Downfall [Punk Niall Horan]

19

Walk. Breathe. Walk. Breathe.

My mind kept repeating as I tried to bring myself down from passing out. Everything was tilting from the moment Ivanna told me that my family was a long string of homicidal people, and I still couldn't see or think straight.

My Great Grandfather, Grandfather, Father, all of them were apart of this. Whether it be on the wrong or right side. Which I still didn't know which was which yet, but I had a pretty good guess at who was fighting for the right side at the moment.

Uneven breathes hitched from my chest raggedly, and I looked around for someone who looked like they knew something. Spinning around, I found a guy a few years older than me and run up to him quickly. Surely I looked insane in the process, but I hoped I didn't scare him away.

Now that I was somewhat breathing better, I acted as if nothing was wrong when I came face to face with him. The boy had swishy brown hair, the color of rich caramel. "Excuse me," I said, tapping him on his shoulder. The man turned around to face and his eyes widened when he realized who I was.

Blue irises flicked over every inch of my heated face, but at least hate didn't fill his stare. He was somewhat handsome, a light beard taking up the bottom of his face. The man seemed kind enough, as he gave me a confused toothy smile. "

Um," I stuttered lamely, reaching up to scratch my head awkwardly, "Do you know where Zaios is?" Embarrassed, I let my eyes shift down to the floor really quick then back to him. I wrung my hands together, awaiting his response. I hoped he knew where my Grandfather was.

It even felt weird to say that now because I had never know a Grandfather. My mothers father had passed away when she was younger, along with her mother a few years later who died of some kind of cancer.

It took a few moments of the man staring at me quizzically, wondering why I wanted to see the boss man, before he finally answered me.

"Yeah, I do in fact actually know where the Boss is. Should be in his flat right about now," the man said, a high pitched British accent. Man, why we're all these people from out of the country here? Had his home gotten destroyed by my Great Grandfather, or Father, too?

"Do you think you can take me to him-," I stumbled off, realizing I didn't know the man's name. It always left me feeling embarrassed when I couldn't properly address someone, especially when I was asking for a favor.

"Louis," Louis finished for me, giving me a weird smile, "and sure thing, love." Relief flooded me instantaneously, making me smile sloppily. Surely my grandfather could tell me something about our family history and how this all started in the first place. Or like why he was on the different side, and why our family did the things they did.

"Thank you, so much. My name is-," I finally spit out, but Louis stopped me with a wave of his hand. "Tylie Owens, or so I've heard. The big talk around here now a days. I know who you are, now come on before he leaves again," Louis grinned devilishly, motioning with a flick of his head which direction we'd be going in.

Mentally, I mapped the route in my mind knowing I would probably need it again one day. All of the hallways looked the same here, but I had to remember this was a straight left outside of the main room. As we made it past the people into a hallway with a few wary glances thrown our way, Louis finally spoke. "So you're the enemy's daughter?" He asked, not at all fazed by the distant states being thrown at us.

Grumbling, I sighed sadly, "In the flesh."
Louis chuckled softly and threw a glance down at me, "How are you taking it down here? I mean I know pretty much the whole story, but I want to hear it from the girl herself and not a bunch of hushed whispers," he confided in me, making me shrug carelessly.