Stand By Me

Chapter Two

Niall has always loved going to Harry's house. For about as long as he can remember, stepping foot into the Tomlinson-Malik household has felt like a respite, like walking into a movie or a scene from a book where everything is just right.

Zayn and Louis bring him into conversations and talk to him like he's one of their own, they make sure he's okay, they ask about his day at school, they make sure he eats enough. Liam winds him up the same way he does to Harry, though he isn't always as harsh which Niall appreciates. And Harry's like a brother to him anyway, he's the closest thing he has to one. His family is the closest thing Niall has to one.

He never admits it out loud though. He feels guilty for even thinking it — he has a family, he has his mother and he has Paul, though he'll never think of that man as a real father, his Mum isn't bad to him, not really. He knows he should be more grateful to her, and that she would probably hate him if she knew how much he idolised Harry's family.

Harry's family. Not his. Sometimes he has to remind himself of that; and sometimes, his mind gets all dark and angry because it just doesn't seem fair that other people live like this every day whilst there are people like him who are scared to even breathe wrong in their own home. Then he thinks that it isn't unfair, because somewhere along the line, he must have done something to deserve all the beatings and cruel words from Paul. After all, if he didn't deserve it then his mother would stop it from happening, she would never have married that man in the first place.

"You sure you're feeling all better, Ni?" Louis asks, breaking into the spiralling thought cycle so that he flinched slightly, looking up to see all eyes on him around the dinner table in a way that is far too reminiscent of the situation in their physics class earlier on in the day.

He forces a smile and nods, cheeks warming up under the concern in the man's eyes, glancing away. "Yeah, I'm good," he says softly, shoulders hunching up a little.

"You've barely eaten, that's all," Harry's Dad comments, and Niall looks down at the half-eaten plate of food in front of him and feels his heart skip a little as Paul's voice booms inside of his skull 'ungrateful little brat'.

He swallows and looks up, chest tight. "Oh, it's really good. Sorry, I didn't mean —"

Louis interrupts with a small smile, shaking his head. "It's okay, kiddo. I'm not — I just mean, if you're not feeling great then I can heat you up some soup or something else instead, that might be a little easier on your stomach," he explains, and Niall feels his cheeks heat up a little with all the care being directed towards him.

Zayn and Louis are always good to him of course, they always have been, but it's only really been since Paul moved in that he's really taken the time to appreciate it, and on the particularly bad days like today, it overwhelms him.

He shakes his head quickly, gaze descending down to his plate again. "This is fine. I mean, it's nice. Thank you," he stammers, glancing up to see Louis' brows tugged together for a moment as he watches him before the man just smiles and gives a short nod.

"Well you know you can always just say if you ever want anything else. God knows Harry and Liam do," he adds with a smile, turning to give Liam a cautionary frown when the boy looks ready to flick a pea at his father.

The man clearly doesn't think much of the words, but they make Niall's chest feels all tight and hot because the way Louis speaks is like putting him on par with his own sons, and he wishes that he could be one of them more than anything.

Stop it, he warns himself. It isn't worth the hurt that it'll bring.

He smiles instead, the action tight and uncomfortable on his face, eyes still burning with unshed tears. When a couple of deep breaths don't make them go away, he excuses himself to the bathroom, locking the door quietly behind him and turning on the taps to block out any noise he might make.