Game Theory × NH

075 | rhenium

Tears swelled in my eyes and I didn't even bother to stop them. I didn't deserve someone like Jamie or Niall. They've been nothing but good, building my confidence back up only for me to knock all their progress down like a ton of building blocks the moment Bradley touches me.

I was weak, and I was doing nothing but hurting everyone around me. The look on Niall's face said that loud and clear.

"The worst part of this is that I see myself in him," Niall whispered.

The words right there hit a cord in me like an out of tune guitar. My heart actually physically jumped in my chest. If this was a few months ago, hell yeah, I wouldn't have argued with him. I always believed Bradley and Niall were the same person, both uses girls and only shows sides of themselves they want to display. But I've learned so much in so little time, that I've made the mistake to think that for far too long. The two of them couldn't have been more opposite.

"You are no Bradley," I said softly.

Sitting up from the bed, I reached over and grabbed his hand from his lap and laced my fingers with his. His mind was reeling with millions of thoughts, and from the constant fidgeting, I knew over half of them were a mix of heartbroken and perplexing feelings.

I ran my thumb up the back of his hand, tracing along the prominent vain running from his fingers, to his wrist, and all down his arm. He visibly shivered from my touch.

"Thank you," I added. "For... everything these past few days. Thank you for not making me talk about them, and thank you for not asking any questions. It's been really tough for me, but I'm really glad you're here."

Niall squeezed my hand and gave me a soft smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

Eventually the day came to an end and the next time I woke up it was Christmas morning.

I think Grandma was more excited about today than anyone else. When I stepped out of my bedroom, I found her in the kitchen with flour on her face and colorful bows stuck to her ugly Santa sweater. She was milling around, preparing Christmas dinner and wasn't even aware when I took a seat at the island counter.

Christmas had always been her holiday. She was always lively, but you hadn't seen anything if you hadn't seen her on Jesus's birthday.

Her curly gray hair was pulled back in reindeer antlers and her quarter moon shaped glasses had fallen to the edge of her nose, and her dull blue eyes were alive with festivities. If Santa were real, I might have mistaken her as Mrs. Claus.

Three minutes later she finally noticed I was watching her. "You're awake!"

She walked around the island and gave me a big hug. She was small, only going up to my shoulders, but her bear hugs were more like bear traps. "I'm sorry for staying in my room all of Christmas Eve," I told her.

"Oh, nonsense," she said with a wave of her hand. "Niall and Jamie make good company. Are you feeling better?"

Niall walked into the kitchen then, hair messy and in the middle of a yawn. He caught my eye and nodded in my direction before he went to the sink and grabbed a glass of water.

He may not have done a lot for me these past few days - he didn't have any reason to - but he did stay by my side through all of it. Comfort didn't necessarily mean wrapping your arm around someone and telling them that everything was going to be alright. Sometimes just being near the person was enough, because you know they're there for you.