Summer's barely started for the almost new couple, and they don't think it can get any better than being together. However, the reality of life is only around the corner and they never expected that keeping a relationship healthy would be this diffi...
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It's never good to go to bed angry, but I do so anyway. Besides, my head is aching with the worst migraine I've ever had in my life and the only thing that lessens the pain is lying down. Even the mere brightness of light makes my head pound, and at this rate, there's no way I'm going to try talking to Niall about anything.
I receive a hundred texts and calls from him, but I reside not to respond to any of them. When I skim through his texts, I see no signs of apologies, just more accusations and meaningless blabber. That officially sets me off, resulting in me turning my phone off altogether and neglecting it for the rest of the night. I have trouble falling asleep because of all the thoughts rendering my mind, but eventually, I do.
My head doesn't hurt as much when I get up the next morning. Still, I don't want to leave my bed. So I sit up and fold my legs against me, residing to stare at my wall.
I don't know what to do. I miss Niall and I wish we could put yesterday's fight behind us, but I don't want him to think he can dictate my male friends and who I choose to breathe next to.
So... what's the next move?
We've never gotten in such a big fight before. This is all new to me and I don't know anything about relationships. I know for a fact that I can't give in to him, I'm not the one in the wrong. I have nothing to apologize for.
Should I wait? I don't know what there's to wait for, but it seems like the only choice I have at the given moment. I can't make the first move or I'll be submitting to him. I refuse to be the type of person to surrender and feign weakness—and, arguably, stupidity—for something I'm clearly not at fault for.
"Hey, are you okay?" My mom asks me when I step out of my bedroom for the first time that morning.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I reply, although it comes out so artificial I feel like vomiting.
My mom's elongated stare tells me that she knows something. She sighs first, and then my previous prediction breaks through her lips, "Niall came by late last night. I told him you were already sleeping."
"Were you?" I stammer, the thought of him bothering my mom for our foolish love quarrel troubling me. How could he? "I'm sorry if he woke you up—"
"No, honey, don't worry. I was just watching TV." She walks closer to me, bringing her hand to feel my forehead. "You don't have a fever, but you don't look well either. Did something happen? Niall wouldn't tell me anything last night, he just came in and left so fast."
I swallow a lump in my throat. "I don't know, it's nothing." I say, only because I don't want her to worry. "We just had an argument yesterday, that's all."
"Aw," My mom coos. "If you really care for each other, that'll happen from time to time."
"Yeah..." I sigh, understanding where she's coming from.
