Cult

23: Possession Ω

Niall takes my hand and leads me toward the main living room. "Come to the kitchen, I'll make you a double chocolate shake, get your mind off Harry," he offers. I smile at him and intertwine my fingers with his. He glances at my lips momentarily, then blushes and looks away.

I sit on the high stool, watching Niall prepare the milkshake. He adds every possible fattening item into the shake: double churned ice cream, chocolate sauce, Hershey kisses, and the list goes on.

"You gotta get your calcium," he reasons. He shrugs his shoulders and his blonde hairs stick out from around the nape of his neck. Niall isn't as tall as Harry, but he has a nice, toned body. His shoulders are broad and his skin has a sun kissed glow.

"That looks like liquid diabetes," I joke, watching him pour spoonfuls of sugar.

Niall laughs and pours the shake into a cup for me and and for himself. There's no one else in the kitchen, they are all either in the gym, in their rooms, or fucking. They just keep screwing each other over and over. Liam's probably with Leah and Tara at the same time. They're both super petite and thin. But Tara has caramel skin and thick curly black hair while Leah is blonde and has these large, delicate brown eyes. 

I take a sip form my milkshake and my throat tightens. It tastes like liquid Heaven: creamy and sweet.

"Niall, this is delicious," I say.

He smiles, watching me drink some more. He shakes a can of whip cream and sprays it on my shake.

"More cream?" I laugh. He nods.

"I'm trying to fatten you up," he jokes. His eyes wander down briefly to my body.

I look down at my legs. I'm wearing the sweats and T shirt that Harry gave. The sweats are loose and the shirt hangs on my shoulders. I recall the shirt Harry was wearing when we first met: it was white and thin and Harry left the first few buttons open. I shift in my seat. I'm wearing Harry's shirt. I want to rip it off, but Niall's sitting with me. 

"What's wrong?" he speaks up.

"Why is Harry such a confusing asshole?"

Niall throws his head back in heavy laughter.

"I'm serious, I don't understand him. He acts as though he likes me, he compliments me when I least expect it, but then he lashes out randomly."

Niall watches my face. It almost seems like he's not listening, like he staring at something wrong in my face.

I rub at my lower lip and cheek, unsure if I have some cream left. "Harry is a lucky bastard," he murmurs under his breath.

Niall breaks his gaze from my face and clears his throat. 

"What?" I lean closer.

It didn't seem like Niall meant to say that aloud. 

"He gets to be with you."

I laugh quietly to myself. Being with me isn't an accomplishment.

Niall clears his throat. "Did he hurt you when he first took your...your um," Niall blushes.

I cross my legs.

"Oh no, no, he hasn't taken it," I shake my head quickly. I'm beyond glad that I didn't give myself to Harry. But even if I hadn't, would he have forced it out of me? No, he would never do that.

Niall seems to relax and smirk slightly when I admit this. Then his shoulders tighten as he looks at my eyes.

"Wow. He must really, really like you to have saved you for the right moment," he says. His voice trails off.