Black Mail

Lies

"I know you didn't paint that." Harry's voice startled me. I jumped off my bed, still avoiding his eyes.

"Merrie did it."

"Of course," and just like that, before I could say another word he was out of my room, closing his own door behind him.

Just him saying that infuriated me. I stormed out of my room, over to his, not bothering to knock. I waltzed right in, slamming the door shut behind me. I felt the floor shake a little. I turned back to his door, locking it for good measure. Night was falling quickly, and I had no idea who would be home soon, and who would come knocking. I wasn't taking any chances that someone was going to interrupt.

I turned back to Harry crossly, leaning against the door to be as far from his as possible so as not to punch him. He simply sat on bed, a magazine in his hands, staring at me with one eyebrow raised. "What was that for?"

"You and I, we need to have a little chat." I snarled, pointing an angry finger at him.

"Alright then," he snapped his magazine shut, tossing it on his bedside table with a leer. "Go ahead! Speak!"

I shifted uncomfortable against the door. Now what was I supposed to say? I excepted his anger, almost wanted him to yell at me, tell me what a prick I had been. Instead he sat there patiently, waiting.

"I- you must be angry with me?" I started, feeling the uneasiness filling the space between us.

"I'm not angry Niall. I just don't understand..." He trailed off slowly, uncertainly.

"Understand what?" Snapping, I had to take a step back. I didn't want to fight. I hated it, especially with him. He was always so good at playing the victim. He was always so good at making everyone else feel like utter trash next to him. The angel boy he was. He always won in a fight. Always. And me, I was always the wrong one.

"You've been acting funny. Have I done something? Did I say something to upset you?"

There it was, his victimhood. He was making me feel guilty. The distraught look etched into the lines on his face almost broke me, as it most often did. He looked helpless, hunched in on himself, leaning against the wall, looking up at me with big concerned eyes.

Adding more before I could fish for a reply, he spat it almost violently. "Is it Zayn? Because if it is that can solved immediately. He can out in seconds flat. I'll talk to Lou. I'll make him make Zayn go away, and everything can go back to Niall. Are you angry he's here? Are you still pissed off that we made you bring him here?"

"Stop it!" I growled, so over come with emotion that when I started it all came pouring out. "Stop blaming him. It has nothing to do with him. I offered, he took the opportunity- just like you all wanted. You don't get to go back on your words. You did this. You started it! You wanted him the most, from the beginning. You. Made. Me. Everything- all of this is your fault. You started this! You wanted him so badly you literally made me do this. Sometimes I actually hate you. You make me do whatever you want, and I have no power to stop you! Just like in college. I bent over backwards for you, no matter what it cost or meant to me! It's always been like this!" I was surprised at the fire searing in the back of my throat, and the stinging behind my eyes. I would not cry. I would not let him see this.

He sat there, staring at me with bulging eyes, his mouth wide open. He was literally speechless.

"Dammit Harry!" I slammed my hand against the door behind me, dropping my head to stare at the floor as the tears started slipping. I couldn't have this conversation with him without getting the burnt end of the stick. At the end of the day I relied on him, for everything. He had always been there, because I had always given in to him, and that made him stick around. We were unhealthy. So unhealthy, and yet I could never walk away from him. Never. I wanted to hate him, but knew I never could.