Across the Hall

Chapter 12

     Harry knew he shouldn't have made fun of Niall so much that weekend when Whitney was away; he should have remembered how much of a bitch karma could be. Now, while Niall was probably snuggling with his girlfriend under a blanket, spoiling her with kisses and soft touches, Harry was missing Annie like he'd never missed anyone before. She'd only be gone two weeks, but ever since Liam had brought up London, it gnawed at him. What if Liam was wrong? Would Annie really give up her life in Texas and follow him? Move to London, where she only knew them, and start all over? What if Whitney didn't go? Could she leave her behind as well?

     "Let's get you out of here, yeah? I can't watch you mope all day." Liam offered, early in the morning, finding matted curls spinning a spoon around soggy cereal.

      "Niall?"

     "He's sleeping. The change in his medications have tired him out. I'll text Whitney to check up on him when she gets home from work. But you need some attention, Styles." Grabbing their coats at the door, Harry slipped out the door first, sparing a look at the tan door across the way, wishing his girl was inside sleeping, where he could find her in bed and cuddle her up. But she was miles away, and he was going to have to settle for breakfast with Liam, leaving the blonde to snooze the morning away.

      Whitney had gotten Liam's text when she left her office, desperately in need of some Starbucks. She wafered on whether or not to call him, deciding to surprise him with an arm full of hot chocolate and pastries. She smiled, thinking an afternoon on the patio, one of Niall's famous guitar lessons, even if she was horrible, would be an amazing way to start the week. Humming a tune from a song she'd just learned, she kicked her foot softly against the door.

     "Babe, it's me! Open up! My hands are kinda full! Please!" At first, she thought he wouldn't show; maybe he was already outside, when she heard the tiny metallic click, the door creaking ajar, Niall already back in the living room.

     "Oh-kay..." Whitney whispered to herself, settling their treats on the coffee table, sliding her coat off, laying it on the chair. She could tell Niall wasn't the ray of sunshine he usually was, that he was downright angry. Trying to work him down, she picked up the brown paper bag, handing it over to him.

    "I brought your favorite. Iced lemon cake. Don't worry, I got my own, so there's no nibbles on it this time." He took the bag quietly, settling it back on the table, not even looking.

     "Are you going to tell me what's wrong? Or are we going to continue this charade all afternoon until Liam gets back with Harry?" Niall leveled his stare on her, eyes icy and steeled with anger.

    "Why? Do you need to tell someone? Haven't you already told enough?" He'd never spoken to her like that before, and frankly, she didn't know how to combat it. 

    "Come again?"

    "You know what I'm talking about. No one knew we were in town, and then this pops up." Shoving his phone across the couch to her, she took it in her grasp hesitantly.

     "Go on, don't act like you don't know the passcode. You know everything, which is stupid of me. I should have known you'd let something slip." Getting angry herself, Whitney's thumb slid across the screen, scanning over the web article he must have been fuming about. Biting back a laugh, she looked back at him.

     "It's a British article trying to figure out where you are. What's your point? You've been off the grid for weeks now. They were bound to be searching for you."

   "So you admit it then."

    "Admit what? Niall, you're being weird." Turning to face him fully, Niall only turned away.

    "You told one of your journalist buddies that we were here." Brown eyes went wide at his accusation.

    "You think I would do something like that?! You think I would just sell you out to the highest bidder?"

    "Don't act so shocked." Niall waved her off, pulling himself up on his crutches.

    "DON'T YOU FUCKING TELL ME HOW TO FEEL RIGHT NOW!" Niall's eyes glowered over at her own standing figure; the first time he'd ever heard her raise her voice at him.

     "I didn't say anything to anyone. No one besides my family knows you're here, and they don't even listen to your music, so how in the hell are they supposed to tell anyone that Ireland's golden boy is in some podunk town in Texas?! Jesus Niall, I love you, or at least I did. Apparently, I was wrong. I fell in love with who I thought you were."

    "I'm not done!" Niall shouted at her back, scrunching his forehead in frustration, Whitney grabbing her coat, hand already on the door. 

     "Well, here's the rub. I am. I was going to tell you, I had a show coming up out of town. I was going to ask you to come with me. Now, I couldn't care less what you do. Goodbye, Niall." She walked out the door, not even giving him a cursory glance before she slammed the door.

     She was supposed to be packing; it was supposed to be fun. A week with Niall out of here, just the two of them. But now, Whitney sat alone in the middle of her apartment, crying at the kitchen table. Her boyfriend hated her. His best friends probably did too. Her own best friend was miles away. What was she going to do? She thought about not going, about staying and trying to fix things. Was it even worth it, though?

    Liam and Harry stumbled in the door around ten PM, chuckling about walking in on things they didn't need to be seeing. They didn't count on finding Niall drunk off his arse, lying shirtless on the couch.

     "Well, someone's been productive." Liam teased, taking the empty bottles and throwing them away.

     "It's quiet in here. I expected you and Whit to be preoccupied." Harry smiled, settling his tired body into the recliner. Niall snorted, rolling his eyes. Neither of his band mates missed the look.

     "Niall? Where is Whitney?"

    "Hell if I know."

    "Did something happen?" Liam tensed, not liking where this situation was headed.

     "I told her I think she told some of her journalists friends we were here. She got a little upset, and left."

    "When was this?" Harry's face was in his hands, thinking his day out with Liam hadn't ended so well.

    "This afternoon. Before lunch." Niall's toes touched the still untouched coffee cups, the liquid long run cold. He looked over at Liam, who was busy with his phone. He shook his head sadly at Harry, the two having silent conversations.

    "You really fucked it up this time, Horan. Do you really think she would do something like that? You didn't even think it could be anyone at the therapy center. Or here in the apartment. Or no one at all, just people wondering where the hell you've been for the past weeks?!" 

    "You're wasting your breath, Leemo. He's trashed. She's not answering, and her car's gone. I just pray to God she's alright."

    "Should you call Annie?" Harry shook his head, running his fingers through his curls.

     "I don't want to worry her unless I have to. Hopefully, we'll hear from her soon." Harry stood, walking towards his room, without another word to Niall. Liam stood himself, casting one last look at the blonde.

     "You better hope she's alright, Nialler. You're gonna hate yourself if she's not."