Uneasy Hearts Weigh the Most {Niam}

Thirteen-

{feel free to shout at me. I know I'm horrible at what I do. well, happy holidays!}

Funny how things were getting so hard to hide.

Actually, no - it wasn't funny at all. It sucked, a lot. The abuse as a whole was enough all on its' own, but with things added on top of it, it was Niall's worst nightmare. He had never dreamed that he'd be in such an awkward turmoil in his life.

This was easily one of the worst parts of his young life. Mitch was supposed to be a sort of happiness for him, and he wasn't - for the most part, that is. Yes, he knew that he probably shouldn't be with the other lad, and he knows that he's not just hurting himself, but he'll end up hurting the people that he loves - and that's really no better than what Mitch is doing.

Still, you have to give him some credit - he can see some good, albeit very little good, in his boyfriend.

Mitch did love Niall, and Niall did love Mitch. No matter what his older counterpart did, or said, he loved him. Tough love, he supposed it was. He knew it was wrong, honestly, and he knew that he should tell somebody about what's going on - it didn't have to be someone in his family, either; he was just so sick of hiding from people. He didn't lie, exactly - okay, he knew he was lying, but Mitch put it as, "avoiding the truth".

And his boyfriend wasn't a terribly bad guy, when you got right down to it. There were worse people in the world than Mitch. He didn't drink, or kill people, or steal things. He just got angry, and Niall perfectly understood that people could get mad - he just wished that Mitch wouldn't take out all of his aggression on him.

Niall guessed that it was just because he was a bad boyfriend. It was horrible to think of, horrible to even suggest, but he couldn't come up with any other explanations. People didn't just hit other people because they felt like it, or because they were bored. They had reasons.

Niall didn't know what kind of reasons Mitch had for doing what he did, and he wasn't sure that he ever would. And it's not like Mitch hit him everyday, or anything like that - just when Niall did something wrong. That's not the reason that Niall tries so hard to achieve perfection, because even before Mitch had first laid a harmful hand on him, the blonde had wished to be picture perfect. He wanted to be the complete package - not for anyone else, but for himself.

His whole family is filled with gorgeous, perfect people. His parents, his aunt and uncle, even Liam was perfection on legs. And Niall's not going to complain about what he has, because he has a lot. He's athletic, he's smart, he knows his way around a conversation. Girls think he's cute, and Mitch thinks he's beautiful. He's a pretty handy with his guitar, and his voice hasn't failed him, either. He doesn't think it's odd to want to be even better, because it's not. Throughout the years, he's learned that humans purposely set high goals for themselves, and will strive to achieve them at all costs. It's completely normal.

The whole thing is an enigma. Niall's thoughts continue to contradict themselves. He was so unsure of himself, no matter how hard he tried to just settle on one thing and one thing only. He found it to be increasingly difficult. Yet, no matter how hard he attempted to push these thoughts away, the more they came back to him.

In fact, he hardly noticed it when Mitch's leg bumped into his underneath the table.

"Ouch," the blonde murmured, rather irritably. He looked up at his boyfriend, sitting across the table with a raised eyebrow. He appeared to have asked a question that Niall apparently missed. "Did you say something? I kind of zoned out."

"I could tell," Mitch shrugged, and looked down at his menu. "I asked what you wanted."

Niall had been so lost in thought that he hadn't even glanced at his food options. Truth be told, he'd rather be home with his parents, eating one of Harry's home-cooked dinners. The thought made him regret accepting Mitch's dinner invitation, but that made him feel stupid. He was at a nice dinner with his boyfriend, and he was going to enjoy himself.

"Um, no clue," Niall answered truthfully, biting at his lip. "What about you?"

Mitch slid his phone out of his front pocket, and quickly unlocked it. "Good question. I was thinking about pasta, but that's a bit generic."

Niall almost rolled his eyes.

He yawned out loud, unable to hold it in much longer. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately, and the exhaustion was beginning to take its' toll. He felt like a bloody rhinoceros, and probably didn't look much better. He was aware of the dark circles under his eyes.

Yet, the dark circles were the least of his worries. Upon his exit of the locker room, he had noticed that his bruise was visible. A little more than visible, actually, as it looked like a splotch of ink on his face. It was dark blue, purple, and red, and it was still sore. He knew it was gross, and he knew it would attract unwanted attention, so he tried to keep his head down as much as possible.

"Sounds like someone needs a nap," Mitch teased, cooing at Niall like he was four years old. It did, however, bring the slightest bit of a smile to the blonde's face. "How much sleep have you been getting the past few days, anyway?"

"Not a lot," Niall shrugged, and took a quick drink of his water. He wished he had ordered something with sugar and caffeine in it, like Mitch. Still, he didn't want to be up all night, either - he wanted to go to sleep the second he got home. "I mean, I can fall asleep, but...I tend to wake myself up during the middle of the night, and I can't go back to sleep after that. Too many noises, and whatnot. Too much to think about."

"Night brings out the worst in us," Mitch agreed, nodding his head and sliding his phone back into his pocket. Niall regrets not asking for the time when he had the chance. He'd take out his own phone to check, but he didn't want to see the damages done to his messages and voicemail. "It's real shitty when you're trying to sleep, but then you end up thinking about something bad that happened, and then you go on this little journey through your mind of all the times you fucked up. Just a minute or two of that can make the rest of your night, and the next day, ruined."

Niall went silent, as if he had been stunned. He never expected Mitch to understand - don't ask him why, it just doesn't sound like something Mitch would ponder during the late hours. Nevertheless, the blonde's curiosity had been peaked.

"I know," he nodded solemnly. He spent those hours thinking of his boyfriend, of course he knew. "I know what you're talking about, I mean. I kind of just lay there and think about it for awhile, and um...sometimes I'll start to, like, cry. It's really pathetic, but...it can be enough to give me a panic attack sometimes, and..."

Mitch reached across the table to take Niall's hand in his own.

"It's hard, baby, I know," he almost whispered, and their eyes locked. Niall's mind began to go blank, as he could only think about the moment. It was just him and Mitch, no one else. It was as if the room disappeared, leaving only the two of them to deal with their inner demons, and do it alone. No distractions. No limits. They were finally going to talk about it. "It's not fair, and I'm sorry. But I...I don't know, it's just hard. I just want you to be okay, and I know I'm not helping."

A thin layer of ice coated Niall's stomach. No matter how much he wanted an explanation, he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe he didn't want an excuse.

Maybe he just wanted things to be normal once more.