Fake (N.S)

43. (!)

Niall's POV

The thought of my mother's recent apology had stayed on my mind for quite a while. I just couldn't decide on what to do about it and it was slowly starting to drive me mad.

The rational side of me wanted to deny any chance for her to mess up my life any more than she already had. The side of me that was fully okay with not forgiving my mother. After all, she had never given me a reason to trust her. 

As easy as that was to follow, there was then the sensitive part of me that wanted to pretend everything was okay and try to gain any sort of relationship with her, which was making this whole dilemma so much harder to work out.

I never thought I would ever have to think about this. I always imagined leaving my parents at eighteen years old and never seeing them again. I never would have thought that something like this would happen.

Saying that, I didn't particularly think that I would be in love with Harry Styles but that had happened.

I guess that I would just have to deal with this the same way that I had dealt with everything, which was to just let it happen.

~

I stepped out of Harry's car, hearing him get out of the driver's seat. I turned, grinning at him for no reason other than the fact that I was grateful that he was still there with me. He returned the grin, his eyes looking over me with the very same fond expression that seemed to take over his face every time he looked at me.

"You didn't have to get out of the car," I told him.

"What if I wanted to walk you to your door?" he countered.

I laughed, thinking of what would happen if Harry saw my father again.

He was one second away from coming inside and confronting my father himself. As amusing as it would be for me to witness my clumsy dork of a boyfriend confront my awfully hostile father, I knew that it was unneeded drama and would lead to me getting into worse trouble once Harry left.

I rolled my eyes, causing Harry's grin to grow as he approached me, his arms wrapping around my waist and his chin resting on top of my head.

"Relax, it's only a weekend. I'll see you on Monday," I said, almost seeing Harry roll his eyes.

"Call me if anything happens," he said softly.

"Alright, dad," I rolled my eyes again, this time feeling Harry's hands grip me harder, though it didn't particularly hurt me.

I looked up, meeting his eyes, which had darkened a significant amount, clearly not seeing my previous words as a light-hearted joke but a reminder of previous sexual activities we had done.

"Careful," he muttered.

"Love you," I whispered, kissing him softly.

"Love you too. Don't let your dad talk shit to you, okay?" he replied.

"Do I ever?"

"Good," he smiled, cupping my cheek in his hand.

"Are you going to let me go inside now?" I asked, causing Harry to roll his eyes once again, but his arm loosened from my waist, allowing me to walk up my driveway. I heard Harry get into his car and drive off once he saw that I had safely opened the front door.

As I predicted, I was greeted by my father's annoyed glare as I entered the house, which meant he knew exactly what had happened right outside his house

"I refuse to accept that disgusting behaviour in public. Particularly not in front of my home," he hissed.

"I'm not going to let you dictate my life," I replied calmly.