(Niall's POV)
It was nearly five in the morning, and I was tired out of my mind. Greg had shuffled off to bed at some point during our meal that Louis had prepared for us. It wasn't special, just some Kraft Dinner and toast. It was enough to fill me up, though.
Louis had crashed on Greg's sofa, snoring lightly as his eyes shifted back and forth beneath his lids, like he was having an action dream. I sat in one of the reclining chairs next to it, watching him curiously as I waited for Harry to return from the loo. I had told Louis there was a couple guest bedrooms upstairs, but he refused. He said he was used to sleeping on couches, which I didn't doubt. Something about his character seemed a little off, a little strange. I felt as if both Harry and Louis were holding something back, hiding something from me. Something big. This wasn't just about some random guy hunting Harry down, there was a story behind it. What had he been doing the night him and Jeff fought? What were they even fighting about?
Sitting in my brother's quiet living room was giving me a chance to really think all of this through. I knew I couldn't go back now, Jeff knew who I was. He had seen me with Harry that day in the cafe. He knew where I lived now, I couldn't go back.
I knew my house was probably trashed, a permanent reminder of that night three strange men broke in. But still, I couldn't wrap my mind around it. For some reason, I felt as if I knew one of them. I didn't get a good look, but there was a tugging in my gut, telling me that they knew more about me than just the fact I had been with Harry on one occasion.
My brain told me I should have left, let Harry go the day I met him. I shouldn't have even taken him back to my house, just dropped him off at the warehouse like he had asked.
The warehouse.
What was even in there? It had been abandoned ages ago. The metal exterior was rusting with age, the grass surrounding it longer than me almost. It hadn't had a proper maintenance job in years. So why did Harry insist on going there that night? Why did he seem so cold when I asked, so snappy about it? And, earlier tonight in the taxi, when Louis had answered that phone call, why did he call Jeff a client? What kind of work did they actually do? Who was on the other end of the phone? And why, when the same person called Harry a while later, did he not want to answer it? I felt like something bigger was going on here, something dangerous. Something that I felt like had to do with-
"Niall." My head whipped around in surprise to find Harry entering the living room again, carrying a pile of blankets in his hands. He had a smug look on his face. "Don't think too hard, you might hurt yourself."
I rolled my eyes at him and slumped back in the recliner, bringing my bottom lip in between my teeth and biting down softly. I couldn't find my thoughts anymore, they seemed lost. My head felt heavy on my neck, my eyelids even heavier. For some reason, my jumbled thoughts kept being pulled back to the three men. Why did I have such a strange feeling about this all?
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, careful fingertips rubbing a circle on my skin, calming me. "I'm going to crash on the floor," Harry's voice whispered beside my ear. "You?"
I looked up at him, moonlight shining through the living room window, casting a streak of light across his face. "You do know there's guest bedrooms, right?"
Harry looked puzzled for a minute, setting down the blankets and pillows near my feet. "Is there?" He questioned. "That's alright, I'll sleep here. You head on up, though."
"I'd feel weird making you and Louis sleep in the living room rather than in a bed," I replied, looking over to our friend who was snoring on the sofa. "Greg won't mind. He offered," I half lied.
Harry stood up straight, thinking for a moment. His hand shot up to his face, the pad of his thumb and the inside of his index finger tugging on his lower lip. I stared in awe for a moment, his face looked so defined in this light. Finally, he dropped his hand and looked to me. "I'll wake Louis up, then." Harry turned towards Louis and shook his shoulder, causing a groan to escape his mouth and his hands swatting at the air.
I stood and collected the blankets from the ground, the ones in which Harry had dropped.
Soon later, Louis was up and angry, his tired feet trudging up the stairs behind Harry and I. Once at the top, I directed Louis down the hall to one of the spare bedrooms, ushering him inside. He immediately dove into the bed, falling back asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. I closed the old wooden door and turned, finding Harry standing directly behind me. I jumped. "Jesus, Harry."
"I guess you're stuck with me," he smirked playfully, backing up a little so I could sneak past him down the hallway. He followed.
I opened the door to the second guest room, walking in. My eyelids felt even heavier as I studied the bed. Not once had a mattress looked so comfortable to me. I jumped right in. Literally.
Harry chuckled and walked to the other side of the bed, removing his shirt before peeling the duvet back, pulling it off me in the process. I turned on my side and propped my head up with my hand, studying him. His tattoos seemed more defined in the faint light, almost making him look more built. I tried my hardest not to drool, although I was pretty sure it was obvious to him that I was checking him out. Harry cocked an eyebrow at me, crawling into the bed. "I like your tattoos," I blurted, then mentally slapped myself in the face for sounding creepy.
Harry laughed quietly, bringing his only tattooed arm up and studying it, along with me. They were mostly on the inside of his bicep, his forearm the cleanest, except for the few on his wrist. Some of the ink was strange to me, but not in a bad way. A lot of them didn't make sense, but I figured there was probably a story behind it. My eyes fell from his arm down to his chest, where more tattoos were gracefully littering his skin.
