Niall Horan: My Bad Romance

Chapter 15: His rock

Something had happened. I gathered that the moment Niall picked up the phone to Austin whilst we had sat huddled on the sofa. His voice had sounded carefree and euphoric when he had picked up the call. In a split second it all had changed. His whole body had tensed, the muscles rippling against my skin. I had moved my head away from his chest and looked up to assess his face. His mouth was pulled into a furious scowl, his forehead wrinkled in worry. The knuckles of his right hand had gone white with the strain of force he was putting onto his phone. 

He rotated his head down to meet my questioning gaze and the hostility that shone in them, caused me to tremble. Every ounce of love and happiness had been drained from the crystal blue and instead swam loathing and disgust. My own eyes had widened, showing only worry for him. He had leant forward and pressed his dry, stiff lips to my forehead. But more out of necessity rather than actually wanting to. All I knew was that he did it for my benefit, to make me feel safe. It hadn't worked.

Then in a blink of an eye we were fast walking along the main road, hand in hand. We jostled past commuters and tourists, slithering through the crowds. With each step our pace quickened until we were out right sprinting. Niall's hand was the only thing that gave me the energy to continue running. Blood started to pulse in my ears and my breathing deepened, gasping for air at every opportunity. My hair flowed out behind me, clearing my sticky skin. 

Swiftly, Niall skittered out into the road, hailing a taxi and helping me inside, he leapt in and gave the driver our address. He stretched his legs out and sat, regaining his breath. I mimicked his actions my hand frantically fanning my face.

'Made you run a little, ey?' He muttered between breaths, his hand reaching back over to capture mine. I moved it away before his fingers caught it. 'Daisy?'

He bent the top half of his body towards me, a panic-stricken look on his face.

'What's going on?' I blurted out and all expression dropped from his face. Shit. He wasn't going to tell me. I mentally face palmed myself and snorted.

'Don't worry; I knew you wouldn't tell me. Who'd trust a girl?' I spat and sulkily turned my body to stare out of the window.

'Daisy, it's not that and you know it,' he urged quietly, making a grab for my hand and this time getting hold of it just in time. He tugged lightly on my arm, forcing me to look at him. His blonde hair was ruffled, a few pieces dropping down near his eyes.

'I haven't said a word about anything and I have absolutely no intention of doing so. Why don't I get the right to know what is going on? And why I had to leave my drink half full,' I pouted and he chuckled, reaching out to pinch my cheek.

'Trust that to be your concern,' he ran a hand through his hair and huffed. 'Okay you at least deserve to know where we're headed.'

'Thank you lord,' I praised. 'I earned the right to know where my kidnapper is taking me.'

I smirked at him and he chuckled, rubbing his thumb across my hand. 'We're going to our warehouse,' he said simply. I frowned.

'Warehouse? What for dead bodies?' I teased lightly and he shot me a scowl.

'Not funny,' he said firmly but I grinned freely at him. 

'I think I'm hilarious,' I said smugly and he dropped his serious facade and laughed.

'You would.'

'So...why are we going there? Actually more importantly why am I going there?' I asked and his eyes left mine for a brief moment.

'We're going there because we have a slight,' he paused for a moment, choosing his word perfectly, 'issue. Nothing major, all business related. And you're coming along because I don't want you leaving my side.' He tried to say this lightly but I could sense an implicit meaning to his words.