More than a memory (A One Direction fanfic)

Chpt 11 - Addicted

Chpt 11 - Addicted

I had woken several times in the night, only to find Niall's strong, thick arm wound protectively around my skinny waist. Whenever I tried to shift away, he tightened his grip around me, sighing deeply in his sleep. I couldn't stop myself from smiling; he was just so damn cute, especially when he was unconciously spooning me. He was completely at peace. So placid. So calm.

Normally I would've stopped myself from having these thoughts about him; since I knew it could never happen; he was a famous singer and I was nothing but a student; but it was the middle of the night and I was half asleep.

**********************

The sun reached its pale fingers through the gap between the curtains, touching my shoulder lightly. I ignored it, rolling over and reached my hand out to where I thought Niall was sleeping, but my instead of a warm sleeping body, my fingers met the sheets of the bed.

My eyes snapped open straight away and I felt around for him blindly as my eyes focused into the soft, morning light.

"Niall?" I mumbled, perplexed.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes and saw a note lying on the pillow which Niall's head had been resting on as he slept. My eyebrows knit together and I picked up the small piece of paper daintily, yawning, and began to read over the writing, which had been hastily scribbled down.

Beth,

I am sorry for leaving you, but I have a few things to take care of. I have called Zayn, since I didn't want you to be alone. He will look after you until I come back, which will be soon, I promise. I hope you feel better soon.

I miss you already,

Much love ~ Niall

P.S You look cute when you sleep ;)

I smiled to myself at his last comment, and could almost hear his thick, distinctive voice saying those words to me. I tilted my head to the side as I pondered why he had left so early, I had been looking forward to seeing his sweet little face when I woke up; and I sighed disappointedly.

Sluggishly, I manuerved my way out of the mountain of blankets, pillows and covers and tumbled out of the Double King Size bed.

I used my stomach muscles and swung my legs; which felt like dead weights at that point in time; over the edge of the bed. I grabbed for my wheel-chair, unfolding it. I climbed awkwardly into it, grunting and grimacing at the searing pain that erupted where my ribs were.

I wheeled myself into the living room, and sighted a shirtless Zayn draped half-asleep across the couch. He half-sat, half-lay shoveling cereal into his mouth, wearing nothing but sweat-pants. My eyes widened at the sight of his biceps and abs, and I quickly hid my face, taking a deep breath and composing myself.

Why do you always act like this when you see boys shirtless?

I asked myself the pointless question, the heat draining from my cheeks. I rolled over and stopped beside the couch, catching Zayn's attention.

"Where's Niall?" I asked, looking up at him. Zayn stood up immediately.

"And I don't even get a 'good morning?' " He chuckled, his voice low and raspy. He ran his large hands up and down my arms and tilted his head to the side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked me, a look of genuine concern upon his chiseled features.

"Good, thank you." I replied, moving closer to the couch. I began to struggle to lift myself out of the chair, groaning as the crushing feeling in my chest intensified. I suddenly realized how weird, hopeless and awkward I must have looked and stopped, looking sheepishly up at Zayn.