Lessons Learned

Part 9

I could see the battle taking place in Niall's blue eyes. He wanted to protest, to tell me I was wrong. I could see it written plain as day across his face. But doing that would contradict what he had been trying to tell me earlier about how beautiful I was.

"Thanks," he finally mumbled and removed his hands from his mouth.

He was right, he did have a fat lip. There was a little bit of blood dripping from his lower lip to his chin and I reached over and wiped it away with the sleeve of my sweater. Niall caught my hand as I pulled it away, staring down at the red stain on the cream colored wool. "I'm sorry for ruining your jumper," he licked his finger and tried to rub away the blood to no avail.

"It's all right," I pulled away and tucked my hands up into the long sleeves. It felt weird having somebody touch me. No one ever touched me.

Niall shoved his hands in his pockets, looking around the yard uncomfortably. The sun was beginning to brush the trees that lined the yard, "It's getting late, we should head in." I followed Niall back into the house. "What do you want for dinner?"

I had no idea why he asked me that. He knew I didn't eat. "I'm not hungry."

"Pasta is okay then?" Niall bustled around the large kitchen, pulling out pots and pans.

I just nodded, watching as he struggled to carry a large pot of water across the room. He put it on the stove, turning on the burner and dumping a load of salt into the water. "That way the pasta doesn't stick," he beamed at me. "Did you know that?"

I just laughed. I didn't want to ruin his childlike excitement by admitting I did know that fact. I perched myself on the edge of the counter, watching Niall as he leaned over the pot of water, waiting for it to boil.

"A watched pot never boils," I knocked my heels against the wooden cabinets, beating out a rhythm with my boots.

"You're right," Niall stepped back, cocking his head as he listened to the thump of my feet. "Keep doing that."

I nodded and continued to kick as he picked up a large wooden spoon and a pan. He ran over and handed them to me, then grabbed a jar filled half way with pasta. He shook the jar and start tapping the counter with a whisk. He nodded at me to bang the pan and I did, pounding out the beat. Once we got a good beat going Niall started to sing.

He made up the lyrics as he went along, singing about me coming to the limbo, about our tour of the house, about me giving him a fat lip, and about the pasta he was making. He could have been singing the phone book and I wouldn't have cared, his voice was absolutely flawless. He was so caught up in the made up song and I was so caught up in him that neither of us noticed the pasta water begin to boil over.

Niall put down his 'musical instruments' and gestured for me to do the same. Once I did he grabbed my hands and pulled me off the counter. He was humming now instead of singing but it was still a glorious sound. He began to spin me around the room, twisting and turning us across the kitchen floor.

As we moved past the stove I lost my footing on a puddle cause by the overflowing pot. I fell down, pulling Niall down with me. He put his arms out to brace his fall and prevent himself from collapsing right on top of me, but his hand slipped on the water. He tumbled onto me, our noses banging as he fell.

"Ouch," I muttered, pushing him off and struggling to my feet. I was having a hard time standing since the floor was slippery, so I grabbed the counter to pull myself up. I accidently touched the side of the metal pot and my hand began to flame with agony. "Ow!"

Niall jumped up and shut off the water before grabbing my hand and turning it over. The skin was bright red and looked like it was going to blister.

"Come on," he dragged me across the room and shoved it under the cold water faucet as I whimpered. It really hurt.

"Zayn said there weren't injuries here," I wiped discretely at a few tears that had been shed due to the extreme pain. "So how can I get hurt?"

"I got hurt earlier," Niall pointed out as he held my hand under the steady stream of water. "You don't have any injuries that you came in with is what Zayn meant. If you died by shooting yourself in the head we wouldn't want people walking around with half their skulls missing. You can get physically hurt here, as long as it's not self-harm. You can't cut or anything."

"Oh," I tried to pull my hand away but Niall wouldn't let me.

"Keep it there," he instructed before letting go and running out of the room. I did as he said, studying the red mark breaking my palm. Being burned was more painful than cutting, but it still felt good now that the initial shock was over.

"Back," Niall returned breathlessly, holding up a first aid kit. "I'm going to fix you now." He took hold of my wrist and pulled my hand out from under the faucet and placed it face up on the counter. I stood there awkwardly as he tenderly dried it with a dish towel before applying a huge dollop of some sort of cream to the wound. He rubbed it in gently then wrapped it up in a bandage. "All better."

"Thanks." I took my hand back and let it hang limply at my side. I wasn't sure what to say. No one had ever helped me clean up an injury before. They usually just turned a blind eye and pretended they didn't see anything.

"Not a problem," Niall smiled. This time he opened his mouth to do it and I saw his 'ugly' teeth for the first time. I thought they were absolutely adorable. For some reason I felt the overwhelming urge to tell him this.

"Your teeth are cute," I blushed. "Not ugly."

"Thanks," he gave me another smile. He had the most breathtaking smile I had ever seen, even though his bottom lip was fat and puffy. I knew I was bright red so I turned away and began to leave the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" he called after me.

I had no idea where I was going so I said the first thing that popped into my head, "To bed."

"Oh," I could hear an edge of sadness on his voice. "I thought we could do a movie night or something but I guess you're tired. You remember where your room is?"

"Yeah, good night."

"Night," he said sweetly.

I hurried out of the kitchen and ran up the stairs, skidding down the hallway and pushing into my bedroom. I locked the door behind me before stripping off my stained sweater and my shorts. I threw them on the floor and buried myself in the covers of the large queen sized bed.

It was the first time since I had been thrown into the limbo that I actually had time to think. That first night with Zayn I had been too confused and angry to think. Now I had the opportunity to analyze my situation, yet I couldn't get Niall's sapphire eyes out of my mind.

I had no idea what the boy was doing to me, but I knew I never wanted it to end.