My Babysitters Are Idiots // One Direction [Book 1: Idiot Series]

Chapter Fourteen - Losing Trust

Mica.

It's been nearly a month since Harry's been out of hospital. I haven't heard from Jacob, who's been in France for a while. The heat was starting to get to me, it became so hot that I couldn't even leave the house.

The boys had started to walk around shirtless, except for Harry and Niall, who would have constant sweat stains on their backs and underarms.

It was early but still extremely hot. I was sat on my couch in a crop top and denim shorts. My hair was up in a bun and sweat was pouring from every part of my body.

Zayn and Liam walked in, shirtless. I didn't look at them, just stared at the ceiling as I sprawled out on the couch, trying to find some way to get comfortable in the heat.

I took a glance at Zayn, admiring his tattoo's. I'd like a tattoo. Maybe a henna, so it wasn't permanent and my dad didn't kill me.

"G'morning," Liam chimed. I glanced at him quickly and flashed him a weak smile, groaning in response. The heat was too much and the air conditioning was broken.

"You seem happy," Zayn chuckled and I groaned again, but this time louder.

Niall walked next in wearing a tank top. He and Harry were the only one's out of the boys that actually still wore their shirts. He said it was because his body isn't as nice as the other boys--his words, not mine--and he doesn't like taking his shirt off.

Niall didn't have a six-pack like the rest of the boys, but I wouldn't say he had a bad body, not even close. He was thin, and his frame suited him perfectly, along with his pale, Irish skin.

Niall's face was red and he looked like we was boiling up. He plopped down next to me, breathing a little heavier than usual.

"You okay?" I asked him.

"Y-yeah, just a little hot," he huffed.

"Just take your shirt off, mate," Zayn said, as if he had said it a hundred times. 

"No, I'm f-fine," he sighed. Niall was really insecure about how he looked, that was obvious. I made him talk to me about it weeks back.

"Like, during the Up All Night tour, fans would call me ugly and fat and say I didn't deserve to be in the band. I'd be fine if it wasn't for that," Niall told me, his voice slow, as if trying to keep it steady.

"They're not really fans then, are they?" I asked and Niall shook his head. "Niall, you look fine. It's only us you're around anyway."

"All the boys have six-packs. Mica, even you have a little girl six-pack. I just feel... weird," he sighed. I gave him a sympathetic look.

"You're perfect, Niall. How many fans tell you you're beautiful? A lot. How many call you ugly? Hardly any do anymore. You're fine just the way you are."

"Niall." I glared at him. He gave me a fuck-off-I'm-not-doing-it look while I glared. 

"No, Mica, I'm fine," he told me sternly.

"You'll get heat-stroke, Niall. Take. It. Off."

Niall sighed and shook his head. "No Mica," he said again, this time becoming clearly agitated. I knew Niall wasn't happy with his body, but he should be. It was just us.

Louis and Harry walked in lastly. Today is the first day that Harry actually took his shirt off, I noticed. He had told me he had a few tattoo's he didn't want me to see. Few?

"Jesus Harry, what's with all the tattoo's?" I questioned with a giggle. Niall looked over at Louis and Harry and stiffened. Although it was hard to see Harry's body through the butterfly tattoo on his stomach, it was clear he was fit.