Modest Seduction - Book 7 (Larry Stylinson AU)

Chapter 3 - You Don't Own Me

You Don't Own Me

Her wide eyes stared back at him, the doors closed as if in slow motion and his breathing was ragged. As the aluminium doors shut, the space between them finally sliced in two Niall could hardly catch his breath. He stared at his reflection, his face mirrored with shadows and lines that appeared to age him beyond his years. He ran a hand through his hair, he was trembling.

The first time he'd spoken to her since the hospital, all the night's he'd stayed awake dreaming of what he should say to her. Every forgotten whisper, broken promise and shaky confession of how he felt dissipated as she left the roof. He punched the doors, let out a scream as the pain in his wrist ignited.

He knew they were watching him, friends that were like brothers and stood in the shadows. They were always there for him, just like he had been for them. Yet, something felt different now. He felt overwhelmed with the wholeness that Dakota promised, her presence alone made him shiver. Only now, all the dreams he had of a perfect reunion. All the plans he'd made, ways he promised that he'd spoil her had been foiled.

Niall had it in his head that when he finally lay eyes on her, when the blue in her eyes connected with his something would spark. Some tiny note of memory, a spark of feeling from deep down in her stomach would send her into his arms.

He looked down at his arms, shaking and found them empty. You lost her again, you'll never keep her. His mind chastised him, a constant negative energy that seemed to swirl around him like dark clouds.

If someone had told Niall this would be what became of the fame, he would have laughed in their face. Only a year ago Niall was on top of the world, fame and fortune rolled towards him like an unstoppable boulder. Now, well, now he was a mess. A silhouette of his former self, muscled and athletic his body was in pristine shape but his mind was lost. What used to fill his nights, music, unfinished lyrics and the deafening scream of fans was now harrowing silence.

"Niall?" Harry broke him from his thoughts, he flinched.

"I'm fine." He waved a hand nonchalantly but didn't look over his shoulder.

Niall couldn't stomach the way they would all be looking at him, feeling sorry for him. He was disgusted with that look, sickened by the tone of their voice. They spoke to him just how he used to speak to Harry, broken and drug addicted Harry. Fuck, the realisation struck him so hard he nearly fell to the ground.

"Why don't we–" Louis began.

Niall shook his head, "I can't!" He called after them.

Suddenly, a wave of determination rolled through his veins like a hit of drugs. His cheeks flushed and his eyes stung from so many tears shed. His vision was a little blurry from all the alcohol but Niall was overrun with hope.

Realising just how alike he was to broken Harry, to the Harry that scared them all was like a bucket of ice to his skin. How could you become that?

Niall rushed past the security that stood at the edge of the rooftop, he barely caught Louis' calling after him as he slammed his hands into the wooden doors leading to the stairwell. He took the stairs two at a time, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

The sound of his friends was drowned out by his own thoughts, her name screaming in his mind over and over. Dakota was on repeat in his thoughts and dreams. Holding her in his arms, haunted him. The lost hope of ever finding her again, was like poison and killed him one day at a time.

Niall hadn't even realised how fucked up he'd become, how bad he'd let himself get until he saw the look of fear and worry in Harry's big eyes. Niall remembered, with horror, how he felt when he found Harry bleeding on the hotel bed. How he'd felt when he stayed awake all night next to Harry's bed, terrified that Harry would finally overdose.