craving - n.j.h

twenty eight

Next morning, I was sat on Niall's bed, alone, in his t-shirt, lighting a cigarette that i'd found in his nightstand. Last night was one hell of a night, i'd say, and I couldn't feel anything - exept the toxic smoke filling my lungs, slowly, but surely, killing me along with the unenduable sadness and pain.

I was empty, left behind with no emotions.

Have you ever hurt so bad, you kind of just get used to the constant pain? Yeah, that's what happened to me. I got used to it.

Inside, I was completely shattered, my common sense broken into small incoherent pieces. I felt disconnected, left behind and depressed. Yeah, depressed was the right word to describe it with. I was vulnerable, nothing keeping me from breaking down any second. But, I had yet to finish this cigarette before i'd allow myself to break down again, though.

There was a knock on the door, Niall's figure appearing whithin a second. He looked tired, rather drained, like he'd been up all night, which he obviously had, just like me.

His eyes focused on the intoxicating item between my fingers as he slowly made his was up to where I sat in the middle of his bed.

"You should not be smoking, Ella." He said, sounding somewhat concerned. "Where'd you find it?"

Niall climbed into bed and rested his back up against the pillows behind us, my head immediately leaning back to rest on his shoulder. I cocked my head towards the drawer to answer his question.

"I needed something to soothe it."

"Soothe what?"

"The pain." I breathed, putting the cigarette in between my teeth, letting my lips lightly support it and once again inhaling the toxic particles from it. I slowly puffed out a trail of smoke, watching the it disappear before my eyes, wishing, that just maybe, I could disappear, too.

Niall's POV.

Ella fell asleep again after smoking two more cigarettes; and after crying for a while aswell. I held her close and told her that everything was going to be fine, but I couldn't convince her. She tried to explain how everything replayed in her head, and how it was like he was touching her, but she just broke down in the middle of a sentence, unable to speak. It was too much for her. Eventually, she fell asleep because of how exhausted she was, and I was relieved to see that she finally got some rest.

I was in the livingroom, walking back and forth in frustration. If I was at home last night when Jason got here, none of this would've happened, and Ella would have been okay.

I was so angry at myself for going out to another fucking party while she was at home being used for Jason's pleasure; Being used like a little toy to Jason's advantage.

That's when Mike Fucking Superhero Clifford appeared in the hall, walking towards the sofa and plopping down on it. He leaned forward, resting his elbows to his knees, cupping his face in his hands, sighing rather loudly.

"How is she?" He asked, running his fingers into his dyed hair.

"That's none of your buissness." I snapped, giving him a glare.

"I saved her last night, Niall. It's definitely my buissness." And it was his buissness. Ella would've been in a worse state right now if it wasn't for Mike, and I should be thankful towards him for saving her, but I was still mad. I sighed, knowing how awfully right he was, even though I didn't want to admit it. He saved her, while I was out, and I should be thankful, whether I like it or not.