One Direction One Shots 2

Start It All Over Again (Niall)

I climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind me. I bent over and removed my heels. Taking them in my hands, I flew up the walk to the front door. I pushed the door open flinging my shoes to the side. I could hear Niall’s drunk steps approaching the porch. It took everything in me to not slam the door shut in his face. I walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. I needed something to calm me down, keep my mouth busy. I wasn’t normally a angry person, but I was getting really tired of Niall’s attitude every time we went out to the bar. It was becoming tiresome. I would purposely wear dresses that covered me more now, I would try to tone down the “slut factor” as he would call it. Niall was always happy that I would go out with him, but somehow, by the end of every night out, his temper would get us in trouble. All it even took was a lingering look from some drunk guy, or a stumble into me and have him say “Sorry” the wrong way. Tonight wasn’t any different, someone offered to buy me a drink, I politely refused, but Niall saw, and he reacted. That was 30 minutes ago. I drove us home, I rarely ever bothered to drink anymore. I heard Niall close the door, hard. 

I braced myself against the fridge. This was going to be a long, most likely rough night. He walked into the kitchen and emptied his pockets onto the island in the kitchen. He was wearing my favourite outfit tonight. That grey shirt was hugging his torso perfectly, and his dark jeans were hanging off his hips. I hated him at this moment. His head snapped up, eyes boring into mine. I couldn’t honestly tell if he was mad, or sad. All I knew, was that this conversation was not going to end in a good way for either of us. I held the eye contact. He spoke first. “Well, are you going to fucking say something?” My face contorted, my lips pressing together. “I’m not going to fight with you Niall.” A sick smile appeared on his face. “Of course you’re not going to fucking say anything. Wanna know why? Because you’re a pussy. You can’t even stand up for yourself at the bar. And that is exactly why you’re not going to fight with me tonight. You never will.” He laughed to himself, shaking his head. That was it, I couldn’t take this anymore, “You fucking asshole.” I breathed, his head turned to me. “Excuse me? What did my little “Princess” say?” I glared at him, “You heard me.” I swallowed my fear. “You are a fucking douchebag Niall. How dare you talk to me like that?” I was shaking, he had the most incredulous look on his face, he couldn’t actually believe I was saying this. I continued, “I can’t even have a good time anymore with you! All you do is yell at me, or call me fucking names. All I wanted to do tonight was have a good time, and that poor guy only asked to buy me a drink because YOU WEREN’T FUCKING THERE AGAIN!” I throw the glass of water at his head, he ducks and it hits the wall, exploding all over the floor. “You are never fucking there! But when you are, you ruin everything! It’s all you do! As for calling me a pussy, really Niall? I stand here and take every ounce of shit you throw my way. You insult me, you yell at me, you essentially abuse me, but what do I do? I keep quiet. Hoping, no, praying that one day you will realize that everything I do, is for you. But no, you don’t fucking care. You never will.”

My breath is ratting out of my throat. I am shaking with anger, I can’t even think straight anymore. My hand is holding onto the fridge handle. I realize that is the only thing keeping me up. I let go, sliding down to the ground. Niall watches all this, taking in everything that I say. I can see his eyes are glassy as he exhales a shaky breath. He took slow, measured steps over to me before kneeling in front of me. I meet his eyes with a hateful glare. I could see that I struck a nerve, but I wasn’t about to cave. I was in too deep. He dropped his eyes just as a tear fell down his cheek. I stood up. I wasn’t about to take this, I was the one who was hurt. Of course he would turn this around so it was my problem. I made the perfect little baby cry. I went to leave the kitchen, but was pulled back as Niall reached for my hand. I swatted it away, turning around and bringing my hand up to his face, slapping him with all of the force I had left. His hand went to cup his now red, and swelling cheek. Looking at me in complete disbelief through the tears that were now falling freely down his cheeks. I grabbed my shoes, and went to go up the stairs. Without even looking at him, I whispered, “Now you know how I feel, every time you even speak to me anymore. Doesn’t feel very good does it.” and with that I walked into the spare room to sleep.