One in a Million (A Niall Horan Fan Fiction)

Chapter Twenty-One

I regained consciousness slowly but surely. In the other room I heard a low murmur of voices coming from just outside the door. I groaned, and rolled to my side leisurely. I came to the conclusion that I must have been at my aunt’s house for the Christmas holidays.

I pictured my aunt tinkering about in the kitchen, struggling to prepare a meal. I pictured my uncle sitting in his rocking chair, with his feet propped up on the coffee table. I could see my two young cousins in full snowsuits arguing about who got to ride down the hill first when they went tobogganing. I could practically smell the fresh aroma of chocolate coming from my aunt’s famous oatmeal cookies, accompanied with a large mug of steaming hot cocoa. I visualized the Christmas tree with the golden glass angel perched on top, and lights flashing all around it, giving me a strong sense of home.

However as I stretched out my muscles, I suddenly remembered I was not at my aunt’s house. In fact, I was very, very far away.

It was not Christmas, and I hadn’t seen my aunt in months. There was no shining angel sitting on the top of my tree, no flashing lights. Imagining the entire homely scene made me feel a thousand times lonelier.

Gradually, I opened my eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light streaming through the window. I tried not to picture Morgan’s face from the night before when I started to recall what had happened. I quickly realized I was sleeping in a bed completely external to me. I imprecisely remembered drifting off into sleep in Niall’s supportive arms while lying on the couch, my makeup and tears staining my face. Niall must have carried me to bed.

Everything after I’d sprinted away from my house seemed vague. Sluggishly, I remembered Niall hugging me, asking me what had happened while he carried me to the couch. He probably didn’t understand I single word I had said, as I was sobbing relatively loudly. He remained silent after I finally choked out an explanation.

I didn’t remember seeing any of the boys after I bombarded my way into Niall’s complex. If any were around I’d imagine they’d intelligently fled the room as quickly as they could. I remember Louis and Harry parading into the room, their laughs drastically cutting off after they sensed the emotional energy in the room. I recollected that Niall had quickly ushered them away with an ‘I’ll explain later’.

I knew being in Niall’s flat was practically the worst place for me to be. I knew it would infuriate Morgan further if she’d known I’d went running to Niall after our fight. I, however, hadn’t had many options. Without a doubt, I knew Morgan knew exactly where I was. I needed to leave as soon as my manners would permit.

I sat up in the all-too-comfortable bed. The room was practically the same size and shape as my own, however mine was remarkably tidier. I recognized one of Niall’s pairs of sweatpants slung over a chair in the far corner, confirming my suspicion that this was Niall’s room. Under normal circumstances, I would have smiled at how chivalrous and welcoming he had been, but I lacked the energy now.