Spaces | Niall Horan

Four - Drunk

It's been three hours since I've left from the cemetery. Mother came home an hour ago and Niall probably went back to his house. I lay in bed with my head under the pillow and earphones in my ear, blasting music. Believe it or not, I do this very often. Sometimes I like to have some time to myself for a few hours or even a day but that doesn't happen all the time because I have a habit of having Niall around me. Sometimes I think that I'm way too obsessed with him but I always shrug it off thinking he isn't much of a saint either.

It is now dinner time so I get out of bed and wash my face, removing afternoon's make-up and then moisturizing my face, walking downstairs to see my mother arranging plates and glasses on the four seated table. I sit on the chair and wait for mother to bring the food.

"Don't you want to invite Niall over for dinner?" She asks and I raise an eyebrow. I guess I'm not the only one who is obsessed with him. I grab the ladle and pour myself the chicken cream soup into my bowl.

"I'm going over to his place later, so I might take some for him" I say, as my mother places the plate full of pasta in front of me and I smile. Anything related to pasta is my favorite. If I could have one type of food for the rest of my life, it'll be pasta with red sauce. Someone could give me a tub full of pasta and I'd happily eat it without sharing.

"When are you coming back?" She asks, sitting beside me.

"Tomorrow or maybe Sunday? I don't know" I shrug, stuffing my face with food. "I love pasta" I say, while chewing

"I know, that's why I made it" she smiles.

"You only make my favorite dishes whenever I'm sad"

"You are sad" she frowns. I bet she's thinking about father.

"I'm not" I confirm. I don't like being seen as the sad one. Even if I'm sad, I hate being told that the opposite person knows that I'm sad. It's just the way I am and this clearly angered me because I stopped eating, immediately. "I'm not hungry anymore"

Without saying another word, mother packed Niall's dinner and now I'm off to his place. Mother and I are not always in good terms. We aren't the 'mother-daughter relationship goals' and shit. We do have our rough times and do get angry at each other but you know, this is how life is. We just have to accept the fact and move on.

His house is not that far though since he lives few blocks away from me and neither does he live with his mum and dad. I know, he's way too young to be living alone but for a boy his age, he is mature enough to be taking care of himself. Well, that's what he and his elder brother were doing from the age of five, when his parents got divorced.

I've met his parents too. They're kind people, just like him. Especially his mother, Maura. She makes the best Irish stew and every once awhile, we would visit her and she would always make me the best Irish food.

I unlock the door with the spare key he gave me and walk in, closing the door behind me. I see that he's sitting on the couch, with a few beer bottles on his coffee table. I'm not even surprised that he is drinking at this time of the day. His obsession with alcohol, especially beer is like my obsession with pasta. Sums it all up, huh?

"Do you realize that I'm currently in your house?" I ask and he looks up. His eyes are bloodshot red and it looks like he's been crying. He gulps down the other half of the beer and stands up, almost tripping over his own feet. "How much have you been drinking?" He holds my arm for my support and hugs me.

"I do realize" he slurs and pulls away. There was sweat on his forehead and under his eyes. I take him by his arm and into his room, laying him down on the bed. I made him drink a glass of lime water and walk out of his room.