the bathroom. You could hear mumurs of him talking through the door, but the door blocked any real words getting through. Hearing the door open, you glanced back down at the magazine quickly. He walked towards you and you looked up. His eyes were blood shot and he looked exhausted. He looked down at his sock and sniffed. That’s all it took for you to be up and on your feet. You wrapped your arms around his waist and held tightly. After a second, his arms locked around your shoulders and he was crying. “She said I couldn’t be friends with you if I wanted to stay with her…” He choked out. You squeezed tighter. “Who says that?”