your whispers are voiceless

Broken House Of Payne

Broken House Of Payne ( o n e - s h o t  )

Summary: Niall's phone rings in the middle of the night . . .

Niall's phone rings in the middle of the night, causing him to stir in his sleep. The annoying ringing continues. Opening his eyes, he groans.

Who could be calling at --he turns his sleep-fogged vision to the digital clock on the night stand-- two in the morning? Niall rubs the sleep off his eyes. Propping himself in a sitting position, he reaches for the phone and places it against his ears.

"Is this Niall?" The voice is dark and deep, sending shivers down Niall's spine. His body immediately jolts awake,and his heart starts to thump furiously against his chest.

"Who is t-this?" he asks, trying to sound tough and nonchalant, but his voice fails him.

"That's not important. The thing is, your boyfriend, Liam, left a small black box that actually belongs to me," the dark voice explains --slow with a pinch of bitter humor, just like how villains tell their victims their plan before killing them. "Give it to me. Tonight. At the broken house of Payne. Tell no one, if you ever want to see your pretty little boyfriend ever again." If it were under different circumstances, Niall would've laughed at the corniness of the dark voice's words; they were something Louis would say. But right now, he is shaking like hell at the thought of not seeing Liam.

"No! Don't go, Ni!" a shout erupts from the back ground, and Niall's eyes widen. Liam.

"Let him go you fucker!" he shouts, anger seeping through his voice. An evil hollow laughter booms from the other line.

"I suggest you follow my instructions then. You have thirty minutes." And then the line is dead, the dial tone screeching eerily against his ears. He sits there for a moment. Unmoving. Unblinking. Frightened.

30 minutes.

He leaps into action, pulling on the nearest jean and sweatshirt he could find. He then snatches the small, velvety black box from his top drawer and sprints out his bedroom, out their house, and into the cold autumn night air.

Niall continues on to the dirt path and onto the road, turning his head from side to side every once in a while --afraid that someone might be watching him from the thick forest on the other side of the road. His chest heaves as he pants heavily, and his legs begin to burn from the running. His sneakers squeak underneath him as they harshly sweep on the road.

He didn't bother writing a note to his parents and tell them that he had gone for a short walk. He didn't bother to tell them how much he loves them or how much he cares for them, or how much he'll miss them if he ever dies on this probably suicidal mission. --because the only thing running in his mind at the moment is Liam.

Liam who loves watching Toy Story.

Liam who is not very good at cooking but still tries anyway.

Liam who would make Niall smile and laugh whenever he's down.

Liam who Niall fell in love with.

They've been dating for over four years now, as impossible as it seemed, especially for teenagers. They are in love. They always had been ever since the love hormones took over their body long ago, except none of them actually knew of this.

They remained blind to the fact as could be; they probably would have for the rest of their lives if it weren't for their three best mates who had convinced them to just go on a date and snog.

They have been through a lot --their parents' approval, the society's approval, heart breaks every now and then-- and Niall isn't about to give up now. Not now when everything is going so smoothly; when their love for each other is as solid and real and just so strong as all the world's realism and fantasies combined.