Then There Were Four

Chapter 12

A/N: TW - vague description of an anxiety attack

After Niall and I manage to arrange the mountain of food in our arms and make our way back to my flat, I find it a little bit more comfortable to talk to him. The whole thing with the colour-guessing calmed me down a bit and I'm now able to speak easier around him. Or at least about as easy as any Directioner could speak to Niall Horan but I try to keep those thoughts from surfacing. The fact that Niall allowed me to guess even though he knew I probably knew the answer kind of showed me that even though he knows I am a huge creepy stalker of a fan, he's kind of okay with it.

We talk about Brighton, our siblings and our homes until we near the flat and have to stop talking so as not to draw attention to ourselves. The mob of fangirls on the street has dissipated to a handful of girls who have either just arrived or are hanging around waiting for something to happen, just in case. I partially feel sorry for them, knowing that they are so close to the boys and won't have a chance to see them. I imagine being in their situation, so close, yet so far from meeting the people they so long to see and have to stop myself from screaming Here's Niall when I remember how utterly crazy us Directioners are. All hell would break loose.

Niall walks quite close to me and I wish his arm was around me again but I know that his arms are occupied with the food and my - apparently useless - umbrella, which he insisted on carrying for me. I open doors and press the buttons for the lift with the few unoccupied fingers I have left. When we get into the flat, I see the boys watching highlights of what may be the same football match from before. When they notice me and Niall, they groan in unison and relay a string of complaints while Niall and I put the food onto the coffee table.

"Niall, seriously?"

"We had an agreement?"

"I told you he'd do it anyway!"

"Never trust the leprechaun."

Niall just laughs their complaints off. "You know you love it!"

"I expected it from Niall, but Kelly? How could you betray us like that?" Harry pleads.

I know he's joking but his words stab at my heart and his beseeching emerald eyes make me want to dissolve into a puddle on my tiles and I stammer, "I, I couldn't resist." I belatedly realise how crazy it sounds and try to amend with, "Th- the Nando's. I, I couldn't resist Nando's. I mean, I love Nando's. Right, like, who doesn't love Nando's? Like Ni- he said." I gesture wildly to Niall. "I mean, everyone loves Nando's." I mindlessly add a tiny giggle at the end and dash into my kitchen so I can't hear anyone laugh at my idiocy.

I start off by gripping onto the side of the basin. After a few moments I open and stare out of the window, trying to even my breathing. When that doesn't work, I grab a glass and gulp down what feels like gallons of water. I know I am shaking because some water misses my mouth and instead lands on my sweater. I can't stop thinking about how badly I just embarrassed myself and how big a fail of a human being I am. I'm still breathing heavily and quickly and now I feel a little dizzy and quite nauseated. I know my only option is to sit on the floor in the middle of the kitchen and put my head between my knees and I get into this position immediately. I know that one of the boys will come to look for me soon and I don't want them to see me like this but I know that trying to move from the ground won't help.

Breathe in, breathe out. I have to stay positive. Calm down, Kelly. Nothing bad is going to happen. They're just ordinary boys. You have to stay positive. I repeat these in my head over and over until my breathing has slowed to a manageable rate. I don't know how long I've sat there but it shouldn't be too long because I don't think I've heard the door open yet. I stand up as quickly as I can cope without falling over again and thank the heavens that I was able to handle myself, sans further embarrassment.

As I am standing up, the door opens behind me. My head still feels a bit light and I don't want to topple over again so I turn slowly to see Harry looking down worriedly at me.

"Kelly? Are you alright?" His face is so concerned and I'm still a little out of it so I can appreciate the beauty of it without freaking out.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I smile because it's the only thing I can think to do that might iron out the creases between his eyebrows. It doesn't work.

"What happened?" He takes a step toward me, his hands out as if he can tell I'm about to collapse. His eyes dart to my sweater, which probably has dark patches of water, and up to my face, which - judging from his reaction - is as pale as a sheet.

My wet sweater gives me an idea. "I, uh, made a mess when I was trying to drink some water and I was, um, trying to clean it up and I think I came up too quickly, so I'm, uh, feeling a tad lightheaded at the moment. I'll be fine." I finish off with a phony reassuring smile. My story does not hold (where is the cloth I was supposedly using to clean up?) but after another few seconds of him looking into my eyes, and me trying not to look into his, he lets it slide. My breathing returns to normal.

"Okay." He smiles at me but the emotion does not reach his eyes. "I came to help you get some plates and glasses."

"Oh, right." My smile has been wiped off my face now that it is not absolutely necessary.

I turn back into the kitchen and open the cupboard with glasses. As I start to take glasses out and put them on a tray, I feel him come up behind me. He smells fantastic - as, it seems, these boys always do - and I resist the urge to take a whiff of him. Even in my post-panic mind, I can tell that that'd over the verge of creepy stalker-y. On the last glass that I take out, he reaches around me and holds the glass with me, his hand on mine. His hands are rough, yet not callous; their grip is strong, yet not tough. I feel his eyes on me. I keep my eyes glued to the glass - to our hands - and feel my heart race and my breaths become heavier. He guides our hands to put the glass down, and then squeezes my hand.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you earlier, Kelly," he whispers, right next to my ear. He pauses for a moment before awkwardly getting out the next bit. "You should know that you can talk to me about anything. Whenever you need to."

He picks up the tray and sweeps out of the room without another word.

~~~

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