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It's a little chilly in the low winter sun that peaks out between two cotton wool clouds and Harry tightens his coat around him, yanks his hat further down over his curls and repositions himself on the wooden park bench he's found.
It's February and it's definitely too cold to be outside but Harry doesn't mind, in fact he rather likes it. Reminds him of some things he'd rather forget but forces himself to remember anyway.
The park is quiet, almost silent, but Harry can hear some ducks quacking about in the distance and some sparrows chirping beside him and it's nice.
Harry looks slowly from his left to his right, taking his surroundings in before he reached into his battered off-brown satchel and pulled out a book. This book was not an ordinary book, no, it was Harry's life on paper. Not his literal life, but something much more wonderful and colourful and brilliant.
He smoothed his hand over the red hardback cover and smiled to himself, anticipating what was on the inside. He'd thumbed the pages a thousand times but he never got rid of the bubbling happiness that arose within him every time he went to look through the book.
Harry took the cover in his left hand and slowly opened the book. Another small smile spread over his lips. The first page was his favourite.
There was a photograph taped in the centre of the page, two teenage boys standing an awkward width apart, smiling warily at the camera. Harry was small and chubby, curls clipped short with his ears poking out either side. Only God knows what on earth the boy was wearing and why, and Harry still snorts as he can remember thinking that he looked good. Niall was short too, even shorter than Harry. His hair was a dark brown, long enough to just flick into his eyes but not long enough to look anything close to good. He offered a thumbs up and a crooked grin and Harry smiled down at the frozen image, stroking his finger over Niall's face.
The rest of the yellowing page was decorated with small doodles either Harry or Niall had contributed, along with a beer bottle cap that had been taped down. In the lower right-hand corner there was a familiar scrawl reading "when Hazza met Nialler" that still made Harry laugh at just how naff Niall's nicknames could be.
Harry remembered that night and that photo and that bottle cap as that was the night his life got flipped right around. Before that night Harry was a typical sixteen year old English boy. He was studying for his GCSE exams and looking at possible colleges that would accept him and his could-be-better grades. He worked in a bakery and although his life was easy he was determined to flip it on his head. He wanted to be reckless and brave and fuck shit up so when little Irish Nialler moved to Holmes Chapel he instantly befriended him.
Niall invited Harry to his first ever house party and as soon as he was through the door Niall greeted him with a Hazza ("as it will be forever more"), clapped him on the back and thrust a beer into his hand. Harry slipped the cap into his back pocket through the laziness of walking to the bin and grinned cheesily at the disposable camera that was centimetres from his and Niall's noses.
Harry couldn't remember how the photo came into his possession, but oh well. Flipping the page he came to double-page spread of the first summer he and Niall spent together. They'd finished their exams and wanted to party hard and from Harry's recollection and the series of out of focus photographs he knows they did just that.
There's party pictures and gig pictures and festival pictures but Harry's favourite is the one of him and Niall laying under a tree in the local park. Harry decided that day was the hottest day in living memory so the boys had to shed their shirts and find some shade, just sit there until they'd recovered. Niall blamed the Irish in him for his pasty skin and the ability to turn from milk bottle to boiled lobster in a matter of minutes and apologised many times before he finally fell asleep with his head in Harry's lap.
Harry carded his fingers through Niall's hair and patted the sunburn on his shoulders hoping to soothe the pain. When he heard a gentle snore Harry stopped playing with Niall's hair and picked at the daisies beside him before plucking them from the grass and threading them together to wake a chain. When Niall woke up Harry placed the chain at the front of his hair and kissed the tip of his nose. Niall shoved him off but Harry only laughed, completely unaware that he was falling in love with the older boy.
Taped to the page was the chain Harry made for Niall, and of course the daisies were dead and the stems were brown but it was still beautiful.
The next page made Harry's heart beat erratically because he knew exactly what memory was coming next.
After finally realising Harry loved Niall and convincing himself Niall might feel the same way judging by the countless nights they spent together and the pecks on the lips they waved of as just being 'friendly'.
Harry had it planned, he knew how he'd ask Niall and he knew Niall would say yes. (Well, hoped.) So at college on Friday Harry asked Niall if he wanted to get pizza and Niall agreed and he may not have known it was a date but Harry didn't care because that made it a little easier for him.
Of course Harry took his camera and he took pictures of anything and everything that night, including the wonderful Luigi who makes one hell of a pizza and who was willing to pose with Niall just for the craic. (Harry didn't know what that meant but he didn't like to ask.) Towards the end of the night Niall stole Harry's polaroid camera from his hands and turned it to face themselves. He wrapped a tight arm around Harry's neck to pull him closer and smacked an exaggerated kiss to his cheek and as Harry scrunched his face up in distaste Niall pressed the shutter.
It's safe to say that photograph was Harry's favourite from that night. But he definitely enjoyed the confirmation that the pair were now boyfriends as Harry kissed Niall on his doorstep much more.
Harry flipped through some more pages, catching quick memories as he glanced at different pictures on different pages, including when Niall first bleached his hair and the first ever picture of Niall bearing braces. There's hugging pictures and kissing pictures and beach pictures and park pictures and any other kind of picture you could dream of.
Harry comes across the picture of when he got his first car, a pale blue cadillac, and smiles as he remembers Niall's look of distaste because "you should've got mint green" but Harry slapped his bum and kissed his cheek and everything was okay again. They were practically in love that car, and Harry only got a little bit annoyed when Niall painted a big yellow sunflower on the side.
He skimmed over the pages where Niall and Harry got matching tattoos because the small simple infinity symbol that was inked to the back of their necks made Harry slightly teary when he knew what happened later on.
There was a period in Harry's life where he stopped taking pictures. And when he stopped taking pictures it was like his life stopped too.
Niall got ill, really ill. The doctors gave him weeks and sure enough the day soon came where Harry knew he'd never see the blue of Niall's eyes again.
Harry only took one more photograph after that, and it's pasted to the very back page of the book. In the centre is a picture of a tombstone, the words "lost but never forgotten" curving around the outside of it. "Niall James Horan 1993 - 2013".
The picture makes Harry sad and he doesn't like to look at if for long and when he traces the symbol on the back of his neck he cracks in betrayal because it was supposed to last forever but it didn't and there's nothing he can do about it. He gently fingers the flower from the funeral and Harry cries because it's dead, just like Niall and just like his life.