Love Makes You Complete // L.S (short story)

Part 3.

I hadn't realised I had dozed off until I heard a panicked pounding on my door. I sit up and check the time on my wristwatch. Its 11pm and I'm certain that I'm not expecting anyone. Daylight had long since evaporated and my apartment was now flooded with a desolate darkness.

The pounding continues and as I near my door I hear muffled screams. My heart rate picks up and I become concerned that my heart with leap right out of my chest and onto the sterile tiles beneath me if I don't find the perpetrator soon.

Slowly, I open the door grabbing the closest object to act as a shield, which unfortunately happens to be an ornamental pot of artificial roses.

I silently curse under my breath, unlocking the latch on the door that stands between me and whatever creature was capable of making such a racket. I hold the doorknob with such force I can visibly see my knuckles turning white, grasping onto it as though it was a lifeline.

Fearfully I turned the knob watching as a dull light floods into the front room, almost eerily, followed by a moment of silence. Everything went still, frozen in time, all the inanimate objects waiting apprehensively for what was to come. "BANG", the door was slammed almost knocking it off its fragile hinges, disturbing my once tranquil pod.

The intruder, scampers in hurriedly shutting the door behind them, leaning back on it as short, uneven breaths escape their mouth, like the rhythm to an upbeat tune.

As they remove their tattered hood, it is revealed that this is no menacing intruder but a young man. Curly brown locks hang down to about his shoulders. His youthful complexion and flushed cheeks suggests he's about 20 but the crinkles by his eyes and the light stubble that coats his chin, leads me to assume that he's much more mature than he seems.

His eyes are a vibrant, forest green that seem to be staring to right into my soul. His height slightly bruises my ego, being nearly half a foot taller than me, yet when I look up at the lanky limbed man, a light blush coats my cheeks.

It's only then that I notice the tiny hand clutching onto his sleeve for dear life. I stare in disbelief as a small child appears from behind him. Mousy brown hair sitting scruffily atop his head, sticking out in multiple directions. He seems unusually pale with tear stained cherub cheeks.

"Leave", is the only thing I find myself capable of saying.

The taller man shakes his head walking straight past me and into the kitchen. The trail of mud that paints the floor eating away at any respect and civility I had for these fugitives.

I scurry after them as he turns to give me a crooked, forced smile, his hand ready for me to shake, which of course I slap away, just like I ought to do with the both of them.

"I'm Harry and this is my son, Niall", he says nonchalantly, ignoring the fact that he's just broken into my apartment.

"Look, Nialls been awfully sick the past week, waking up with heat practically radiating off him and a gravely cough. I just don't know what to do and we, um" he pauses taking a hesitant breath taking no notice of my conspicuous scowl, "we've used up all the water from our delivery last week, we're not going to last another 3 weeks!"

I'm shocked to say the least, as my mouth hangs agape.

"There's nothing I can do about it, I've only got enough water for one person, let alone three", I whisper yell, well aware of their pleading expressions and hopes that I've probably crushed to smithereens.

A/n : Harry's here!

Comment if you've listened to Taylor's new album Midnights