Faking

12

"W-What?" You know that feeling you get when you're worried about something, a pit in your stomach that feels like a billion kilo's, weighing you down until eventually your fears subside and you're just left with your sweat-covered body and a racing heartbeat. My whole world seemed to stop, the feeling taking over as I stared at Harry with a glare.

I moved away from him, shaking my head. The bad man was loose? "Baby, I'm sorry for not telling you but you had just gotten out of the hospital, and you were really stressed about Liam. I just didn't want to upset you further, you shouldn't be dealing with a lot of stress right now."

Logically, I knew he was right. It was sweet of him, but I still felt hurt. "Why h-haven't you caught him yet?" Curly seemed to relax slightly, pulling me back onto his lap with a reassuring smile on his face, his dimples showing clearly.

"Not enough evidence, Lou. He had escaped, someone had tipped him off probably and no one knows his name, or will give us any description of him."

My throat constricted, trying to get the lump down. I spoke with a soft voice as I recalled all the details I thought could help him. I didn't want the bad man to find us, I wanted him gone. "He was tall...taller than Papa, but only by a little. He had brown eyes, they were stone cold. Mean." I shivered as I recalled them, they were truly terrifying.

I continued, my head faced down to my fidgeting hands. "Lima's were much nicer, the same colour but...warmer, and sweeter. He was big, or maybe just big to me. His hair was brown, long, and shiny and he never smelled good. His clothes were usually squared." Dad gave me a confused look, but I didn't know how to explain it.

So I just ignored that. "His voice was deep, not as deep as yours but deep. And he had a scar, on his hand. It was long, and ran from his thumb to his pinky." I gazed back to Dad whose eyes were squinted as deep in thought.

"Did he ever say anything to you?" I nodded, starting to talk again when his eyes urged me too.

"He said a lot of mean things, called me bad names. Just, worthless, stupid, said I was always tight, but I'm not sure what that meant." The look in Dads eyes was sad, I guess he didn't like me being called stupid or something.

"But, he always told me that he was 'going to get the family back together.' I'm not really sure what he meant by it, but he usually didn't like when I asked questions. So, I just kept my mouth shut." Dads mouth was parted, for an unknown reason as his eyes drifted. He was deep in thought, but I was tired.

My head gently sat on his chest as my eyes fell shut and I was out like a light.

The next time I'd awaken would be for dinner. Dad changed me with no complaint from my groggy self, and once done he took me downstairs with a smile. We had made it out into the living space where Li was laying on the couch, Niall laying on him lazily. Papa was laying on the other end, Niall's feet in his lap as they watched a show.

Papa's head turned, catching eyes with me as he smiled brightly, removing Niall's feet and standing up. "Hi baby, how are you feeling?" My head felt significantly better, it still was clouded but only slightly and I wasn't as nauseous. I recited that and Papa smiled at me, running a hand down the side of my face.

It was sweet, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught the very slight, barely noticeable smile on Liam's face. "That is amazing baby, and guess what? I made dinner! It's pasta!" I smiled brightly, Dad had fed me that a couple of weeks back and it was amazing! I had told him that and he had blushed for some reason, thanking me.

"We should go get dinner, I'm sure you're starving hmm?" I nodded slightly, the pain in my head appearing for a moment before vanishing again.

Dad didn't waste time to carry me to the kitchen, setting me down in the chair next to his. Liam and Niall came in, Liam sitting next to me and Niall beside him, making Papa sit next to Dad and Niall. He put the pasta in the middle of the table, where plates had already been dealt out.