A Glass | Teen Ink

A Glass

December 15, 2011
By Mehnaz Ali Khan SILVER, Fulton, Maryland
Mehnaz Ali Khan SILVER, Fulton, Maryland
9 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Mehnaz A. Khan

I yawn, stretching my arms high over my head. Smacking my lips together as I sometimes do when I’m thirsty and half-awake, I carefully find my way down the staircase and into the kitchen. I pull a jug of water out of the fridge and pour myself a glass of water, my eyes glued shut and refusing to open from tiredness. I’ll just drink this and go right back on to bed. Then I’ll get up well and early tomorrow morning and study chemistry. That’s right, chemistry sounds good. Maybe I’ll throw in a bit of physics. Oh, I’m feeling adventurous, aren’t I?

I close the fridge, place the glass in the sink, and as I’m about to exit the kitchen I hear something. It’s faint, as if coming from a dream of mine. It sounds like… a television? Is someone watching TV? Impossible… I force my eyes open to examine the source of the sound, only to find a scene from perhaps one of my worst nightmares.

Harry is staring at me from behind the sofa in the living room. The television is playing before him, displaying clips from one of One Direction’s older concerts. He’s frowning hard, and I recognize it’s because he’s attempting to conceal his laughter. Not well, might I add.

“Hi.” I mumble.

“Hi,” He says back, with a smirk. “I’ve never seen anybody pour themselves a glass of water with their eyes closed.”

“It’s not something just anybody can do. That took months of training.” I mumble again, feeling my face flush. Just disappear, this is a dream. If I close my eyes and open them up again, Harry will be gone! Because this is a dream! Okay, logic intact! I squeeze my eyes and open them up, only to find him still staring at me, this time with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you just try to make me disappear?”

“Nope, how silly.” I rub the back of my neck. Well, this is awkward. Time to change the subject. “What are you doing?” I ask, referring to the concert DVD playing on the television.

“Oh,” He turns back to the screen. “I’m just studying.”

That makes me laugh. “This is not studying.”

He looks over at me sharply. “You study in your way and I study in mine. This is my job, remember?”

I nod, drawing in closer to observe what was on the screen of the plasma television.

“I sometimes watch some of the old concerts and study my voice and dance. I try to channel that.”

I nod again, eyes glued on the screen. I never actually saw any of One Direction’s concerts and it was somewhat amazing seeing all the boys in front of such a large audience. They were all smiling, looking like they felt on top of the world. They were glowing.

“You’re glowing.”

“What?” He turns to me, with that eyebrow raised once more.

My face grows hot again. I really have to filter my thoughts a bit better before they reach my vocal cords. “I mean… You guys look happy. Genuinely happy.”

He watches me for a moment or two and then looks back of the television.

I watch him now. His eyes are narrow in concentration as he absorbs in all he can from his past performances. He rests his chin on his fist and I can see the veins in his hands bulging from beneath his skin. He has such manly hands, despite such a pretty face. I feel my eyes falling back onto his sea foam green eyes. For a moment, I lose myself in them.

“Shouldn’t you go back to bed?” He suddenly says.

I nearly jump in surprise. Hopefully he didn’t catch me staring at him. “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan.” I rise to my feet and awkwardly shift my weight between legs, uncertain how to say goodnight to him.

He pauses the DVD at that moment and gets off the couch. He comes towards me, and my pulse picks up dramatically, pounding against the surface of my chest. I hold my breath as he gets within an inch of my face-

-and then he walks past me, towards the kitchen to calmly pour himself a glass of water.

I let out the breath I had been holding all that while and chuckle to myself. What was I expecting, a goodnight kiss? Only in my dreams. I smile to myself as I start back to the staircase.


I look over my shoulder to find Harry looking at me from the kitchen.

He grins boyishly as he whispers, “Goodnight.”

The author's comments:
just something about harry styles from one direction and an anonymous narrator (that can be you, if you want!)

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