Bottles, Dreams, and Empty Promises [completed]

A/N: 600 fans, omg. Thank you!! :D Chapter dedicated to one of my friends who has been waiting for this chapter for ageeees. Love you "Niallmun", lmao. (; xx

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Hayley?”

I rubbed my eyes groggily as I spoke, blinking a few times so that my eyes could adjust to the darkness of the room.  Wearily, I rolled over- and regretted that move instantly, for the next thing I knew, I found myself falling onto the floor with a rather loud thump.

I was definitely not in the hospital.

“Magenta?” a door creaked open and light flooded in.  Niall’s silhouette lingered by the doorway for a while, before he entered the room completely, flicked the light switch on, and shut the door behind him.

“Wh-What happened?” I asked, puzzled, as I got up and sat back down on the bed.

“You were holding Hayley’s hand and crying,” Niall explained, looking me straight in the eye.  “The next thing we knew, your sobs died down and you were asleep.  Liam told me to bring you home because he said that you needed your rest.  He said that he’d call if anything happened.”

I digested this information for a while, before nodding.  “What about Harry?”

“He wouldn’t budge,” Niall sighed.  “Not even Louis could convince him to go home.  He’s wide awake, with Hayley.”

“Good.  Now at least I know that she’s safe.”

Disbelief flashed across Niall’s gorgeous blue eyes, but before I knew it, the emotion was gone, with pure concern in its place.

“Magenta,” Niall looked hesitant as he spoke.  “If… If you don’t mind me asking, what did happen to your parents?”

I flinched.  I’d expected this.  I’d expected to face this question at one time or another, and, since my outburst at the hospital, I’d expected to hear it even sooner.  And yet, for some unfathomable reason, I was still paralysed by it.  I wasn’t ready to reply.  I wasn’t prepared to respond.

“Y-You don’t have to answer it,” Niall told me hastily, looking slightly uneasy and guilty now.  “I'm sorry… I… I'm such an idiot.  I shouldn’t have asked… I didn’t think before… Shit, I'm so, so bloody sorry.”

I bit my lip as I watched him run his left hand through his hair nervously.  The room was quiet – a little too quiet for my comfort – and I decided to break the silence by letting out a sigh.

“It’s okay,” I found myself saying.  I took a deep breath.  “I’ll… I’ll tell you.”

Niall looked surprised, and I mirrored his expression.  I was as taken aback by my newfound courage as he was.

“When I was nine, my parents died,” I blurted.  “I was at home with my babysitter because it was my parents’ anniversary.  My dad was bringing my mum out for dinner and… And… T-That was the night… The night my m-mum died,” my voice was dry and hollow.  My mind was elsewhere as I recalled everything that had happened.  It was so vague, yet so distinct.  It seemed so impossible, yet it was utterly real.  “Nobody… Nobody even saw it coming.  It just… It just did.  Out of the blue.  T-The van.  Around the corner.  He was… He was drunk.”

I stopped, taking a deep breath.  My hands were shaking.  Truthfully, talking about my parents hurt a lot more than I’d imagined.  I was astounded that I’d even managed to make it this far.  Relating the story of their deaths out loud made it feel more terrifying.  More haunting.  More real.

Wordlessly, Niall crossed the room and sat beside me.  He put an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me gently.  And, for some reason, I felt comforted.

“You know that song Ed Sheeran wrote for you guys?” I whispered, closing my eyes and resting my head on his shoulder as he consoled me.

“Moments?  Yeah.”

“It’s my favourite song,” I said quietly.  “I know Ed said that it wasn’t about suicide, but to me, it always will be.  I don’t know why, but that’s how I interpreted the lyrics when I first heard it, and that message – that meaning – has stuck with me since,” I told him.  “My… My dad… Well, let’s just say, a week later, I came home from school to find him hanging from a rope tied to the ceiling fan…” I let out a sniff as my vision was blurred by tears of pure anguish and agony at the memory.