Pretty Venom |N.H|

11

Before we start this chapter I want to say there is a bit of a discussion about drug use. I want to get that out there beforehand in case that makes anyone uncomfortable!

If you aren't comfortable reading, just skip through that part.

Stay safe my friends.

Alright that's all thank you.

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I'm sat across from Niall in the lounge.

I certainly don't count on having any fun with him today.

I look at him, sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, a snapback sat backwards on his head, shirtless wearing just sweatpants.

I think he noticed my unintentional staring, the sound of him clearing his throat giving away that I had probably been looking for too long.

"Let me get a shirt on," he stands. "This isn't how I would have wanted you to see me shirtless."

And there's the first inappropriate comment of the many to come.

I was expecting worse.

"I saw you shirtless when you were screwing some random back in New York," I fire back.

I hear him laugh, and I can't help but laugh to myself at the sound of him.

"Doesn't count," he responds. "She was boring though. Super needy too, I mean, you heard her whining."

"I definitely thought you'd like that. The idea of girls at your feet," I say, thinking about the grin I saw on his face in Boston when he sang into a microphone covered in bras that were thrown to him.

He returns wearing a black sweatshirt like mine, his hat in his right hand as he runs his left through his hair before putting it back on.

"That's different," he points to me. "If I'm fucking someone, I like the idea of 'I tell you what to do and you listen'. I mean, only if they want to, I'm not going to force them or anything, that'd be really fucked up. But I don't like the whole 'Begging me to do literally anything to you' type thing. That girl in New York was that type. So annoying, I had to turn on music to try drowning out her voice," he rambled, and I think he forgot I wasn't one of his band mates and I was actually a fellow woman having to listen to him bash his hook-up's sex life.

"That was much more than I needed to know, and that whole statement makes you sound like a dick," I added. "There's bagels in the kitchen area by the way, if you want one. I wouldn't want you to eat though if you're so sick with food poisoning."

"Oh yeah, my stomach is like, jacked up," he fake groans and suddenly holds his stomach like he's in pain.

"I know what happened," I stated, and he lets go of his stomach and stops the god awful groaning sounds he was letting out.

"Who told you?"

"Liam, then Louis confirmed it," I respond, and he shakes his head.

"You can't tell. Christ that was pretty bad wasn't it?" he laughs to himself.

Are you fucking serious?

No part of this situation was ever funny.

I'm glad he's finding humor in the fact that everyone was worried about him.

"Was that story your idea?" I ask him, and he grins like it was a genius plan.

"Yeah," he smiles at the ceiling. "Even got Louis to say it was something that old lady in catering gave me. She's probably fired now."