asthma attacks - niall centric

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Prompt:  niall’s been hiding his asthma forever so the prompt is,whats going on niall’s mind when he had to use his inhaler infront of the fans at the airport (maybe he refused it at first) bonus for the boys worrying about him”


  The boys and I were in an airport today. We just landed from London (we took a break) to Australia, which is here. We were all very excited for tonight’s concert presumably because Australia is one of our favourite countries, and tonight will be a blast.


   Alright. I didn’t actually dislike my career or my mates. All that I hated was the touring part. It was tough for me to go all around the world with a hidden inhaler with me. I have asthma, you see, and I was very afraid to tell the boys about it. So, in order to hide my asthmatic problem, I hide the thing from everything.

   And besides, if I didn’t bring my inhaler, I would probably dead by now. The lads and I were very exhausted after all. We were glad that we made people happy from our singing and little goofing however, those results to weariness that we could barely explain. We only get an hour of sleep the most and they’re dreamless.

It was kind of funny. The boys and I were together ever since the X-Factor and yet they still didn’t have a clue that I have asthma. It was either they’re too oblivious to notice or I was just a great actor.

   I think I could audition for soap operas now. Huh. But now that I thought of it, if I were in a show, would be watch?

   “Hey, Niall.”

  I looked up and saw Zayn staring at me, face just a few inches away. His eyes were glowing and they’re filled with curiosity. Out of all of us five, Zayn was the most silent and observant. Sometimes, he figures things just by looking at it. He was pretty much a preternatural observer compared to us and just seeing his face made me fidget from anxiousness.

 “What?” I shot a small smile to him and he took a step closer to me. “Wait, what the hell, Zee?”

Before I knew it, Zayn was rubbing my back, face focusing on another direction. His expression wasn’t easy to read because he wasn’t smiling or frowning. His mouth was flattened and his eyes were showing coldness to some paparazzi that we could actually see now from the glass windows around the airport.

They were mad. Large cameras were protectively held by them and the centres were focused on us. Behind them were the people—or the fans—and the closer we get to the gates, the louder we could hear their screams.

Suddenly, I felt something weird inside of me. It was like one of those days when I could hardly breathe. My lungs felt like they were closing. They were like refusing to help me breathe. The more I tried to grasp, the lesser I get air. My chest was heavy, and I wanted to hide and grab my inhaler now for I felt like a fish wishing for air instead of water.

This was an asthma attack.

Something was suffocating me and I couldn’t move a muscle. I coughed to get people’s attention and Zayn and Louis turned to me with arched brows. “Niall?” Louis asked. He was beside Liam, who was busy talking to Harry. “Niall, you’re sweating and we’re in an air-conditioned airport!”

I know. Louis overreacts a lot.

A few guards started to whip their heads to my direction and I quickly remembered. I took their attention. Why did I take their attentions when I was trying my best to hide? 

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