"I never get a tattoo without a reasoning behind it," Harry said, looking to me. "A story behind each."
"I want to know each one's story," I whispered, reaching my hand out to touch one of the sparrows on his chest.
"There's a lot to tell," Harry chuckled. "Maybe I'll write you a novel containing each."
I just smiled, letting my palm lay flat on his chest. I hadn't realized how close we had gotten until our faces were inches apart. I could feel his warm breath on my lips, inching closer until they brushed together. I felt his tattooed arm wrap around my waist, bringing my body closer. My hand snaked from his chest to his neck, grabbing hold of a stray curl.
Just as I was about to press our lips together, I let out a loud yawn.
Harry's eyebrows knitted together as I pulled away, my face flushed. Then, he started laughing. It started off loud, but he quickly clamped a hand over his mouth to keep it from waking up Greg or Louis. I just blushed, rolling over onto my back with my arms crossed against my chest. Harry continued laughing, removing his arm from my waist to hold his own, as if laughing so much was causing him pain. I tried to keep a straight face, pressing my lips together to keep from laughing as well. But, I didn't last long. I let out a sputter, a loud laugh also escaping my lips.
"Shh," Harry said between quiet giggles. I clamped a hand over my mouth as well, laughter erupting even more once Harry almost fell out of the bed.
Sometime after the laughter had died down, I felt my eyelids getting too heavy to keep open. I let them flutter closed, my breathing evening out. My face still felt hot from blushing with embarrassment, my stomach still cramping from laughing so much. I was starting to feel uncomfortable from laying in the same position, so I turned over silently so my back was facing Harry. I heard him let out a soft, playful whimper, making me chuckle quietly. Then, a warm arm snaked itself around my stomach, pulling me back so my body was pressed against Harry's warm chest. My breathing wavered, but quickly evened out again. I felt his hand slip underneath my t-shirt, but I didn't complain. I let my eyes close as I snuggled deeper into Harry's chest, waiting for sleep to overtake me.
-----------------------------------
Sometime during the night, we had completely changed positions. When I woke in the morning, sunlight blinding me, Harry was sprawled out on his back while my head was resting on his chest. I peeled myself off of him, sitting up to get a good look at the sleeping boy beside me. His red lips were parted slightly, letting in slivers of air as his chest rose and fell softly. His curls were sprawled over the side of his face, coiling around his ear and the back of his neck in little ringlets. I stared at him for a long time, taking him in. Just by looking at him, it made my heart flutter. The things this boy had managed to do to me these past couple of days, the feelings I felt, it was so foreign. Having someone gently caress me, stick up for me and protect me, that was more than my ex boyfriend had ever done. More than he ever would have done. I felt safe around Harry, even with all of this going on. I had my doubts about him, about what he might be hiding, but I still felt as if nothing would ever hurt me as long as I was around him. And that, to me, was my selling point.
I decided to let Harry sleep for longer, I didn't feel tired anymore. I crawled out of the bed, the wood floors cold beneath my socked feet as I stood from the warmth. I straightened my clothes, only then realizing that I was still wearing the same thing as yesterday.
Entering the kitchen, I decided to make some tea. I searched Greg's cupboards but I couldn't find his kettle. I searched them all over again, then wondered to myself if he even had one.
I mentally slapped myself once I realized it was sitting on the stovetop.
The house was eerily quiet, the only sound was the bubbling of boiling water inside the kettle. I stood hunched on the counter, staring out the window that was above the kitchen sink, cup in hand. I felt strange, like there was someone staring at me through the other side of the window, but there was no one there. Just the green grass and the scattered toys across the backyard, and the swing set that swung in the morning wind.
Once the tea kettle started whistling, I poured the hot water into my mug. The smell of mint wafted through the air from my cup. I smiled to myself, anxious to try peppermint tea for the second time, courtesy of Harry.
"Make me any?" I immediately recognized the voice behind me. Rolling my eyes, I spun around to face a tired looking Greg, who sat down at the kitchen table. He gestured towards the kettle, a sarcastic look on his face. Letting out a quiet growl, I pulled another cup out of the cabinet and filled it as well, plopping a random tea bag in and bringing it over to Greg. I made sure I gave him my best annoyed look and I plopped the cup down in front of him.
"Friends still asleep?" Greg asked, taking a sip of his tea.
"Guess so," I replied bitterly. Greg's face grew dark as I sat across from him at the table.
"Listen, Niall." Greg scratched his thick beard. "I have a bad feeling about Louis and Henry-"
"Harry," I corrected.
"Harry," Greg repeated, rolling his eyes. "How much do you really know about them?"
"What are you trying to get at?" I questioned, anger boiling inside me.
"I think, after today, you better stay away from them. I don't think-"
"You don't know anything about them, Greg," I cut off. My fists clenched beneath the table.
"Neither do you," he said, narrowing his eyes at me. "I don't like the vibe they give off. It tells me that something isn't right."
