CHAPTER 22
CLAIRE
His lips surround mine, laced with the overwhelming feeling of desperation. His hand pressed tightly against my waist, his other holding my neck intensely. I soon taste the burning alcohol stained on his tongue, and I push him away.
"What the hell!" I say, my hand on his chest, holding him at distance. He stares into me with bold eyes, with no regret in them.
"I love you," he breathes heavily, almost out of breath.
I feel my every muscle stiffen as the three words come out of his mouth. The sound absorbs into my chest and every molecule of oxygen leaves my lungs.
"You what?" My dried throat wheezes, and his frantic body moves in to kiss me again.
"Niall!" I stop, backing away from him. He runs his fingers through his hair, brushing down the strand that were pointing in every direction.
"I love you! Ah and I know I'm being selfish, but I have to tell you! You have to know, I love you." He desperately cites, taking my hand. He brings me closer, and I'm too distraught to even think of resisting.
"How--I mean... When, or... wh-" My words tangle as they fumble out of my mouth, and I feel my heart rise to my throat. What the hell is going on?
"There is so much you don't know about what happened in California, Claire... I spent so much time trying to convince myself that I had moved on, but I couldn't!" He stresses heavily, clenching his hand tightly around mine. I catch my breath, sharply inhaling as I feel myself get dizzy.
"Were we...?" I ask, millions of thoughts swirling in my mind. His eyes widen and a strained smile appears on him, pressing my hand to his chest.
"Yes, we were! Harry hurt you so much Claire, you don't even know. Ah! I just couldn't stand the thought of you and him on a date tonight, I needed to tell you." Niall's eyes boil with contemplation, his body quivering, seemingly from the alcohol. My heart sits in my throat, and I'm worried about how I'm reacting.
I feel my pulse race by his eyes looking into mine, and I forget to take a breath as I get lost in them.
I feel my head shake before I realize I'm doing it, taken aback by his words.
"No," I mutter, stepping back.
"Clair-"
"No!" I shout, pushing his hands away.
His eyes weaken and a cold shiver runs through my body as I step further back.
"I have to go," I say and turn away. I don't hear another sound from him as I walk away, getting into the elevator again. I press the the button to take me up to the flat again, and the doors slide shut as I give him a final glance. He stands unsteadily, with a slight slouch in his back as his bloodshot eyes close, pressing out another tear. I don't know if I'm angry, or scared of the feelings that arose from that kiss.
As I stand alone in the elevator, I'm left wondering; what the hell happened in California?
I run my hands through my hair and I try to process what just happened. Niall loves me, Harry loves me... Apparently I whored around big time in LA.
I've never felt this strong urge to remember before. I just want to bang my head against the wall and hope for it all to come back, but like the doctor said, it's a close to zero chance. I just... don't feel like myself.
The elevator opens again and the ding makes Harry get up from the couch. He shifts, his brows furrowing when he sees me.
"W- where did you go?" He stutters, moving around the couch while keeping his eyes on me. I feel like a bucket of cold water pours onto me as I see his worried eyes. He gets up to me, stroking my upper arms.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asks and his voice makes my every bone crumble to the floor. I feel all the air escape my lungs as I fall to the cold tiles. I paralyze completely, tears falling out of my eyes like a water fall. W- What is happening?
"Claire!" Harry shouts, his hand jerking forward. It lands on the side of my head to prevent it hitting the ground, all my muscles simultaneously failing. I struggle for my vision to focus on his face and his green eyes are the only thing I see with clarity.
"Talk to me!" I hear his faint voice shout, his palm trembling under my head. I try to speak, but muffled words fall out of me, as I desperately reach for him.
Next thing I know I'm laying in a hospital bed, slowly opening my eyes.
•
"Remember I told you about the side effects?" The doctor - the same doctor who was with me when I woke up after getting abducted - asks. I nod, and I see Harry sitting on a red cushioned chair in the corner of the room. His eyes shift between me and the doctor, as I curl my toes.
"Yes." I moan, my eyes squinting nearly shut from the bright light.
"You just experienced one of them, an episode of severe emotional distress," he says, walking over to the side of the bed. He sighs, his brows frowning.
"But there must have been something that triggered it," he says, pointing a finger in the air. I hear Harry gasp and I look over. His eyes widen, with a harsh hint of guilt in his eyes.
