Falling Apart at the Seams

Chapter Two

*~Julia's POV~*

'Um, uh, come on in..." I stuttered. I moved out of the way to let the five boys through, and then shut the door. We all walked down to where the couch and recliner chairs were. Liam, Louis, and Niall sat on the couch, Zayn on one chair, and Harry in the other. "Would you guys like anything to eat or drink?" I asked, trying to be a good hostess. 

"Yeah, I'll have some crisps, a sandwich, a salad, some chicken if you have it, potatoes, and-" Liam cut Niall off and glared.

'No thank you, we're fine. Niall's always a bit hungry." he said, making the blond boy shrug.

As all the seats were taken, I sat cross-legged on the floor. 'So, what brings you boys to Indiana?" I asked, looking at all the boys, and my eyes stuck to Zayn, who looked like he hadn't slept or stopped crying in days. 

As I got passed the other boys, my eyes landed on Harry, who was motioning me over to him. I sent him a confused look, but he persisted. I finally got that he wanted me to sit in the chair, and I sighed, walking over and sitting on the arm of the couch, leading to a confused look from Harry.

I sent him a small smirk, and looked at the boys again, my face going motionless. I knew why they were here, I had from the beginning. I refused to cry in front of them though. I didn't want pity. Nothing was wrong with me, I was just a big wuss. I wasn't the one with cancer. It should be my sister who people want to help, not me. 

"Why come here anyways? My sister is in L.A... Zayn should be there with Zara, not here with her stupid little sister." I said the last part quietly, hoping no one had heard. But it was true. They should be there comforting her, as she was the one in trouble.

Luckily, no one heard me, which led to my giving a sigh of relief. 

The only sound came from the TV, which I soon turned off. I wasn't much of a Paula Dean fan, or her cooking. WIth the TV off, silence filled the room. We all just sat there for a while, just staring. 

"Julia, I just wanted to tell you that we are all here for you if you need someone to talk to about all this.." Liam said, breaking the silence.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, I'M NOT THE ONE WHO MIGHT FUCKING DIE! WHY DO I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT? IT'S NOT MY FUCKING PROBLEM! JUST FUCK OFF AND TAKE YOUR PRETTY LITTLE FACES TO LA TO SEE THE ONE WHO REALLY NEEDS COMFORT!" I yelled, and ran up the stairs, and slammed my door closed. I knew it was a bit harsh, but really, it's not me people should be worried about. 

For the second time that day, I just fell to the ground, and cried. I didn't want to talk about it. I was fine with dealing with it by myself, like I did with everything else. That's how I handled things, how I always had, because no one cared. I didn't like when people cared. It made me feel weak.

A soft knock on the door took me from my thoughts. 

"Go away..." I replied harshly.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a tall presence followed.

"I said go away!" I snapped, not looking up. 

The mystery person sat down next to me and a pair of strong arms pulled me into the warm presence, cradling me soothingly. That's when I full on lost it. I started sobbing into the stranger's shoulder, getting their white t-shirt wet. His smell calmed me, but I couldn't quite put a name to the smell. 

When I felt something wet on my back, I realized I hadn't been the only one crying. I looked up to see Harry. Why had he been crying? Why had he come up to comfort me? Maybe it was just so he could cry about something or another without the boys making fun of him, or telling him that it should be Zayn crying, not him. I may never know, because it didn't feel right to ask.