skittles | ziall boyxboy

21. Therapy

Niall's pov

My hands shook slightly, my heart feeling heavy in my chest as I stared at the small building in front of me. The clinic was tiny, and secluded behind a thick row of foliage. I'm gad the trees are there, the town isn't huge and people could live right across from the therapy centre, I don't need rumours about me being some sort of psychopath going around school. It almost felt expected, my mother was struggling, I knew that from the start. The pain in her voice and the grimace on her face whenever she saw me was enough to know she was going to seek professional help if there was no avail soon.

"Come on, Niall," Zayn murmured, resting one of his large palms on the small of my back and guiding me towards the front doors. I squirmed in his hold, trying to get away from the doors, going inside meant I was agreeing with my family about myself being insane, this is the therapy ward. I don't need therapy, I'm absolutely fine when I have Zayn with me. "It's for your own good," He soothed me, stroking my back now and pulling open the pristine white doors with one hand, slightly pushing me through when I tried to stand my ground. "Hi, I'm here with my friend Niall Horan, he has an appointment," Zayn spoke to the lady at the reception, his hand firmly holding the small of my back in an effort to stop me from running back out the doors. "Let's go sit down," Zayn said to me, having spoken to the lady at the desk for at least five long minutes, a small smile on his lips as we sat on one of the grossly coloured murky blue chairs with unevenly put on wooden arm rests,

"You know I'm not mental," I said, "I don't need to be here, if anything it's you that needs to be here, Zayn," I reasoned, seeing his lip twitch slightly as he turned to face me, a small smirk slipping onto his face as I continued, "You're the insane one if you can't see that I'm perfectly fine if nobody makes any physical contact, or eye contact, that's a no-go,"

"So, if I sent you to school right now and I didn't go with you, you would be fine?" He asked, eyebrows raised, a cheeky glint in his amber eyes as I studied him slowly. My face remained black as I watched his smirk slowly dissipate, the overly attractive face he had pulled moving back to his usual model like smoulder.

"It depends," I hummed out,

"On what?" He muttered, looking down as his hands that were linked together on his lap, frowning slightly,

"On whether or not I have a male teacher, it's kind of daunting knowing he was so powerful against me and the idea that any teacher could do that is scary, Michael isn't always going to be there to save me," I get out, awkwardly taking one of Zayn's hands in my own with a shy smile.

"I understand," He mumbled, staring at our snugly fitted hands with an expression I couldn't quite decipher. Zayn was mysterious to say the least, his tattoos and leather jackets tricking you into thinking he's some sort of rebellious bad boy, when in reality he wears his heart on his sleeve. He gets misjudged by so many, and talked about like a piece of rubbish multiple times a day by arrogant adults who take one look at his tattoos and immediately think he's messed up his entire life and is hooked on drugs and swears like a sailor. He also gets stared at by nosy kids at school and a fair few girls what want a piece of his luscious body for themselves. All the people who saw him for what he wore or how he looked had no idea about his sweet, caring side that nurtured me through my episodes and nightmares every day.

"Niall Horan?" A feminine voice sounded, breaking me from my thoughts and causing me to snap my head up in that direction, seeing an elegant looking lady with her blonde hair tied into a tight bun at the back of her head and the navy blue clipboard in her hand. Zayn stood up, tugging on my hand lightly and coaxing m to stand with him, I whined a little, sounding like a distressed puppy but stood anyway. "Come on in," She smiled, Zayn leading the way as I stumbled reluctantly behind him. We entered a room a similar size to the living room back at Zayn's dorm, a dark brown leather couch situated in the centre with an ugly green coffee table in front of it and a messy stack of magazines underneath it beside a small bin. An armchair was placed a meter or so to the other side of the table, where the lady would sit, I assume. "I'm Femi, It's lovely to meet you both," she smiled in the same way all doctors do, and I hated her already.

"I'm Zayn and this is Niall," Zayn mentioned, my grip on his hand tightening in the unfamiliar room, "We'll sit here, if that's okay?" He mumbled, pulling me down onto the sofa next to him, where I shuffled noticeably closer to him and stared at the slightly chipped corner of the horrendous coffee table.

"Lovely, are you two, you know, together?" She asked, smiling politely when I raised my head with a frown,

"No," I grunted, rolling my eyes at her. Zayn stroking the back of my hand with his thumb.

"Oh, alright, sorry I asked that." She stuttered out, clicking her pen down on the clipboard and jotting down a few notes on her file for Niall. "So, Maura said you were sexually assaulted by a teacher at school?" She pulls some glasses from round her neck and placed them on the edge of her nose, Zayn nodded solemnly, "And you're experiencing nightmares, panic attacks, and anxiety?" Once again Zayn nodded, "okay," She hummed jotting down a few more things before crossing her legs over and looking up at us intently.

"Make her stop," I whisper, my words coming out as a slight whine, my voice cracking part way through. The intense way her thorough green eyes were staring right at me, and Zayn, was unnerving. Why should she know about my life, It's mine, not hers, private stuff.

"Uh, could you not look at him like that," Zayn huffs, using his free hand to caress my cheek and turn my face into his shoulder, "He doesn't like it," I rest my forehead against the soft cotton of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body radiate to my head in a relaxing way. I hear her sigh and the sound of her ballpoint pen scratching against paper once again, I breathed out a long, soft breath, feeling Zayn's hand running through my freshly washed hair. "You alright?" he mumbled under his breath, pressing a small kiss to the side on my head, I nodded slightly and mumbled out something that isn't an actual word.

"Okay then boys," Femi started again, and I wanted to punch her. Therapy is a load of bollocks. "Let's have Zayn over there, and Niall you stay right where you are," She gestured towards a wooden chair in the far corner of the room, for observers I assume. Zayn nodded firmly and stood, wriggling his hand out of my strong hold as I stared at him helplessly. He gave me a reassuring smile and walked away.

I felt so exposed, he was the only piece of strength I had left. I felt like a child under Femi's stern gaze.

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An: So here is the second update. Do I get extra author points for a double update after not writing for like 20 days lol. remember to comment your thoughts, inline comments are also very much appreciated.

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