Rock Me || Niall Horan

two.

Niall Horan was a pain in the ass. Niall Horan thought he was funny. He had this uncanny ability to turn any serious conversation into a comedic skit, often at the worst possible moments. Knowing the members of One Direction at a personal level was a blessing many wished would be granted to them. But that blessing turned into a curse anytime Niall Horan came into view and opened his mouth.

Niall Horan was a bully. This was not me exaggerating. He wasn't just a tease like hormonal secondary school boys. No, he was the complete package. Although he had never gotten physical with me, his verbal behaviour was relentless, like a shadow that followed me everywhere. Every encounter felt like walking through a minefield. I'd be chatting with the other members, laughing at Louis' quirks or listening to a story Harry would tell. I'd just be enjoying the moment, when I'd suddenly sense Niall's presence. It was almost palpable—the shift in energy as he marched over, the swagger promising that I was going to become the punchline of another one of his irritating jokes.

"Look who came!" He'd announce, "Miss. Sensitive is here!" His voice dripped with mockery. Everyone around us would laugh, and those who didn't join in on the laughter wore amused grins, making it clear that they were entertained by Horan's antics. I'd feel my cheeks flush with a mix of anger and shame swirled within me.
What pissed me off the most was that I never had the chance to defend myself. I couldn't just blurt out how much his words had hurt me, or how he made me feel like an outsider in a world I already wasn't familiar enough with. Instead, I'd force a laugh or roll my eyes, playing along like his snide comments didn't make me want to jump him and drag him by his hair. I crumbled a little more each time.

At first, I tried to shrug it off. It's just Niall being Niall. I'd reassure myself, hoping to convince myself that it didn't matter. That I didn't know him well enough to just assume that he had it out for me. But each remark chipped away at my self-esteem, leaving me to question my worth that I had worked so hard on building my entire life. It made me wonder how someone so talented and so gifted could be so cruel to someone they barely knew. 
The others didn't see it, or maybe they just chose to ignore it or even pretended they didn't notice. Zayn had told me multiple times that maybe I was just overreacting. Perhaps you're mistaking it for something else. He'd say. Moments like these reminded me that he was a man after all and had no idea what it was like to be a woman subjected to such behaviours. To feel so small at times. He'd laugh along, although I'd have thought he'd understand, and it made me feel even more isolated. But I'd brush it all off and assume it was a misunderstanding on my end. 

As I'd sit quietly during our hangouts, I would sometimes catch Niall watching me, gazing at me like a hawk, a glint of something in his eyes—was it amusement or something else? It made me feel uneasy. Did he even realise how he was affecting me, or was I just another target in his sadistic eyes? Thinking like this was exhausting and I longed for the day when I'd finally confront him. When I'd see the look of guilt on his face, the realisation that his words had consequences. I'd do anything to see him look like a defenceless little lamb.

"You really hate that guy, huh?" Kaz threw her empty cup into the café bin, the cup landing with a thump.
"Hate is a strong word," I begun. "He just really, really, pisses me off."
Kaz raised an eyebrow. "Sounds a lot like hate to me. You can't deny that he really gets under your skin." 
I let out a sigh, fiddling with the material inside of my jean pocket. "Okay, maybe I don't like him. But I don't hate him." The truth was, I felt a whirlwind of emotions about the blonde, but hatred was not one of them. "It's complicated." Kaz pushed the entrance door of the café and held it for me. "Why thank you ma'am." I said.
Kaz rolled her eyes playfully. "You are the most welcome, my liege." She said as I stepped outside. "So, why is it complicated then?" She asked, falling into step beside me. "Maybe he just likes the attention you give him?" 
I took a small sip of my iced tea, "You sound like my mum." I swirled the ice in my cup. "It's like that lecture mums always give their daughters. 'A boy will only bully you if he likes you.'" I said in a mocking voice. "Bullshit."
"Maybe your mum's childhood lectures are right? Maybe he does like you." I turned my head towards her.
"I wouldn't go that far. He barely knows me."
Kaz smirked and nudged my shoulder with her elbow. "Maybe that's just the way he is. Like, he's trying to grab your attention in his own weird, twisted way."
I shook my head, not willing to entertain the idea. "No. Regardless of his intentions it makes me uncomfortable." 
"Makes sense." Kaz hummed in understanding. "I still think that it's just a case of one big misunderstanding."
"Kaz." I begged.
"Right, sorry." Kaz mumbled, not wanting to cause me any upset. 

For a while, we strolled through the bustling street in silence, the sounds of the cafés behind us fading into the distance. The streets around us buzzed with life as people rushed to get from one point to another. The aroma of sweet pastries permeated the air, blending in with the subtle scent of yesterday evening's rain on the pavement. The atmosphere around us shifted as we turned onto Greek Street. The sounds of laughter and chatter from people on the main street were now drowned out by the gentle rustle of leaves of the trees in the middle of the street. 
I stole a glance at Kaz, her expression contemplative as she took in the sights around us—the way the sunlight casted playful shadows on the ground as it filtered through the green leaves. It was relaxing to share such moments with her, it allowed for a brief pause from the chaos in our academic lives.