Chapter Twenty-Six
//Niall//
“Hey, Nialler,” Louis says about three minutes after the whole innuendo fiasco.
“Yes?” I answer, starting to feel irritated as my stomach demanding my full attention. I know that I had dinner maybe two hours ago at most, but I am a somewhat growing teenager with nutritional needs! I have woken up in the middle of the night just because I got hungry and my stomach would not let me sleep. Ugh, I would kill for barbeque right now. Like really, hand me the damn gun?
“Reckon you could use your hidden leprechaun powers to bust us out of here?”
If looks could kill, Louis would be dead a dozen times within the second.
Now, it’s okay when it’s a fellow Irish person joking about our supposed leprechaun genes, but when someone who isn’t remotely Irish says that to me, I tend to . . . lose it.
“You inconsiderate mother-trucking little wanker! You think that this is a joke?! We are bloody locked in god knows where and how far down below the ground and you choose right NOW TO BE FUNNY? THIS ISN’T FUNNY!”
And I should leave out the rest of my little wearing vent because it only gets worse. . . . . .
After I put them through my oh-so-overdue rant and general teenage angst about everything that was unfair about our current state, I realise that we were in a room-full of children thirty-five swearing words too late.
Liam gives me an extremely reproachful glare while the younger kids looked like they want to either burst into laughter or tears. Tears, since I probably scared the cute little buggers halfway to death. And god, are those actual pet collars around their necks? All of the hybrids’?
“I’m sowwy,” I try my best kiddie voice. But I suppose that it doesn’t quite work out when surround by, well, kids.
“Niall James Horan,” Liam says in his ‘fatherly’ voice. And it’s scary how much like a grown-up he sounds in this temperament. “You should have a better control of your vocabulary in front of kids!”
I start to defend myself when the blond bloke—Ashton—snickers quietly. There’s a disapproving hiss from someone and I guess that’s Harry.
"What's funny is funny, dear young Harold," Ashton defends himself.
"Not in front of a bunch of scared kids, it's not," Harry shoots back.
I watch them bicker for a few minutes. It's like watching a real-life daytime soap opera unfold in front of your eyes. The kids, at least, are amused for once.
Just as I think that maybe there's still hope, my stomach grumbles.
Sighing I mutter, "I'd kill for a barbecue right now." Hell, I'd gladly sink bodies in ponds or whatever. Give me food," I moan out the last bit.
"Don't say that," Louis pouts. "You're making me hungry too." His stomach growls as if to make a point.
"Stop talking and you'll save energy that way," Liam says smartly. Trust him to be the smart-arse in a situation like this.
"I'm really ticked that I'm tied down so that I'm forced to listen to your teacher-pet knowledge," Zayn teases fondly.
Turning my head towards Liam again, I see him glowering. "Keep talking, Malik, and I won't help you with the next maths test you have. Which I believe is next week."
Harry's cat ears flick towards the door and so do the other hybrids', almost in perfect synchronisation that it's weird.
Seconds later, there is metallic rattling from outside the door, followed by the door swinging open.
YOU ARE READING
Irresistible
Fanfiction*NOT FAMOUS* Harry is a hybrid-cat; he has certain feline characteristics that are easy to hide most of the time. But when Niall moves into Doncaster, his inner kitty wants to come out and play.
