Untamed [Niall Horan]

Chapter Four

"If you're here to steal anything, then you should just leave," He said bluntly.

I raised my eyebrows. "Steal?" Then, glancing at the picture frame in my hands, I held it up to hand to him. "I was just looking. I wasn't going to take anything."

"Why are you up here?" He questioned sharply, as if I was supposed to be nowhere near him or his friends' things.

"It was kind of overwhelming downstairs."

"Why didn't you leav-"

"Is this twenty questions or something?" I asked sarcastically, and then noticed he didn't take it as a joke, which I had hoped for. "Anyway, what are you doing up here? Aren't you supposed to love partying?"

Niall nodded to the bed, and I followed the nod to see a bag indeed sitting on the bed, which I presumed was his. I turned back around to meet his gaze, and felt his bright blue gaze piercing through me, like he knew all my secrets. I hated that feeling. I quickly looked away, down to the ground, and began to look at my nude wedges, as if I wanted to examine them.

I heard Niall begin to move around towards the bed, where I found myself sitting, and he finally remarked, "You don't know me, then."

"I never said I did," I snapped back.

"Who invited you?" He asked suddenly, and before I could even worry about answering it, he continued, "Why have I never seen you before, but now suddenly you're everywhere I turn?"

I felt a sense of panic kick in when he asked me that, and I didn't even know how to answer. I certainly couldn't tell him the truth, that's for sure, because if I ruined the plan then I ruined everything for me and Annabelle. He sighed, displeased at how I didn't have a response, and kept going.

"If you're a fan or something, I get it, but can you fuck off?"

That made me mad. Before I realized what I was doing, I was standing up, red in the face, ready to scream. "Can you just quit it with the bad attitude all the time? It's not my fault we've been running into each other a ton lately! It's just how the world works! Get over yourself, would you? And I can only pray to God that you have never said those words to a fan, because they have given you everything, and all you've done is be an asshole in return."

Niall looked up at me with his puzzling gaze that I will never be able to read and the corner of his lips turned upward into a smirk. I wanted to punch him straight in the nose, then, but barely stopped myself from doing so. Instead, I just turned around and walked straight out of the room, taking my chances with the stupid drunkards that were trying to grab me and hold me  to talk or flirt with me along the way.

I was downstairs drinking my third beer when I finally saw a recognizable face. It was Louis and Zayn, both clearly plastered, holding drinks in their hands and over-enthusiastically greeting me with hugs and kisses on the cheek. I told them about my encounter with Niall - or at least tried to, when they weren't interrupting me - and quickly realized that they weren't listening. They were too drunk.

"Pretty girl, don't be upset," Louis slurred, and took a large swig of whatever was in his cup. "Here, d'you want some?"

I glanced in the cup to see clear liquid, and took as big a swig as he had before, letting the contents trickle down my newly burning throat before feeling more light headed than I had before. It went like that for a few more minutes - me drinking Louis' drink, and then my own, until I couldn't walk in a straight line if you paid me to.