Blue Birds Fly (A One Direction Love Story)

Chapter Fifteen: Boiling Water

Niall's P.O.V.

"You've got five minutes." Naomi said blankly as I stepped into the room. I closed the door behind me, cautiously taking a few slow steps forward. The room was large, but not much stuff filled its' spacious copasity. Towards the center was a big, white rug, with a vibrant, deep purple colored bed sitting on top of it. At the far right end of the room was a door, most likely leading to a bathroom or closet. A vanity table stood a few paces away from the right side of the bed. The walls were a combination of white and lilac, with the occasional poster and picture hanging along the surface. My eyes scanned the room, looking for the place where that faint irish accent had come from.

She sat on the bed a few feet over from were I was. Her long legs were crossed over the deep purple sheets of the queen mattress. Her body was incredibly still. I wanted her to look up at me. I wanted to see the eyes that for so many years had been my supply of support and comfort. But, her long, wavy brown hair concealed her round face as her eyes were casted down towards her hands. I watched curiously as her fingers moved around. I realized she was playing with the sapphire ring on her finger, twisting it back and forth to see its beauty at many different angles in the sun's warm rays. I felt my heart warm as I looked at it, feeling somewhat more confident knowing she still had it. Maybe she did miss me just as much as I missed her. I took another step forward. The wooden floor gave a creak from the new weight. The sudden noise got her attention. She looked up, staring directly at me with dark eyes. Her eyes glanced down at the glowing phone laying face up on her lap. I watched her for a few moments, staring silently as I tried to calm my emotions. She was really going to give me a chance to explain. Maybe I could really fix this.

"Your wasting time." Her voice was quiet. It didn't sound angry or annoyed. It sounded sad, curious, and desperate. She craved answers. She wanted to know their was some reason for what I did. She didn't want to believe I forgot about her. She didn't wanted to think that I no longer caring for her was the truth. For a few moments I was speechless. My mind was clouded, struggling to find the right words to say.

"Can you promise me something?" I asked quietly. I took in a deep, sharp breath, then exhaled loudly. She said nothing. "Just promise me you'll listen to the whole story. Don't interrupt. Don't storm out. Just please listen to me. Can you promise me that."

She stared at me intently for a few moments, and for a second I felt like she was about to hit me. But then she nodded her head, and urged me to begin.

"When I first auditioned, I never realized how much this whole being famous thing was going to affect the ones I love most. I never thought of how they would be swarmed for knowing me. I didn't realize how they could be targeted with hate just to upset me, or because some fans were jealous. None of that ever dawned on me until I was put into One Direction, and when Louis' best friend Vanessa was targeted all because Louis mentioned her in an interview. She got direct messages on twitter every day from jealous fans telling her how unworthy she was to be friends with the Louis Tomlinson. People called her names. They learned her insecurities and used them against her. Some of them even did it just to get Louis' attention." I stopped for a moment, catching my breath and trying to regain my emotions. Her baby blues met mine as I glanced over at her. She said nothing, just stared at me quietly with eyes that seemed to encourage me to continue. I took another deep breath, closed my eyes, and continued.

"Slowly, it broke her. I can remember the times Louis would walk into the hotel in tears from his conversation on the phone with her. She grew to hate him for making her feel so miserable. She blamed him for all the hate. She blamed him for destroying her life. Eventually, Vanessa refused to talk to Louis. She thought maybe they would leave her alone if she did. She was tired of people using her to get to Louis. She was tired of the hate. They changed her. And the saddest part is... Louis blames himself. He thinks he destroyed her life. All because of cyber bullying he had no control over." I paused for a second. My eyes looked directly into her's as I continued.

"I didn't want any of that to ever happen to you. I couldn't live with myself knowing I ruined your life. I didn't want you to have to ever go though anything like that. I was just trying to protect you. But I guess either way you would've gotten hurt. I know I don't deserve your friendship. I know you have every right to hate me. But please, please believe me when I say I was just trying to keep you safe." My voice cracked as I felt the emotions overwhelming me. I blinked hard, forcing the tears that were building up in my eyes to go away. I couldn't cry in front of her. I didn't deserve her pity.

"I thought you hated me. I thought that you made new celebrity best friends, and I just wasn't good enough anymore. I felt so alone Niall. It hurt so much when you acted like you didn't know me. I thought you were trying to forget me. I thought you were ashamed of being friends with me." Her voice was so quiet, but I could register the pain she was feeling as each word left her mouth. If I was any farther away from her I wouldn't have heard a word she said. She looked up at me, her big eyes full of tears. I felt my heart drop as the first tear rolled down her cheek.

