If You See This Boy

Hold Dear, My Confines of Fear

With trembling hands, I grabbed Lou's pillow from the bed and made my way carefully back down the steps to the couch. I searched desperately for my cell phone before pulling it from where it was wedged between the cushions. It took me a small moment to dial Niall's phone number.

Ring...

I glanced nervously about the room, desperately hoping that I wouldn't hear his ringtone.

Ring...

"We're sorry the number you have attempted to contact is no longer in service. Check the number and dial again. Goodbye," an automated voice answered just before the line clicked off and the sharp dial tone filled my ears.

I tried the number again, fingers shaking and breaths coming out short.

The same message played over again.

After a moment, I let the phone fall from my fingers. "Oliver!" I shouted. "Oliver, what have you done to Niall!"

"Niall? Who's Niall?" his small voice giggled.

I spun around desperately searching for any sign of his presence. "Oliver, give him back to me," I shouted in every direction. My hands trembled frantically at my sides.

A soft and broken giggle echoed through the house, "You know what's funny Harry?"

The television switched off and the small rug in front of it bunched up around the edges. "Oliver, nothing is funny! Give him back please..." I begged softly. 

"But, something is funny Harry..." he replied. "I haven't taken anything from you Harry..."

My fingers tangled in my curls, tugging in desperate terror, "But you have... You have..." 

Oliver's soft giggles mocked my every breath. "How could I?" 

I sunk to the floor, just wanting to regain a small dose of my sanity. Maybe Niall hadn't come over. Maybe I was just a bit lonely. But, I had heard him talk. He had spoken to me, laughed at me even. He had been here.

My eyes squeezed shut tightly as I inhaled a shaky breath. I just needed to calm down, ignore the childish laugh that filled my ears and threatened to drown my well being. 

"Harry?"

I froze, my breath hitching in my throat. 

"Harry? What are you doing on the floor?" Niall laughed from the bottom of the staircase. 

I turned hesitantly, letting my eyes open and focus on the lad. My fingers slipped from my curls and dropped to my lap as I stared at him. "You're here..." the words left my mouth in almost whispers, disbelieving and tentative.

"Course. Went to borrow a pair of you joggers. Are you alright?" he asked as he held out a hand to me. His blonde tufts of hair fell over his forehead as he grinned.

With a furious nod of my head, I grabbed his hand and let him pull me up. "Yeah... I thought you... Left," I laughed weakly. "Your pizza is heated up now..."

His hand slipped away as he darted into the kitchen, leaving me baffled.

The giggles had stopped and the carpet was no longer bunched with the hint of the lost boy's small presence. 

I tugged at my hair before curling onto the couch. I wanted Lou to come home. He kept me sane.

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Niall mindlessly chatted for the next few hours before leaving with a hug and a barely heard thank you for feeding him. So, in the new fallen dark of night, I merely stayed in the same position. My knees were curled tightly to my chest as the television created background noise for my impending insanity.