"I'm so sorry, Claire. I knew I shouldn't have pressured you," his voice fails, referring to what happened in the elevator. He asked if he could kiss me. But...
"That's not why," I breathe, swallowing a thick lump in my throat. I look into Harry's eyes as they grow confused, my body getting chills when I remember it.
"Niall... he kissed me," I say, and look up at the ceiling. I don't dare to see Harry's reaction, so I wait for his words to reveal. He's probably gonna be furious. I would too, if someone had kissed the person I was in love with. A silence appears, but the sound of a door opening and closing breaks it after a few seconds.
I look up, and Harry isn't there anymore.
•
•
HARRY
My blood is boiling. I don't think I've ever been this angry.
My lips twitch along with my palms, and I push the door open to get to the parking lot. I find the car, opening the driver's seat.
"Claire will be out any minute, take her home." I say, and close it. I walk quickly to the side of the road, whistling for a cab. One of the many stop and I get in, my hand furiously texting Niall.
*What hotel are you staying at? What room?*
I don't expect him to answer, but I will find him somehow. And when I do... I don't even know what I'll do. My phone surprisingly beeps, a text from Niall appearing across the screen.
*The Empire, room 802*
I tell the cab driver to change directions, as I stare at the screen. My chest aches with pain when I think of what he did. He kissed her. He actually touched her, adding to her confusion. She loses her memories of me and sees that as a second chance? Scum.
When he rolls up to the building, I throw some dollar bills in front of me and get to the entrance. I breathe heavily as I make my way to the elevator, my hands curling up into fists as I struggle to keep my thoughts sane.
Next thing I know I'm right in front of his door, my eyes locked at the number on the door, 802.
I bang on the door, my fingers shaking as blood rushes to my head. The wooden door almost dents before Niall opens, eyeing me.
"What the fuck do you want?" he growls, tipping me over the edge. I grab ahold of his throat, pushing him against the mirror behind him, which shatters by the impact.
His eyes widen as he struggles to see into mine, but he doesn't fight back. I push him sideways down onto the floor, and his breath hitches as his body knocks to the floor.
"You fucking kissed her?!" I shout, crouching down and grabbing his shirt, lifting his upper body. His face remains expressionless, except for his eyes, filled with contempt.
"Yeah mate, I kissed her," he wheezes as a small drop of blood pebbles down from a cut on his cheek. His voice trembling as he pats my fist with his palm, aggravating me further. Somehow, I manage to lift him up with one motion, and pin him against the wall.
"What, are you gonna hit me? Do it!" He shouts, his body quickening under my grip.
"Hit me!" He says again, and for what possible reason, I freeze. He breathes heavily and quickly, the blood reaching his shirt.
"Hit me, Harry! But I will still love her," he utters with a strangled voice.
"She loves me!" I shout, glaring into his sore eyes. He releases a heavy laugh, spitting blood out of his mouth.
"No she doesn't."
"The real Claire!" I growl, my hands clenched tightly around the the neck of his shirt.
"She is gone, Harry! Do you really think she will remember it all? She was lucky enough to survive, and you think she'll remember you and you will live happily ever after? Wake the fuck up Harry, she is gone!" His words stab into my chest as I register them, as his sharp voice rings in my ears.
"Shut up, Niall!" I realize the harrowing probability of his words and they are enough to suffocate me.
"She will hate you if you try to shut me out of her life, and you know it," his calm whisper makes me loosen my grip, looking away from his eyes.
"I'm going to fight, and you can't do anything about it. Forget California, forget it all! It's all irrelevant now." His shoulders lift as I tighten the grip again, his breaths heavy. He's right. He's telling the truth. Claire will probably never remember what she has lost.
That doesn't mean that her and I won't be together.
But here is this asshole who is trying to ruin our chances. I could just... Ugh, I could just kill him. But I figure a few hours of unconsciousness will do, so I swing my elbow across his face, knocking him flat onto the ground. I walk over the shattered glass, heading home. To Claire.
•
•
CLAIRE
"Ugh, and then he just left." I finish the story, as Michael holds his pillow tightly. A disappointed look appears on his face, and he lowers the pillow.
"Really bitch? I got all worked up for that shit ending?" he nags, throwing his pillow at me.
"What? That's what happened!" I exhale in frustration, as he sits back in the bed.
