Lights (Niall Horan)

forty-nine

Louis Tomlinson

One.

Two.

Three.

I'm going in.

I don't care what they're doing.

I don't care what they're saying.

All I care about is fucking revenge.

But I just need to figure out the target.

Anna Holden

"Shhh. It's alright, it's all okay."

Harry wipes a small tear from my face, giving me a somewhat desperate glance. He sits at the end of his own hotel bed, handing me tissue after tissue.

"What did I do?" I ask, voice nearly above a whisper.

"You didn't do anything, love. We're teenage boys. We're not going to get along all the time."

His voice is gentle.

Too gentle.

What did I ever do to deserve his kindness?

"Yeah, but-"

"We always make up, in the end." He continues, getting his shirt off quickly and reaching for a clean one.

"You're divided up into sides. One side is going to lose."

"But one will also win." Harry mutters, glancing into the bedroom mirror briefly.

"Harry, how many sides are there?" I groan, leaning back onto his pillows.

The pillows catch my tears, as I don't dare to meet Harry's eyes.

They are the perfect green color, as always, but they have some sort of depth to them. Something like pity, sorrow, and desperation reads beneath them.

Harry pauses, running a comb through his hair before answering.

"What if we have a good reason for fighting?"

"Nothing is worth fighting for." I argue.

"You are."

His sudden, fast-paced response catches me completely off-guard.

I blink the tears out of my eyes to make out the sight of Harry, laid down on the bed next to me, head turned in my direction with an expression I can't comprehend.

"I'll prove it to you, too." He whispers, leaning in to brush the hair off my shoulder.

I don't try to push him away--his touch is just too warm. Too comforting.

Maybe I shouldn't let him near me like this.

But I don't know what to think otherwise.

I'm at a point where I need him most, post-breakup.

My feelings for Niall are slowly fading away, but I won't forget about him.

But at the same time, Harry seems to be the only shoulder I can dare to cry on, the only one who fully understands.

"I don't belong in your world, Harry."

My breath catches as I slowly turn my head towards him.

Silence.

"You will, as long as you're with me."

His tone has become raspier, along with his stance.

My body tenses, becoming rigid and numb at the thought.

Harry Styles, wanting me in his world.

Harry Styles, willing to fight for me.

Harry Styles, wishing I was all his.

It doesn't add up at all, no matter how hard he is trying.

But as I lay next to his tall body, I realize he didn't do anything at all.

All he did was manipulate weakness.

Niall's weakness.

My weakness.

He played with it to make everything go in his favor, from the day he arrived twenty-two hours earlier than he was supposed to.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

I'm not sure how to respond to that.

But I fell into his trap.

Naturally.

I have no idea what his true intentions are, but the bombs he planted all over are blowing up, as planned.

And I'm one of them.

This might be all in my head, some evil plot gone wrong.

But all I know is the only person I could truly love hates me.

I have loved him from day one.

From the day I first saw a One Direction poster on my Spanish teachers' classroom wall, 8th grade.

Niall immediately caught my attention.

I don't know why.

Eventually, I did memorize the others' names, and as a high school student I met Sarah, who told me more than enough about Liam than I wanted to at the time.

The Internet told me to love Louis and his quirky ways, from video diaries to present interviews.

Zayn was known as the quiet one, much like myself. I instantly took a liking to him, too, and loved him just as much as the others.

But no one ever told me how to feel about Harry or Niall.

Those I had to find out on my own.

I squeeze my eyes shut. "I just--"

And he takes me off-guard again and presses his lips to mine, some unknown determination clouding his eyes.