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(10) The Hunger Games

(10) The Hunger Games

I didn't sleep much that night.

Thoughts kept flooding my mind. Like for my family.

What could they be doing right now? Were they worried sick with me gone? This was my first Christmas without them, and it wasn't the best feeling ever. My ribs were slowly contracting around my lungs, making me struggle a bit to pull in air. I miss them all so much. I wasn't used to being away a lot, because really, there wasn't so much for me to go away to. And it's so much harder for me to not be with them on a day where we should be so close to each other.

What about Liam, though? Did he miss his family?

There was a certain note in his voice, a certain light in his eyes, when he had said "Merry Christmas." It was like he didn't like Christmas at all. He was hiding something, I could feel it. He barely even spoke since that non-so Christmassy greeting earlier. What he was hiding, what seemed to weigh him down, it was big, I knew it. Even though he had tried so hard to hide the refracted light in his eyes, tried to hold his broken smile long enough to make it seem real, it was obvious.

I clutched the blanket tighter around me as I stared at the ceiling, where the color of the night and the gleam of moonlight battled, giving it a magical shade of blue.

Something in my stomach kept nagging at me, something kept whispering in my ear, telling me something that I couldn't understand. Or at least didn't want to understand. It was a clear message, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to do it.

If I wanted to fix him.

Was he even broken? Behind those warm brown eyes and annoying smirk, was he hiding a wound? But he's always seemed so perfect, so godlike that the thought of him possibly having an imperfection was hard to imagine. He's got everything one could ever have. Right?

Sleep began to cloud my mind, and my eyes started to feel heavy. My thoughts weren't crystal clear to me anymore, but one remained solid.

I'll fix him.

-*-*-*-

I woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs. I could hear sizzling from over the stove, and the ever-so seductive scent of food lolled with my senses, pinching them awake. Slowly, I sat up and rubbed the sleep of my eyes, yawning.

"'Morning." His voice was deep and husky, and I didn't know why my heart suddenly skipped a beat.

"'Morning," I greeted back. "Why're you up so early?" I stood up, careful not to put weight on my injured leg, and stretched my body upwards, entwining my fingers together palm-up. I sighed contently as I felt some of my bones click and snap.

"I'm always up early." He shrugged as he flipped the bacons. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wondering why he still hadn't made a snickering remark yet. He turned the stove off and, with the pan in his hands, walked over to the table where he poured its contents on a pristine plate. I subconsciously licked my lips when I saw the steam rising from the newly cooked, delicious bacons. I watched as he discarded the pan on the sink and sat on the table, and you know what he did? He began to eat it. Without invting me.

"Aren't you gonna share?" I asked incredulously. He snickered.

"Make your own food." Jerk. I huffed as I hopped over to the fridge. I bent over awkwardly, my butt strutted out uncomfortably because of my injured leg, and scanned the contents. All the while, I could feel Liam's eyes trained on my arse, and I snickered despite of my embarassment.

"Liking the view, Payne?" I asked, smirking as I continued to scavenge for food.

"Definitely." Through my peripheral vision, I could see him taking a bite of his bacon while staring at my-- 

Why on earth is he doing this?

I tried to ignore his burning stare, and just decided on having egg. I grabbed two pieces and hopped over to retrieve the pan Liam had put on the sink. Grabbing a hold of it, I was soon met with an unexpected problem. I craned my neck so I was facing upwards, and I looked at the wooden cupboards with fanciful carved edges. I let out a defeated sigh.

Oil. That was what I needed. It was located on the second level of this particular cupboard I was staring at, and it required me my two feet to climb on a chair and reach for it. Considering only one of my feet is usable, yeah, I'm a failure.

But just for the heck of it, I tiptoed on my uninjured one and strained my arms to the point that I swear I could feel my arm's muscles being ripped apart slowly. I opened the cupboard, but my real problem was inside. Said oil was on the second level. The tip of my fingers scraped over the bottle's lowest part, and I tried with all my energy to reach for it.

"Here, lemme help." And suddenly I felt the warmth of his body against my back, and I swallowed the gasp that threatened to escape my lips. I took my hands down awkwardly, and my breath hitched when his muscular chest rubbed against my back as he extended his arms to grab the oil. We weren't naked or anything, but I could feel the defined and chiseled surface of his torso against my back. His breathing rustled my hair, and I had this weird feeling that he was looking down at me.

Did he really have to be so close? Why was he doing this?

"Here." I turned around, and suddenly I was face to face with him. The air got knocked out of me when his brown orbs focused on mine, and I vaguely felt his warm addictive breath against my lips. My heart was all but rampaging against my contracting ribs, and my hands began to shake weakly.

He eyed my lips for a moment, and then looked back up at me. My heart was as wild as ever as he closed his eyes. He started to lean in. I gulped.

Did I want this? Did I want to kiss Liam Payne?