Stole My Heart- 1D Fanfic

Chapter 23

Harry’s POV

What was I supposed to do? I was just one boy, and not a large one at that. I couldn’t fix this, no matter how much I wanted to. And not just for Liam and Georgia, but for all of us. Because if Michael knew he could control us so easily, who knew what he would try to make us do next? I didn't know what to do. I probably couldn’t even fix this if all the boys knew. But I knew I couldn’t tell Louis, he was too protective of Georgia and was bound to do something stupid and rash. Zayn, always worrying about Liam, was the same. And both of them had tempers on them. Come to think of it, I never wanted to see Zayn and Louis in a real fight... No, no, Harry focus. 

I knew that I had to tell someone, I couldn't hold this all by myself, and since Niall was the least likely to fly off the handle and kill somebody, I chose him. Also because out of everyone, Niall would know where to hide a body. Random bits of information like that seemed to pour out of him. And even telling Niall was a risk, because when we got back to his flat, our rendez-vous point until we could figure out what to tell Louis, Liam, and Zayn, I’d never seen his ears redder, happy Irishman attitude gone. Which was a shame, because it suited him. 

Georgia fell onto the couch, gratefully accepting the blanket Paul held out for her. I hadn’t thought to be thankful for the big guy in awhile, but today the thought stung me like a bee. What would we do without him? I was glad he wasn't evil. At least, I was pretty sure he wasn't.  

“Paul, thanks.” I said trying to put all my gratefulness into those two words; “I know it was a lot to ask, to drop everything and come.” He patted me on the back, and I’m sure it was affecting him, seeing Niall and I, the two least worrying lads, in such a fix over this.

“Harry. You five are like my sons, and I love that girl in there,” He gestured to the living room where Georgia had made a blanket burrito out of herself *note to self: ask her how she does it so perfectly when it is emotionally correct to do so*; “like she is my own. This here is nothing to ask. I would do so much more.” Yep, definitely unevil. That was a load off of my shoulders. I nodded to him, emotional, which wasn’t strange for me but still a bit embarrassing, and told Paul to go home. He needed to be with his family, and we still had loads to hash out, between the three of us. Which was a shame because I was really craving pie. 

Niall and I walked with Paul out into the hallway, with Paul still hoping to give us the perfect idea for how to fix this, speaking until the elevator doors slid closed. After that, the hallway was laced with expectant silence, and I was nervous to look at Niall. I didn’t want him to hit me, or worse, sing to put his feelings into words. It seems stupid, but that's Niall for ya. 

“Harreh. Wha’ are we goin ta do?” There was the distinct Irish-ness. The type that left no doubt of Niall’s motherland. It always came out when he was angry, anxious, or excited. And I think I knew which of the three he was today. I spun around, quite distressed about the whole thing, unable to concentrate because my mind was filled with thoughts of pie. 

“I dunno, Niall. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.” I huffed. I was exasperated, which was my least favorite emotion, no matter how much fun it was to say. 

“A long time?!?” His eyebrows shot into the mop of blond falling onto his forehead. Damn. I forgot. There’s always back story to be told. Especially with evil people who do not appear evil in their own right. Sighs.