"Naomi that's the complete opposite of how I feel for you!" I exclaimed, moving closer towards where she was. "You're the little sister I never had. You're my best friend. I love you Naomi. And I'm sorry for not being there for you. I'm sorry for whatever pain I made you go through." The guilt was crashing down harder on me now. Thinking about how she must of felt was one thing. But hearing it, that's a completely different story. My heart ached tremendously. She needed me, and I wasn't there for her.

"Then why didn't you call? Why didn't you find some way to contact me and tell me any of this! I would've done it for you! I would have never let you think I forgot about you! I would've explained!" Naomi sudden change of voice volume startled me. She was on her feet now. Her eyes were large and full of furry. As she took a step towards me, I took a step back. "If I meant as much to you as you mean to me.. you would've contacted me." Tear tracts covered her face. I watched with pain as more trailed down her enflamed cheeks. Her voice was no longer angry. It sounded more like a sad child now. It shattered my heart even more.

"I wanted to call you. I wanted to email you. Naomi I did! But management changed my number and email and made me lose all my contacts. And after that text message you sent me... I thought you would never want to speak to me again. I thought you hated me. I thought... I didn't even know what to think. I tried to explain. You didn't want to hear it." I could feel the hot tears rolling down my cheeks. My voice was beginning to fail me. I turned my head towards the floor as the tears ran down faster and harder. I swallowed deeply, trying to regain control of my emotions. "I'm just so sorry." The words barley got passed my lips. The guilt and pain was just to heavy. I felt my shoulders heave forward as sobs began to crawl up my throat. My vision was fogged by tears.

"I could never hate you." She said softly. I felt her small arms wrap around me, and her fingers gently rub against my shoulder as I tried to stop crying. "You were protecting me, Niall. I'm sorry I never thought of that. You made so many sacrifices to protect us." Her voice was gentle and kind. It made my heart feel less heavy. It made my body grow calm. My tears seized, and I looked down at her. Her sky blue eyes were staring at me with the same look I used to see before thing went downhill. "I'm sorry I was so stubborn. It was my fault for feeling so alone. If I would just have given you the time..."

"No. Naomi, this was all my fault. Don't start blaming yourself." I croaked. My throat felt raw from crying. My eyes stung, and I could tell my appearance wasn't that lovely. I felt so weak and selfish. I should be the one comforting her. I didn't deserve this.

"All that matters is that I have my best friend back." The smile that spread across her face seemed to light up the room. I couldn't help but smile back at her. "And nothing is going to take you away from me again. Promise?"

"I promise." I said simply, pulling her willowy frame into a tight hug and possibly never letting go. She was back. I finally got my Naomi back. And nothing...nothing was going to change that.

***

Felicity's P.O.V.

"Felicity Payne?" A woman's voice chirped from a door a few feet from where I was sitting. I slowly rose from my seat, and turned towards where the noise had come from. "Hi, I'm Dr. Tricia Warren. It's a pleasure to meet you." A woman that looked to be in her early thirties stood just outside the door. A honey suckle blonde bob framed her oval shaped face. A few freckles stretched across the brim of her long nose. Her dark eyes looked at me warmly, and her smile seemed to settle my nerves. I followed her into the room, and stood by the door as she sat down behind her desk.

"You're in a safe place now, sweetheart." Tricia's kind voice assured me as she gestured me to take a seat. Her dark eyes stared deeply at me for a few moments, scanning my every move as I walked deeper into the small room. My hands gripped either side of the chair she offered me as my body slowly sank into the cushioned seat. "No one will hear anything you tell me."

"Okay." My faint voice replied. I looked at different things in the room, trying to get my mind away from those memories.

"You're a very strong young lady, with a great story for many of our patients to look up to." Her warm smile made my nervousness slip away. Maybe I could trust her. Maybe she really could help me.

"Thank you." I blushed, giving her a small smile in return. For a moment, she was silent. She sat just watching me, staring down at my bare arms, then looking at the different marks on my face, and then finally at my birthmark. I casually let my hair fall in front of my face, trying to shield some of it from view. How could she just sit there and stare? I wanted her to help me forget, not give me a reminder to the memories I was trying so hard to push away.

"Forgive me." She apologized when she seemed to realize what I was doing. "It just amazes me how sane you are with the look of those injuries." She stopped for a moment, waiting to see if I had anything to say. I stayed quiet, just staring at her with blank, vacant eyes. If only she knew how unsane I was. "Believe me when I say how much we admire you. How did you manage to stay so strong during those years?"

