Empty Inside (Diall)

Niall || Final Part

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Niall || Part Five

       “Are you alright? Sure you’re not sick, love?” I asked gently, comforting her as I spoke. “Really, Demi, if you’re sick, you didn’t have to force yourself to come with me. We could’ve just hung out in your apartment.”

       Her vomiting ceased and she proceeded to wipe off the remains of vomit staining her mouth. She splattered water towards her face and let the water run through her hands a while longer before finally finishing up and facing me.

       She really worried me.

       Taking a closer look at her, she seemed weaker, paler, and her breaths were uneven.

       Because she still hadn’t answered, I repeated my question. “Are you really okay…?”

       “No, Niall. I—I’m really not.” A few tears escaped as admitted this.

       I decided to stay quiet and simply help lead Demi back to the picnic. I didn’t think questioning her would be such a bright idea. Nonetheless, that didn’t change the curiosity dwelling in me. I needed to be reassured she was okay. I am her boyfriend. I believe that gives me a responsibility to care for her somehow. And on top of that, I still refused to believe that she was going through such horrible things a second time.

       I felt like it could’ve been my fault.

       “I think you may have drank a little too much. Plus, I noticed how you only ate chips, so…why not try some cake?” I asked, smiling at her, hoping that she’d eat and prove Joe’s words wrong.

       I just felt like it could’ve been my fault for not being beside her.

       Maybe it really was my fault.

       “I’m so sorry, Niall.”

       I snickered sheepishly. If anyone was sorry, it should’ve been me. If one of us had to suffer, it should’ve been me.

       “What are you sorry about?” I asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Now, come on, you must be feeling bad so have a bite of cake! I don’t really have anything warm prepared…”

       “No,” she shook her head. “It’s not that. I…I lied.”

       Lied? “About what…?”

       “I’m not exactly sick but…I…”

       She trailed off constantly. And found it difficult to finish her sentence. Was she going to say it…? Was she going to admit that she was anorexic again?

       I began to sink into my thoughts more as silence deafens me. And then I realized, if she was anorexic, this was hurting her more than it hurt me. She may have even believed that…I’d come to hate her because of such a thing.

       It’s funny, when you’re in love you’re conscious of absolutely everything about yourself that you forget what could be going on in their minds. You forget that they’d be worrying twice as much as you could ever worry. You may even forget that your pain causes their pain as well.

       Looks like leprechauns do have their moments of wisdom despite originally being mischievous shoe-makers.

       “I’m anorexic again!” Demi exclaimed, tossing her arms upwards exasperatedly—interrupting me from my thoughts. Tears still continued to roll down her face, and she even forced a smile. It didn’t look good at all but I just stared at her simply. Just because she was struggling a second time it wouldn’t mean much to me.