When 2 become 1 (sequel to When 2 bands collide)

F is for fighting, forget-me-not, and forgiveness

Kaylee's POV

"So how are the three little cutie pies?" Corbyn cooed over the phone. I giggled and looked up the stairs at the door of the little triplets. I sighed and swallowed my rib.

"They're fine. But it's a bit hard with Niall out getting drunk every night." I sighed, setting the bone down on the plate with a small clatter. Corbyn sighed on the other end.

"Kaylee, it'll be fine. It's just Niall. He gets drunk. It's his thing." She said. I looked down and back up at the doorway.

"I know, I know, it's just..." I sighed, not knowing where I was going. "Never mind." I heard faint talking in the background before crackling, signaling somebody had returned to the phone.

"Hey, Kaylee. I gotta go. Bye!" She said before I heard the call end.

4 months. 4 month old babies. 4 month old memories. The babies were coming healthy. They were on the verge of crawling, rolling around. A few months away from talking. Me and Niall were having a competition on what one the first words would be. Niall was consistent on it being Nandos or something food related, so he said it a whole bunch around the babies. I was content on it being a simple name, like Mum, Dad, things like that.

1:35 AM

Where was the little bugger?

1:50 AM

I'm just giving up. I'll get mad at him tomorrow. I was surprised I hadn't passed out yet. I am always tired. I got up, tip-toeing past the babies' room as the front door opened and slammed shut. I winced, expecting to hear cries of the babies that took me forever to put down. But no noise came. I let out a relieved sigh and walked back into the living room, where a drunk Niall stood.

"Princess!" He slurred, eyes lighting up at the sight of me. He made his way over and wrapped his arms around me, alcohol reaching out at me from everywhere, his clothes, his hair, his breath. He started kissing my neck and I heavily sighed, turning around and catching his drunk self off guard.

"Niall. Stop." I said, pushing him off of me, still in an arms length away.

"Why?" He whined, pulling me to him once again, tightly so I couldn't escape. "I want you." He whispered.

"Niall. You're drunk." I said, just managing to wiggle out of his grasp, getting a safe distance away.

"So?" He slurred, taking a step towards me as I took one back.

"Ni, this is your third time this week. And you've done this weeks before." I say, crossing my arms and glancing nervously at the bedroom only meters away.

"You can't tell me what to do. Stop acting like my mother." He slurred. Even if he was drunk...

Ouch.

"Ni. You should get to b-"

"No. Stop telling me what to do mrs bossy. I need a break from all the crying and baby stuff. Just let me be." He drunkenly interrupted. I rolled my eyes, even more mad.

We ended up yelling.

I was way over the edge about him being drunk all the time, being late for rehearsals, missing sound checks, interviews, recordings, and not really helping.

He was still drunk, telling me to stop being overprotective, and bossy, and to let him be a little loose. He had crossed the loose line long ago.

We both ignored the babies cries, even though I wanted to run and scoop them up in my arms and sooth them back to sleep with their little baby smiles. With the crying and Niall, I couldn't take it anymore.

"I hate you! Get out!"

I looked up at Niall who was suddenly sober, I looked at his depressed face. He looked on the verge of tears but I knew I was right. And I needed to get to the babies soon, I wasn't going to lose.

"Kaylee, I know you didn't mean that." He whispered.

"Get out." I said, still angry, itching to get to the wailing babies that I loved.

"Okay." He squeaked, walking out the door. "I love you." He mumbled, looking at me with tear streaked cheeks, red eyed from crying.

I couldn't believe what just happened.

I ran into the babies room, looking from crib to crib to crib. I quickly got all of my little angels to sleep. Braelyn in her little nightgown, McKinley in her silk pajama pants and mini t-shirt, and Liam in one of Niall's tees that he got lost in.

I wanted to run out, find Niall, tell him I'm sorry, I over-reacted, and get the feeling of being back in his arms once again. Find out where he was, just go back to the normal feeling that gave me sparks and butterflies when we touched.

But I couldn't do it.

It was done with.

I had won.

But it didn't feel good.