Punk One Direction One Shots

Liam for Isabella Pt. 5

I watched through clouded eyes as his car pulled out of the driveway. He’d be back. He always came back. I knew it was best to leave him alone when he was like this, his anger clouding his perspective, but it was different now. It was different now that we had kids. It was different when Eli saw him leave.

A gentle hand touched my shoulder, revealing a fifteen year old Eli. “Mum, you okay?” I heard the shake in his voice, he was scared, he was upset. “The girls are a sleep. Mum, this hasn’t happened before. He’s coming back right? Dad will be back, and this will all go back to normal?”

I nodded, leading him upstairs. “Dad just gets angery sometimes, he can’t controll it. He leaves so he doesn’t hurt any of us.” I told him.

Eli nodded, thinking for a second. His brown eyes were big and puppy like, his nose softly curved like his fathers. “Can I sleep with you tonight?” he asked as  he slipped under the sheets.

I laughed breathlessly before joining him, spooning my body around his. He rolled over, facing me. His lanky arms holding onto me. “Mum, has he ever hurt you?” the question was soft, almost not even vocalized.

“No, he might loose control when he’s angry, but he has enough control to leave before he ever hurt me.” I mumbled, exhausted from the fight.

There was  a moment of silence that I took advantage of before I heard two distinctive sets of foot prints enter the bedroom. “Mum?” Ella called out sleepily.

I grunted in response, they would understand surely valuing sleep themselves. “Is Dad back yet?” Emily finished. They weren’t the freaky set of twins that would alternate words of a sentence, thank God.

“No.” Eli mumbled.

“There’s a noise downstairs.” They whispered laced with panic.

“Probably just the heater.” Eli grumbled.

“No, it’s like somebody’s down there.” The twins pressed on.

“Lock the door.” I instructed, grabbing my phone from the night stand. I dialed Liam’s number, hoping it was him. There was a brief paused on the other end after he picked up. “Liam?”

“What Isabella?” he spat, he was still angry.

“You wouldn’t happen to be downstairs would you?” I asked, situating the kids on the bed.

“Why the hell would I be home yet?” he pressed.

“Okay, well, um, somebody’s downstairs. I locked the door, but somebody’s down there and the girls are scared.”

“Are you guys in our room? Lock yourselves in and I’ll be home soon.” The “ours” was always a comforting word after a fight.

“We are. Be careful, I love you.”

“I love you too, more than anything.” Liam hung up.

The kids were curled around me. Despite being teenagers they still valued a close relationship to Liam and me. We didn’t act like irrational parents, we swore in front of them, we kissed in front of them, we tried to be normal, and we didn’t see a need in being false to them.

Five minutes later I heard a familiar yell downstairs, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE NIALL?” Niall? Niall. Of course it’d be Niall. He never stayed at his own house.

“QUIT YELLING AT ME, I’M OUT OF FOOD AND YOU GUYS ALWAYS HAVE SOME. I HAVE A KEY, SORRY I DIDN’T CALL. GOD, I’LL GO NOW, NO NEED TO GET PISSY AT ME.” The Irish lad screamed back before slamming the door.

Liam’s footsteps echoed up the stairs and paused at our door. “Can I come in?” he asked hesitantly.

I nodded for Eli to open the door. Liam stepped in, a warm smiling crossing his face. “It was just Niall.”

The four of us let out puffs of laughter. “I know, we heard.” I smiled to him, motioning him our way. He slowly sauntered over, curling behind me staring at the three kids.

“I love you three, I do, but now would be a great time to go back to your respected room and leave your mother and I alone.”

Looks of disgust flashed across their faces with wide eyes. Our kids quickly turned, running out the door and across the hall. Eli had the courtesy to close the door for us, mumbling how we didn’t need to lock it, that they wouldn’t be disturbing us anytime soon.

Liam’s big brown eyes looked up at me, “Life’s good?”

Pressing my lips to his, I mumbled against his chapped skin, “Yeah, life’s really good.”