"So where did he go?" Michael asks, his brows furrowing. At first, I thought he went home. I thought he was so mad at me that he left. I was driven home by his driver, Paul, but the whole time I was worried about how he was feeling. I just don't want him to be mad at me.
"I don't kn-" I start before I hear the ding of the elevator. Both Michael and I's eyes widen at each other and I jump out of the bed, hurrying to the living room. Harry walks over to the sink before I can get a good look of him, so I idly step closer.
"Harry, are you ok-"
"I'm fine." His voice speaks coolly, sending small chills down my spine.
"Harry, I'm sorry if-"
"What?" He turns around, and I see the cut on his lip and cheek. He walks over to me, and grabs a hold of my whole body, lifting it up to the counter.
"Don't ever say that, ok? Don't you ever say that to me again." He says, looking me deep in the eye. I nod slowly, and he kisses me. He breathes heavily over my mouth, forcing himself to look away as I hear his heart beat faster.
"What happened?" I ask, carefully placing a finger under the cut on his cheek. I grab a cloth and run it under hot water as I still sit on the counter, and I start to wash the blood away. His eyes flinch as I reach the cut, cleaning it gently.
"Nothing," he mutters, causing me to scoff. But I don't think he wants to tell me. And quite frankly, I don't think I want to know.
"Are you alright? I'm so sorry I left you at the hospital," his voice exhales, shaking his head as if he's disappointed in himself. But I'm just trying to understand. To see his side of things. I'm trying to imagine how it would be like to lose the love of your life, and how I would react.
"Yes, I'm feeling better, the doctor prescribed some medication for me," I say, holding onto the edges of the counter.
"Good. I'll have Paul pick them up." He says, his hand moving from my knee further up. I stare down on his hands, his rings cold against my skin. I flinch when his hands move to my waist, and he removes them when he sees my face.
"I'm so- God, I'm sorry," he apologizes, and I offer a gentle smile. But again, I'm seeing things from his side. It would come natural to touch your girlfriend of 4 months in that way, but I have known him for 3 days. He is just learning how to stop himself. And the fact that he's so intent on doing so once I feel uncomfortable, is great.
"Do you want to do something tonight?" He asks, backing away a couple of inches, his hands going behind his back. I take a second to think before realizing how tired I really am.
"I'd just really like some pizza and a stupid comedy on Netflix," I exhale, and he smiles, nodding.
•
"Don't be ridiculous, you're watching with us!" I say, grabbing Michael's hand, trying to drag him out of bed.
"Nah bitch, I ain't no third wheel. And besides, I have a lot of nudes to send, so you two go ahead," he says, looking down on his phone.
"I ordered pizza," I tempt him, and he looks up at me, squinting his eyes. He rolls his eyes and gets out of bed.
"Yay! Okay, get the plates and the soda, I'll prepare the movie!" I cheer and he stretches out, moaning tiredly.
"Why are you so happy? It's annoying..." he complains, walking out of the room with me.
Harry sits in the couch, with a striped pair of pajama pants and a light grey t shirt. He smiles brightly, and I notice that his cut is healing well. I sit down with an appropriate space between us, and turn on the TV. It goes to the news network and just as I'm about to change to Netflix, the reception calls the apartment phone.
Michael answers it and smiles widely with a small giggle. He mutters something and hangs up.
"Pizza's here!" he says, and walks over to us with the plates. The elevator dings from down the hall, so I get up and grab some dollar bills out from my pocket.
The pizza man stands with two pizzas stacked on top of each other in his hands, and a nice smile on his sculpted face. I give him the money, and he shoves it in his pocket. He hands me the pizzas, and tips his hat as he looks right at me.
"Thank you very much, miss."
"You're welcome, have a nice evening!"
I get back to the living room and sit down with Harry and Michael, whom almost pants like a dog when I open the pizza boxes.
I jump slightly when I see a picture of the pizza man on the screen, a news reporter talking seriously into the camera beside.
"Oh my god, that's the pizza man, he was just here!" I laugh, pointing at the picture.
A silence like I've never experienced before emits across the whole apartment and I feel the sudden tension into my very core. I look over at Michael and Harry, their faces full of distress. Harry's face darkens and Michael stutters for a bit before he can make out the sentence;
"Claire, t- that's Zayn Malik. The man who abducted you."
A/N
Heyy how did you like this long ass chapter??
See you in the next one xx