Code Black (N.S)

12.

Niall's POV

I was unsure of how long we had been stuck inside the closet. It must have been a while, considering my entire body was feeling rather stiff from sitting in the same position, which was still practically on Harry's lap. 

He was silent, looking at the wall opposite him, his expression almost completely blank. I wondered how he was so easily able to mask his emotions. He almost seemed distracted, though he immediately glanced towards me as I sat up straight. 

The look in his eyes was considerably vulnerable. If I were to see him like this without knowing who he was, I would assume that he was a sweet and innocent guy. I would have been wrong, he was the opposite of what he looked like. He may have a beautiful appearance and innocent look to him but he was nothing like that.

Though he seemed to be acting different. I didn't know how to react to it. I didn't know if I was able to trust him. 

The rational part of me said that I shouldn't, as he had hurt me way too many times to even consider forgiving him. It made sense. He practically ruined me. A simple apology shouldn't be enough to change my mind. I had been through this enough times to know that some people were just shitty, they didn't deserve any forgiveness. 

Though there was another part of my brain telling me that he might be the last person I ever see, that I should at least be on good terms with him if I never got to see anyone else ever again. 

Of course, I wasn't really going to trust him based on one apology. There would have to be a lot more before I even considered trusting him, whether or not I would live enough to see it. 

I just couldn't help but keep seeing the look in his eyes when he apologised. I had seen many people hurt me, but none of them apologised like this. Not one of those people looked at me the way he did, as if he was truly disgusted with everything he had done. I was conflicted. 

I deemed those thoughts unimportant at that moment. I could figure out my changing feelings at a more appropriate time.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes staring into mine with a worried expression.

I was confused as to why he was suddenly so nice. I expected the kindness to be temporary, before he returned to his usual asshole persona. I was just waiting for him to hit me or insult me in some way and the longer he was nice to me, the more confused I felt. 

I didn't want to question his mood change and risk making him mad, so I left it and acted as naturally as I possibly could.

"I'm fine, Harry. Just a little shaken up," I muttered but we both could tell that I wasn't being completely truthful.

I could feel a few bruises that he had given me in the past, they seemed to almost burn whenever he looked at me. They didn't feel as painful as they used to but their presence was noticed and was hard to ignore. However, I didn't want to bring those up to Harry, worried that I would make him feel even guiltier than he already was.

Maybe that was dumb of me. Perhaps I should be reminding him of the awful things he did to me. It wasn't as if they were accidents, so maybe he deserved to feel guilty about it but I didn't want that. Call me crazy but I didn't want to hurt him, even if he hurt me. 

He nodded, his expression didn't change, as though he knew I was in pain but wasn't going to assume anything unless I brought it up. The silence returned between us, yet it surprisingly wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be. Sure, it was rather scary, as there were no sign of what the gunmen were doing but in a way, it was also strangely comfortable. 

We hadn't heard anyone yet but I wasn't getting my hopes up. I knew that if Harry and I let our guards down, they would easily be able to find us and we couldn't do anything to save ourselves.

I shifted my position slightly, moving my injured stomach in the process and I suddenly felt a flash of pain, causing me to let out a gasp.

Harry looked at me as he heard the noise leave my mouth. His eyes scanned my face, frowning once he noticed that I was hurting. 

"Niall?" Harry asked, his eyes searching my face. 

I looked up to meet his gaze, biting my lip when I noticed the expression on his face. 

"Where does it hurt?" he questioned. 

I could also tell that he knew that he was the cause of whatever it was.

"Stomach," I gasped quietly.

He gave me a small nod of understanding, his eyes flooding with sympathy as he looked down at the effected area. His eyes hinted that he knew exactly why I was hurt. Although he knew that he was the cause, he said nothing about it and reached for the end of my shirt.

He started to gently lift it up, making me instinctively reach down and try to stop him from lifting it anymore. The last thing I wanted was for him to see my bare skin.

Harry didn't listen to my protests, he simply removed my hand and looked back into my eyes.

"Niall, please. I'm not-- I'm not going to judge you. I'm only going to look at the injury but to do that, I need to lift your shirt," he whispered.

Sighing, I nodded and felt his hands back on my shirt. I made no effort to stop him and instead allowed him pull the fabric away from my stomach.

I refused to look at him as he slid my shirt up, too embarrassed at my own body to think about looking. I didn't like my body at all, it was small, pale and had little to no muscle. Having Harry be the one looking at it made me feel so much worse. 

He said nothing about the way I looked, probably meaning that whatever he wanted to say was stuck in his head. His frown deepened, eyes scanning over what I assumed to be whatever it was that was hurting me. 

I looked down to see that my stomach had a large bruise and looking at it seemed to make it hurt more. I didn't want to think about it but I knew exactly where the bruise had came from.

From the looks of things, Harry was thinking the same thing. His eyes were clouded with guilt and I could faintly see that his eyes started watering slightly. 

Did he really care about it that much?

"Niall, I'm so sorry," he let out, worry and guilt still prominent in his eyes.

"It's fine," I mumbled. "It was from before. You haven't hurt me since then and I told you...I'm over it," I said softly as his eyes trailed up to look at me. 

"Niall, I have been hurting you non stop since you moved here. That isn't okay. You should hate me. I don't deserve your forgiveness," he breathed out.

I shook my head softly. Sure, he had hurt me and I probably shouldn't be so forgiving but since he was the only person around, who had been trying to keep me calm throughout this entire situation, perhaps I could make an exception.

"It doesn't matter," I said quietly.

He was going to reply, until we heard a loud voice from a close proximity, seeming to be right outside.

"Hey boys, we haven't checked the closet yet."