I scoffed. "So, what? Just because you've got a tingling feeling in your ballsack, you're saying I shouldn't hang out with them?"
Greg groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "Niall, I'm saying that something isn't right. Something about those two boys isn't right, and I don't want you around them."
"You're not the boss of me," I said, standing up from the table.
"You're staying here, with me." Greg got up as well, standing in front of the door before I could exit.
"Don't tell me what to do," I used my free hand that wasn't holding my tea to shove at Greg, but he didn't budge.
"Niall, these guys aren't safe," Greg said, holding out his arm so I wouldn't pass. "I don't trust them."
I rolled my eyes, trying to push past him again. "You say that about everyone."
"I'm always right!" I stopped dead in my tracks. "I'm always right about people I don't trust, Niall. You know it, too."
"That's not tr-"
"Yes it is! What did I tell you about the last guy you were with?" Greg set his arm down. I didn't reply. "What did I tell you?"
"That he was bad news," I muttered, staring at the ground.
"And was I right?" Greg crossed his arms over his chest. I felt his eyes boring into me. "Was I?"
"Yes," I said lowly, letting out a sigh.
"What about the time before? Was I right?" Greg pushed on.
"I get it," I said, looking up at his deep blue eyes. He studied me with them, searching my face, scanning it as if I was a book.
"Stay away from those two. They're bad news, Niall." A part of me believed him. A part of me knew that my brother was right, something was indeed off about Harry and Louis. But I fought against it.
"You're wrong this time, Greg," I said, stepping forward. "I know what I'm doing. I don't need you to protect me anymore." I pushed past him and entered the living room.
"You know better than this, Niall. You know I'm right," Greg called after me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, anger bellowing deep inside me. A strange, familiar feeling crept up into my throat, and I knew nothing good was about to come out. Without thinking, I threw my cup to the ground. It smashed at my feet, boiling liquid splashing my pant leg. My eyes shot open, and I turned to Greg, stomping up to him until my chest was almost against his. "Shut up, Greg! Shut up! You don't know anything! Let me live my fucking life! I don't need you to take care of me anymore! I'm almost twenty-one, stay out of my god damn life!"
My breathing was out of control, my face was beat red. Greg's eyes widened, he backed up a little. Realizing that I had just yelled at my brother, I felt guilt. My face softened, my finger that was jabbed out towards him in disgust was lowered. I swallowed. What did I just do?
Greg held his hands up in surrender. "What is wrong with you?"
"What?" I questioned, my voice faltering. "Nothing, I-"
A deep voice sounded from behind me. "What the hell is going on?" I turned to find Harry and Louis standing near the shattered tea mug. My heart pounded. I looked from them to my brother, who was cowering inside the kitchen, like I was holding him at gunpoint.
"Niall?" Harry asked again, stepping forward.
"Let's go," I muttered, turning away from Greg. I pushed past Harry and Louis, heading for the door. I looked back to see Louis following, but Harry was still standing at the broken glass with a confused look. "Harry," I said sternly. "Let's go."
Harry looked back to Greg, then to me. He face was puzzled, as if he was trying to figure out what happened. Finally, he kept his eyes on me. "Did he hurt you?" Harry asked, pointing to Greg.
I shook my head. "Let's just go, Harry. Forget it."
"Did he hurt you?" Harry repeated, louder this time. "Did he?"
"No!" I stomped back to Harry, accidentally shoving Louis in the process. I grabbed his hand, yanking him to the door. "Let's go!"
Harry didn't pull back, he let me lead him towards the door. "Niall," he tried, but I squeezed his hand, warning him to shut up. We all pulled on our shoes, Greg emerging from the kitchen to look at us glumly. I gave him a warning look not to say anything.
But he didn't listen. "I'm calling him," Greg said. I knew exactly who he was talking about. "I'm calling him, and you have to go this time."
"Don't you dare," I said, standing up straight after putting on my Supras.
"Who is he talking about?" Harry asked, stepping towards Greg with an angry look. But I caught his arm.
"You'll be forced to go, this time." Greg stepped towards me, and Harry stepped in between us.
"Let's go," I ignored Greg's look of fake sympathy.
"You're not well, Niall." Harry walked forward and shoved Greg back, ripping free of my grip.
"Harry!" I exclaimed. "Let's go!"
Greg opened his mouth to speak again, but Harry shoved him backwards. "Don't speak to Niall."
I looked to Louis with panic in my eyes, and he understood. He quickly opened the door and pushed me out onto the patio. The door slammed shut behind me, and I listened to the deadly silence as I waited for Louis and Harry to join me. I was afraid if what they might be doing, they weren't hurting Greg were they? Then again, he kind of deserved it..
Dammit Niall, shut up.
Finally, after what seemed like ages, the front door banged open. Louis was behind Harry, dragging him out by the waist. Harry was yelling and screaming, thrashing his hands as Greg stood inside the door with a sullen expression. He caught my eye, and, without Harry or Louis noticing, smiled at me.