Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ Eʟᴇᴠᴇɴ

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“Niall, what are we doing?”

                 He turned his head towards the sound of her cracking voice, seeing her eyebrows on her forehead rising like the sun had that morning, climbing higher and higher to the problem set drifting with the clouds until the rays shined upon it. The problem that he had spent so hard trying to conceal by tossing it along with the others now had been singled out and revealed. It wasn’t just going to pass on by; they needed to talk about it, right there, right then.

                ‘And here I thought it was going to be an easy afternoon…’

                The two had been relaxing on the couch, scrunched up with their knees to their chest, lights dimmed down to just a glowing peachy orange, and their eyes glaring lazily at the TV placed in front of them. A tossed blanket was being shared, but they scooted as far as they could away from each other on opposite ends of the couch. Niall coming home from his latest tour surely didn’t stop them from being on opposite ends of their worlds.

                Another laugh of a fake studio audience boomed, causing Niall to cringe.

                The joke wasn’t funny enough to win a hearty chuckle from him as it usually did.

                “What do you mean?” Niall responded with such dryness, drumming his fingers on the armrest.

                “You know exactly what I mean!” she thrashed, her hands flying and jerky movements of her head. He sighed loudly, annoyed and irked with a hint of irritation.

                “Well, I thought we were watching TV, but apparently not, according to you!” he replied his volume rising against the TV’s.

                “Dammit Niall, that’s not what I mean! Are you really just that oblivious, that stupid to realize there’s something wrong?”

                “Oh yes, because just wanting to have a nice afternoon for once makes me the most idiotic person alive.” Niall retorted.

                Circles.

                Always going in circles, back and forth, ‘round and ‘round, snapping back and laying blames and unkind remarks at each other and cutting corners around the actual problem.

                It was her turn to heave a sigh.

                “I don’t mean this,” she said, sticking out an arm towards the TV, “I mean this.” She was gesturing towards the space in the blanket between them. “Us. You and me. Together as a couple… can we even call ourselves that anymore? Or are we just two people stuck in one place at once, always fighting? What’s wrong with us, Niall?”

                He fell silent.

                “We never figure it out. Just a few words here and there, you always blaming it on your career. Danielle and Liam aren’t like this. Neither are Zayn and Perrie. You’re in the same band as them, right? You do the same things everyday with them? Then why can’t we be the cute couple, not one that everyone is expecting to fall apart sooner or later?

                “And besides, you’re home now. You’ve been home for a week. Niall, there’s no crazy fangirl stalking your back, no distraction from the media, no manager telling you what to do. There’s nothing to worry about. You’re in this small town, anonymous.

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