As soon as she said "those years" my body froze. A million images seemed to swarm into my head at once. "Be strong" my mind seemed to be whispering to me. But every time those confident boosts appeared in my head, Margret's voice always seemed to follow after. I couldn't get it out of my head. I tried to forget every word she said to me. I tried to tell myself to let go. But I couldn't. It was like everything was apart of me, and I would have to remember it everyday for the rest of my life. All the verbal bullying, all the physical abuse, and even the rape played through my mind whenever I was alone, or whenever I was quite. It was slowly killing me from the inside out. And I knew that soon enough they would find me, and things would be even worse.

"Felicity?" Dr. Tricia's voice rang through my ears. She was much closer then I expected, standing just a few feet in front of me. Her dark eyes looked concerned, but at the same time mystified. I blinked as a crease formed on her forehead as she began scribbling something on the piece of paper she was holding with deep concentration. Her eyes flickered up to me for a moment. She looked me over while her hand still continued to fly across the paper. Our eyes met for a moment, but then she turned her gaze towards my arm. I followed her gaze to see exactly what she was staring at. The reminder. I watched as her eyes widened. She looked up at me, her mouth now formed into an o shape. "How did you get this?" Her voice was low. It sounded troubled, and the look on her face told me she had a good guess to how this mark came onto my arm.

"He gave it to me." I replied. I could tell my face was slack and my eyes were emotionless. I took a deep breath, then blinked, then exhaled.

"Who gave it to you?" She asked curiously. My eyes met her's, then moved down to my hands.

"Hank did." I told her. "He gave it to me as a reminder."

She was quite for a moment, just watching me with those dark eyes of hers. Then, she picked up a pencil from her desk and began to add to her notes. I watched how quickly she wrote on her paper. It was almost as quick as Carter's ability to change a subject. I liked watching her write with such concentration. It amused me how her fingers occasionally raised towards her forehead to push back any loose pieces of hair, how her teeth grazed her bottom lip as she erased her mistakes and then corrected them. Little habits like those seemed to make her unforgettable, and anytime I saw someone do that, I would most likely think of her.

"What do you mean "as a reminder"?" She stared directly at me with such an intense gaze it made me nervous. I shifted in my seat, thinking about how to respond to her question. "Felicity... what exactly did they do to you all those years?"

I hesitated for a moment, searching my mind for what to say. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Nothing but air. I was speechless for a moment, just staring ahead as the memories took over. Images soared through my mind. Some stay plastered in my vision longer then others. I could feel the sweat beginning to bead on my forehead, my palms twitching against my thighs, and my foot slightly tapping against the cool tile floor. My head was pounding, like I had my own personal drummer inside it. It was going to burst any moment. I could feel it. And then it all poured out. The words and memories flew out of my body like rushing water flowing into a waterfall. I told her everything.

4 Hours Later

"Felicity! Hey!" I turned towards where the faint irish accent had come from, seeing the familiar wavy brown hair and willowy frame of Naomi Pierce. She smiled and walked towards me, pulling me into a tight hug as soon as she approached. "How was it?" Naomi asked sweetly, looking over at me with big, anxious blue eyes.

"Surprisingly, it was really helpful." I replied as we began to walk out of the building. The small squeak that came from her mouth drew my attention. I tilted my head to look at her. A huge smile played against her bow shaped lips as the words left my mouth. I couldn't help but smile back. The thing with Naomi was, she just radiated with happiness. Everyone around her just always felt so happy, it was hard not to. The way she smiled at you with such kindness, the way her eyes looked at you with love, and even just the way she talked to people. It made you feel accepted. "Thanks for coming to pick me up by the way."

"Of course!" Naomi hitched her purse higher onto her shoulder, and flicked back a few strands of hair. Her phone lit up in her hand, and she turned away to look at it. I watched as her finger typed back a response before she turned to me. "Hey, are you hungry?"

"Maybe just a little bit." I smiled shyly, feeling somewhat guilty about the fact that I left my wallet at home.

"Perfect. Everyone's at the new Nandos that opened up down the block, and they're waiting for us to join them. That sound good to you?"

"Sounds great."

"Brillant."

The conversation seemed to be all about me after that. We continued to walk to the car, letting the warm summer air brush against our bare arms and legs. Naomi began to ask me questions about my visit with Dr. Warren. She didn't have to press answers out of me. I was happy to tell her anything. I was halfway through a sentence when I stopped. I struggled to say something, but the words couldn't come out anymore. I felt my body freeze in place, not moving an inch. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. I didn't even have a chance to scream. All I could do was stare at the man on the other side of the road, who had just appeared out of the shadows.

On the other side of the road stood Hank, smiling as cold as the Arctic Ocean.

***