Taking Chances (Niall Horan Punk Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Nineteen: "Moving Out"

When I awoke and got ready for the day, I walked out to see the living room filled with the people I had trouble seeing at the moment.

Harry sat next to a quiet Claire, his worry lines obvious to anyone around. Claire seemed to be spiraling, and I knew it was my fault. I knew I was still angry, but I sure as hell didn't want to keep walking around with a best friend that I told myself I couldn't trust anymore. She looked as if she hadn't slept in days, and she wasn't wearing any makeup like a normal day. She looked worn out, and her eyes were dark. She'd been crying recently, and that made me even more angry at myself for letting her to get to this dark place.

Harry looked tired, as well, but not like Claire. His worries went toward his love, and anyone could tell by the many times he looked at her that he was more worried about her than anything. And in no way did I blame him.

Zayn looked normal, of course. He and I weren't close enough for him to worry, which had always made me wonder why he was even hanging around in this situation. It made me wonder why he was here immensely. He watched as Niall tried to explain something about him and his plans, which I intentionally blocked out. I didn't want to hear about the man who ruined my life and cursed the rest of my years with depression and angst. Of anger and sadness.

Then there was Niall, who reminded me over and over about his background. We hadn't talked about it for two days, mainly because he was never up for it. Even if I was as curious as before. But I didn't push, because had he not known of my past, I would be as hesitant and distant as him.

The sound of my footsteps lifted each head, which made me stop short for only a split second. Claire's eyes seemed to slowly get darker, and her frown grew deeper. Harry offered a very tiny smile, which I understood was because he knew I wasn't happy with him, and Zayn only looked at me.

Niall got up and gently laid his hand on my shoulder. Just two nights ago, I'd awoken with screams, and accused Niall of being an unreliable safe house provider. Of not being able to take care of me. I still didn't know what the hell I'd been thinking, actually.

"Hi," he mumbled, smiling gently. "I know you're still upset with them, but we needed to talk about... him."

I nodded slowly, and looked around the room only once. "Do I have to be included in it?"

He nodded only slowly, which I sighed to.

"Can I get some coffee first?" I asked softly, and he nodded quickly. Lately he's been more and more kind than I'd seen him before. It kind of made me miss his old-self, because something told me that's the self is fallen in love with most.

The moment he sat down, I glanced at Claire, who sank in the couch more. I hated seeing it, and I was ready to admit myself to Hell for my extremely horrid sin.

"Claire, can I talk to you for a moment?" I asked in a small voice.

She looked up, her once brightly lit eyes darker than ever before. It killed me that much more.

Slowly, she nodded her frail head and got up, reluctantly leaving Harry's most likely comforting arms.

I started making coffee, contemplating how I would I start my apology.

Then I turned and stared at her, watching as she avoided my gaze. I felt my heart shatter over and over again.

"How much sleep have you gotten?" I asked quietly, afraid my voice would crack.

She shrugged, not a word slipping from her mouth.

"Have you eaten?"

She shook her head, still not speaking. Her eyes hadn't met mine yet, either.