Broken Strings || Niall Horan [AU]

● PART TWO: 09 | just friends

"How are you, Mum? How's your day been?" I ask quickly, forcing a smile as she thankfully turns her attention back to me. 

She takes a long drag on her cigarette, emitting smoke, which makes me cough. "It was fine. Just fine," she says, a dazed look in her eye. 

I remember my earlier activities. "Oh! I made you some cookies. Did you see them?" 

Of course she didn't, I think bitterly. Too drunk and sad to notice anything anymore. She shakes her head, confirming my assumption. 

"They're in the kitchen. Would you like me to put the kettle on?" Casting one last glance up the stairs, I eagerly lead her down the hallway, into the kitchen and further away from Niall. 

"No, I'm fine with my wine, thanks."

"Well, I'm going to make some tea." I flick the kettle on before guiding Mum to the kitchen counter, lifting the plate of chocolate chunk cookies up for her to see; she nods and forces a smile, looking anything but thankful or impressed. 

I examine her skinny, freckled arms, her emaciated body, and realise that she hasn't eaten anything properly in days. I stare at her, then back at the cookies, willing her to pick one up and take a bite. But instead, she simply mutters, "I'll let you know if I change my mind about the tea," and turns away. 

I frown, annoyed, but quickly shake my head; I have bigger things to worry about. Like Niall. When the coast is clear, I grab two cookies -- one for him and one for myself -- and pour two steaming mugs of tea. I have no idea if Niall likes tea, but I'm sure he'll appreciate a warm beverage. I'm about to head upstairs when Mum reappears, leaning against the living room doorway. "Oh, Anna? You know what we were talking about last night?"

"About Dad?"

"Yeah. Well, I'm sorry. It's as hard for you as it is for me, and sometimes I forget that. It's just... he was my whole world. Well, so were you, but..." She drifts off, her eyes misting over. She stares at thin air as if waiting for something, or preparing herself to say something more, but quickly shakes her head as if thinking better of it. She's just about to turn away when she notices the two cups of tea, the two large cookies, which I've artfully balanced on top of each mug. "Why do you have two cups of tea? I told you I didn't want one."

"I-I know," I stammer, my breath catching in my throat. "This one's, um, for me. You know how much I love my tea. Have to have two mugs on the go -- one just isn't enough. I'm an addict, mother." I fake a teasing grin and turn on my heel, heading swiftly upstairs. Thankfully, Mum doesn't question this; she turns away, too, and I hear the living room door close behind her. 

When I reach my room, I find Niall sitting on my bed. "Here; have a cookie. I made you tea, too. If you don't like it, I'll have it. I'm an addict, apparently." I chuckle uneasily, placing our mugs and cookies down on the bedside table, flopping down onto the mattress beside Niall. And that's when I notice the blade in his hand. He's staring at it, a frown fixed to his face. 

Instantly, my heart begins to beat twice as fast. I sit up, tucking my hair behind one ear. "Niall, I-"

"When was the last time you did it?" He asks, looking at me. 

Vivid memories strike me like lightning and I pull the sleeves of my jumper down over my hands. "It was Friday," I say quietly, staring at my fumbling fingers. 

"Friday? The day before yesterday? Shit, Anna." 

Silence falls upon us. "It's bad, I know," I say eventually. "But it was the day before the anniversary of my father's death and I wasn't exactly in the best of moods."