The chosen [Niall Horan]

Chapter 31

I hadn't realized before just how much I love this house, but as we walk through the door, Niall helping me to walk, I know that I'm home. The warm air envelops me, pushing aside the cold from outside. I look around, realizing just how lucky I am to be back here.

I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, hoping to push away the pain in my leg. I feel as though at any moment it may just give out beneath me. Just as I'm about to tip over, Niall moves behinds me, arm moving from around my shoulder down to my waist, his other arm snakes around the other side, hugging me from behind. He pulls me back into his chest, letting me take all weight off of my leg.

His arms are gentle against me, trying not to touch any of the burns. He shifts slightly, lips coming down to my ear level.

"Welcome home" he whispers, pecking my temple.

I feel the familiar butterfly flutter in my stomach, only this time it's quickly replaced with a throbbing pain. I wiggle uncomfortably, trying to ease the pain.

In an instant I'm in his arms, arms wrapped around his neck while he carries me over to the kitchen, it's only a few steps away but he insists on making sure that non of my stitches tear or that I make the situation worse.

We walk into the spotless kitchen, it takes me a moment to realize what we're doing in here. When I do I cling onto his neck for dear life.

"Sybil...what are you doing?" He asks giggling.

I look down at the stunning marble countertop, pale colours mixing together to form the stone. I look at the pearly white cabinets that match the countertop so perfectly. My gaze wonders down to my own body, caked in blood and grime.

"Il mark everything up, I'm filthy" I tell him.

"I honestly couldn't care less, I'll clean up later" he says, setting me down on the counter gently. The marble's cold under my ripped pants, sending shivers down my spine.

"I'm going to go grab you something clean, what would you like?" He asks? Still holding my hand.

I think about it for a minute, il need to clean myself off so I guess I'll need shorts and a tank top to remove as much as possible. I'll need something to put on when I'm done too.

"It's fine, I can go" I mumble, starting to push myself off the counter.

"No, you can't." He says, pushing me back to where I was sitting, leaving a red mark in the counter.

"Fine. Shorts, a tank top, sweats and a tshirt I guess"

He gives me his award winning smile and runs to the stairs, turning back every few steps to check on me. In a couple minutes he's back with the clothes, putting them in the island opposite to me. I stare at the garments awkwardly, thinking of how we'll do this.

"Could you maybe just step into the living room please? Just while I get changed."

His bright blue eyes go wide as he nods his head, moving over to the next room while I change.

I carefully pull myself to the edge of the counter, my feet making a small thud when they hit the ground.

"You ok in there?" Niall asks from the other room, worry laced in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I respond, holding in the scream that's trying to make its way past my lips.

I slowly pull off the ripped pants, trying my best to avoid the burns and gash. Once off, I grab them up off the floor and throw them the garbage can that lies only a few feet away. The same process is repeated with my shirt, only this one is more painful. I'm careful to try and not touch the wounds that cover my abdomen, but I fail miserably.   All that's left is to put the new garments on, I reach out and take grab them, pulling the soft shorts over my legs and the tank top over my head.