Trouble. (niall horan au)

chapter 19 - trauma blanket

"They've handcuffed me to a chair." Niall commented idly, examining his single wrist that was bound by metal to an arm rest. He gave it a slight tug.

I lifted the thick blanket that lay draped over my shoulders. "They've given me a trauma blanket."

"Are you traumatized?"

I thought about this for a moment. "Yes."

Niall and I sat alone on a row of plastic chairs inside the police station. We had been brought here by squad car, the only difference being that Niall sat in the back while I sat in the front. He was convict at the moment, I the suppossed victim. And technically I wasn't suppossed to be sitting by him. In minutes they would notice and send me back, but for the moment we were leaning on each others shoulders.

"You've been crying." he observed, curling a lock of my hair around his pointer and angling my face towards him. His thumb rubbed absently against my reddened cheeks to wipe away any remainder. "I hope it wasn't over me, I'm such a stupid thing to cry over."

"I know right, how unlike me." I huffed, "When my boyfriend gets taken away in handcuffs, I usually get down on the floor and do the worm."

Niall laughed, instinctly moving to drap an arm around my waist but being cut short by the cuffs. That seemed to really bother him. "I can't hug you." he said quietly, making the chain rattle. "They're making it so I can't hug you." He stared in dismay at his wrist for a moment, as though that would make it unlock, before anger seeped into his features.

"Fuck." he grumbled, and gave the cuffs a sharp tug. "Motherfucking buggering assholes, they can't do that. I can hug you."

"Niall, calm down." I exclaimed, grabbing a handful of his shirt and forcing him to sit. The trauma blanket slid to the floor as I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed tight. His breathing was rapid, and it dawned on me that Niall Horan could have panic attacks. "Look- damn I'm a good hugger. Everything's gonna be fine."

"Lie to me," he demanded, "Again."

"Everything's gonna be fine."

He rolled his head back and stared at the harsh florescent lighting overhead, releasing a drawn out sigh. Niall looked exhausted. Face ashen, eyes tired, and even his usual lilac hair seemed to be lacking color as he visibly drooped. I knew now wasn't the time to question him. But I wanted to know if we were ever going to address that big question hanging over our heads, the what now. What now that my mom would find out I was with Niall, if he would be arrested, what would happen to us. What about the huge, fat truth that everyone was working so hard to split us apart, while we fought for the exact opposite.

A man was led over and handcuffed to another chair three away from mine. He was old and graying, with a bristling mustache and large beer gut that was spilling out of his ripped tshirt. I returned his harsh stare with a kind smile.

"Hello," I called over, dodging Niall's hand as he attempted to clamp it over my mouth and shut me up. "What're you here for."

The man cast a dark look to his right, before straining against his cuffs to lean towards me. "Well, it was an accident you see- they're accusing my of stabbing my neighbor in the stomach. Knife slipped though, right out of my fingers. Real shame."

Niall made me move and sit on the other side of him.

He still had that troubled look on. This is when I made the lamest attempt ever to distract him. Niall gave me an odd look as I brashly thrust my hand into his pants pocket. "You know my dicks in the front right." he said, "Because this would be a weird handjob." I blushed, ignoring his comment and extracting a coin amidst the lint.