lover - leah williamson

the reason to never love

november 3rd, "21
castlefield, manchester

It was early. Very early. Niamh knew that as soon as her weary eyelids fluttered open hazily, and how she noticed the moon, loomed large and emitting a yellowy, white glow that shone through her blinds. Confusion ran through her mind as to why she had woken up, yet she soon had her answer when she heard her drunk of a boyfriend stumbling carelessly around the apartment. Niamh checked her phone that lay silently on her bedside drawers. The clock read 04:36am. A roll of her eyes in annoyance followed, as she sighed and moved her aching limbs to get herself up and out of her bed.

She muttered a quiet "You've got to be kidding me" to herself, as she moved toward the cause of her awakening. As her hand went to touch the doorknob, the large slab of oak, in which she was just previously about to open, swung at her with such a force, Niamh was nearly knocked off her feet. She stumbled back, almost falling onto her back in the process, but managed to steady herself on a cabinet of drawers that now stood beside her small frame.

"S-sorry Niamh, baby. D-d-didn't mean to h-hurt you" The brunette slurred, attempting to find some sort of sobriety in his inebriated state.

"What time do you call this, Matt? Again." Niamh whispered, trying to tame her anger that was beginning to bubble inside her.

Matthew turned to look at the clock that perched upon the drawers stood adjacent to Niamh, only to realise he was so intoxicated, he could not make out the digital numbers that were displayed on the clock.

"I'd t-tell you Niamh, but erm, I-I-I can't r-read the, um, the, um, what's it called?"

"The clock?" She huffed in annoyance as Matty simply nodded smugly at Niamh.

"That's the one." He said, trying to make his way over to the bed, tripping over the clothes that lay on the floor beneath him.

"Move your stuff, for fuck's sake Niamh. Why you got to be so fucking messy?" The tall, brunnette spoke lowly, still slightly slurring, as Niamh noticed a shift in his demeanour quite quickly.

"I'll move my bloody stuff when you stop going out every night, and start coming in at a decent time. And not waking me in the process." The blonde spoke, mirroring her boyfriend's tone, observing his features as she attempted to keep him calm.

He ignored her, scoffing arrogantly as he removed his alcohol-stained, white shirt and dirty jeans and looked Niamh's face; now unveiling her sparked rage.

"Someone's moody" He chuckled. "Just because you're paranoid that I'm off with fitter birds than you in places you don't even know exist."

"Matthew, I am definitely not worried about your whereabouts. And I am certainly not paranoid about the women you're out with." She fired, mocking his tone.

"Should be." He stated.

"Should be what?" Niamh replied quickly.

Silence hung between them both until Niamh spoke again,
"Go on. Tell me what I should be so effing worried about Matt?!"

Matthew said nothing but just laughed hubristically in Niamh's face and went to move her hair behind her ears, until a tanned hand stopped him from doing so. "Oh Niamh, if only you knew."