Intent 2: Fight or Flight [Wattys 2017] (ON HOLD)

Chapter 5

I never really noticed before but Niall does really well for himself. The bar seems to be always packed not to mention that he owns his own business with his brother. And those are the only things I got to know last night when I got to the pub.

Maybe in another world he and I could have been something more but that could never happen. He's too sweet and he's a great friend. Plus he doesn't have any romantic interest in me, thank goodness. And if there was any doubt the drool stain left on my shirt where his head was resting on my tummy is evidence enough that we are purely platonic.

Yes it's silly, I haven't known him for that long but when I was trying to figure out where to run away to last night all I could think about was him and the sweet comfort of his bar.

And no not in the stupid mushy, romantic way you might be thinking. Niall is stable and lighthearted, I need a little more of that in my life at the moment and Niall fits the bill perfectly.

I pad over the couch and wrap myself in the blanket I find there. It's weird being here, especially given all the expectations I had for this morning.

In my perfect scenario, I had pictured this morning being a lot like it had been Christmas morning. Harry and I would wake up tangled up in each other, warm and at home and we'd make love until we were completely exhausted and just fall asleep before waking up a few hours later and doing it all over again.

This morning was supposed to be like that. I was supposed to be wrapped up in my newly open love for Harry not in some thin blanket in a friends flat miles and miles away.

Swiftly I find the coffee and start making myself a cup. There is so much to process from the past 24 hours that I need a little pick me up and since Niall refused to serve me any alcohol last night, I'm in desperate need now.

He was relentless on that front, actually. Pissed me the fuck off but it was coming from a caring place so I guess I can't complain.

No, I'm still pissed.

When I barged my way into his pub last night, bags in hand, I could tell instantly that he knew something was up. It hasn't been long since I had my little emotional episode during the winter holiday, I doubt he expected to see me here so soon.

Like I always do I sat down and demanded a drink. He refused. I asked again and again, he said no again and again. Well Niall's exact words were actually, "Ohhhh no, I'm not letting you do this again."

There is a portion of me that wished he didn't care and just let me drink. All I wanted was to drown myself in as many drinks as I could handle after what I did on the plane. I felt guilty and used and dirty and I just wanted to forget.

I still do.

Not that I should have felt that way, or still feel that way, not like Harry deserves it but I couldn't stop my feelings.

Still can't get over it.

It was obvious that I needed a drink and wish I could say Niall helped me out eventually by allowing me a few drinks but last night he was everything but agreeable.

"Niall come on! Just give it to me." I asked reaching for my glass that he was pulling away from me with a sly and knowing smirk.

"No no no," he said shaking his head at me, far to pleased that he had all the power. "I don't want your boyfriend coming round here and beating me to a pulp this time around. Not happening."

I cringed at the mere mention of him, the sight of Harry and Jessica in bed together the only thing I could think about in that moment.

During the short plane ride last night, I let my anger bubble up and allowed the questions come flooding in. I wish they didn't. I wish I could have stopped them but I couldn't.