Fight For Her || n.h

Chapter 33 - "I stayed for you."

"Too bad I missed it." He smirked, looking up from his phone.

I rolled my eyes and pulled on a pair of sweat shorts and an old t-shirt. I gathered my hair and wrapped the towel around it before sitting down on the bed next to him.

"Is that my shirt?" He asked.

"Is it? I always thought it was Marcus'."

He gave me a look.

"Alright, I always knew it was yours. Couldn't throw it away."

He smiled proudly and I saw him posting a couple of photos from the festival on Instagram. I asked him to send me those he took of me so I could post them as well. Then he put away his phone and grabbed my hand in his, and just played with my fingers.

I noticed after a while that he was looking at my wrist.

"It's addictive, isn't it?" He mumbled.

"What, self-harming?"

"Well, that too, but I was actually talking about your tattoo. But it's kind of the same thing. You get addicted to the pain."

"You have like, what, thirty-something tattoos, and I know the meaning behind two of them."

"I only know two of yours too, and you have three."

I sat up and swung my right leg over his waist, straddling him.

"You know about the heart." I said, touching the back of my neck.

"It's not complete." He nodded. "Like you sometimes feel."

"And the infinity symbol is just a sister tattoo I got with Scarlett."

He nodded, and reached up to pull up my shirt a little, so he could see the anchor on my ribcage.

"What about this one?"

"It symbolises my depression. It weighs me down."

He once again took my hand in his, and lightly kissed it.

"It kind of matches the one you have on your ribcage." I told him.

I took the hem of his shirt in my hands and slowly pulled it off of him. I traced my finger across the "Screaming at the top of my lungs" text that was written along his side. Then I noticed some black ink right below his collarbone. It was a new one, and it was ";".

"When did you get that?" I asked him. "The semicolon sign."

"Years ago." He said with a shrug.

I reached out to touch it.

"You're lying. It still pops out."

"Okay, I got it like two weeks ago. But it's completely meaning–"

"Don't you dare say meaningless." I stopped him. "I know what it means, Niall. It's used when an author could have ended a sentence, but chose not to. You are the author and the sentence is your life."

"Maybe I didn't know that. Maybe I just got it because it looked cool." He fought back.

I placed my hand on his ribcage again. And he placed his hands on my thighs, where I had somewhat fresh scars.

"How come two suicidal people chose to stay?" He eventually asked.

"I stayed for you."

He sat up straight and carefully wrapped his arms around my waist.

"And now it's my turn to stay for you."

I smiled a little and wrapped my arms around his neck.