⁠☞ narry one-shots

✎ ccswdh : session 3

When I saw Niall plunge that pocket knife right into his shoulder, my heart dropped right into my stomach.

A sick twisted shock exploded within me as the room froze into a deadbeat silence.

Ashton started hyperventilating at an extreme pace but Luke was oblivious to his husband's struggles - a first I had seen in a very long time.

He just stared at my own husband with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.

My gaze flitted back to the empty spot on Luke's desk where the pocket knife used to sit and a resentment built up in my chest.

And Niall. My dear sweet darling Niall. Eyes horrified, his face drained all colour as his gaze remained fixed on the steady flow of blood streaming from his shoulder.

Suddenly a recollection of memories flooded my mind. Ones so overwhelming I felt like passing out.

Niall throwing food across the room, flipping over chairs, kicking trees. The latest memory of him smashing porcelain plates at me finished off my rocky trip down memory lane and I was shaken.

Something that struck me from all those experiences was my husband's face. It seemed that after any episode he would snap back to himself, expression always pained and horrified.

Like he was afraid of himself.

Niall's lips quivered dangerously and every bit of restraint I had from keeping myself away from him flew out the window.

He was in my arms in a matter of seconds, just in time for sobs to rack his small build.

"Shhh," I murmured softly, pulling him close and holding him tightly. "You're safe now, baby. I've got you."

His body trembled against mine, and his tears soaked into my shirt as he clung to me desperately. The scent of his familiar cologne mingled with the warmth of his embrace, and I felt a surge of protectiveness wash over me.

"I'm here, love," I whispered into his ear, my voice filled with tenderness and reassurance. "You're not alone in this. We'll get through it together."

He looked up at me with tear-filled eyes, vulnerability etched across his features. "I'm sorry, Harry," he choked out between sobs. "I didn't mean to hurt us. I didn't mean for it to go this far. I hate myself for losing control."

Cupping his face gently, I brushed my thumb over his cheek, wiping away his tears.

"Niall, listen to me," I said, my voice filled with unwavering love. "You are not defined by these moments. We'll find a way to understand and manage them together. I'm here for you, no matter what."

He nodded, a mixture of gratitude and fear in his eyes. "I want to change, Harry. I want to be better, for you and for us."

Taking a deep breath, I spoke from the depths of my heart, "Sweetheart, I believe in you. And I'll be right here, holding your hand every step of the way. We'll face this head-on and find the help we need. Our love is stronger than anything that comes our way."

As I held Niall close, his trembling body pressed against mine, tears welled up in my eyes. The weight of my own mistakes bore heavily on my heart, mingling with the immense love and concern I felt for him.

I whispered, my voice choked with emotion, "I'm so sorry, darling. I haven't been the husband you deserved. I've made my own share of mistakes, and I've let you down. Please forgive me."

Niall's tear-filled eyes widened in surprise, his grip on me loosening slightly.

"Hey," he murmured, his soft voice filled with a mix of confusion and concern. "No. No, it's not your fault. You've always been there for me, even when I didn't deserve it."