Taking Chances (Niall Horan Punk Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Three: "Soft-Side"

~Brielle~

"Class dismissed."

With a sigh, I brushed all of my books in my arms and walked toward the exit, but my professor stopped me.

"Ms. Payne?"

I turned swiftly, walking back with furrowed eyebrows. Normally he never mentioned my last name, mainly because it only reminded me of my brother.

Long story short, I didn't want to remember him. Not after what he did to me... to our family.

"I was wondering if I could use your recent essay on Medical Examination Processing. The Board has been searching for exceptional work on each major that this University offers, and I've read over your essay more than twice. It's exquisite, and most definitely is worth presenting to them this upcoming week."

I felt joy rush through me as I took in his words. Was my essay really worth that much to this Board? What would they think? I began to wonder if this essay would earn something for my future...

I smiled at him, unconsciously gripping my books tighter. "Of course, Mr. Green."

He stared at me, then back down at the essay he held in his hands. He'd only collected it yesterday, but he didn't mention anything to me about it until now. I guess I couldn't really blame him, though, because he had hundreds of other students to grade, and that meant less time to make decisions. I was just enormously grateful that he made time to read my essay as many times as he said he had.

"Thank you," he mumbled. "I will see you tomorrow, Ms. Payne. Have a good day."

"Bye, Mr. Green."

And with that, I fought a smile as I left the room, my arms clutching my books tightly against my chest. It was a blissful morning, and normally I would have been completely bored out of my mind sitting in that classroom. Occasionally, a paper ball would fly passed my head as I sat there, but nothing exciting had happened today.

I'd started walking toward my car, as that was the only class I had today, but my body almost froze in place when my eyes met those icy blue ones that held me every time I looked.

To be honest, I hadn't really thought much about what happened a couple nights ago. I been held up in my dorm room since then, and I couldn't even tell Claire about the incident because she had been off with Harry every night since. I knew she would be angry with me whenever she got back, because I'd left her back at the party. But can you blame me for thinking she would be alright with a more than trust-worthy Harry? I'm sure she didn't even remember me until she woke up next to him the morning after.

And besides, Claire hadn't even so much as text me to ask where I was or if I was okay. Somehow I knew she wasn't all that worried about me.

Anyway, when I woke up that morning, I almost had a heart attack. Niall's arm was wound over my waist, with his hand griping tightly on the side I was laying on. His head was hurried deep in my neck, and his breath tickled against my skin. I couldn't tell you how hard my heart beat against my chest as I tried to take in everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours.

Not only had I screamed bloody murder in the middle of the damn night, but I managed to pull Niall back to bed and hold him with me until I fell asleep.

And I woke up with him spooning me.

You can imagine how rapidly I jumped out of the bed - doing my best to keep him from awaking - and grabbed my dress. I left the moment I managed to slip my heels on and headed for my car. It was quite the walk, but I got there just in time to have half an hour to get back to my dorm and get ready for my classes.

I made it home happily and rummaged through every dresser or closet I could spot easily to find an outfit to throw on. I brushed my hair, brushed my teeth, and zoomed out of there faster than anyone could run.

I haven't spoken to Niall since that night, nor Claire, and I don't think I wanted to. I couldn't openly say anything to him when I pulled him to hold me after awakening from that horrid nightmare.

Although as I stared back into those icy blue eyes, I realized that he had no intention of leaving me alone now.

"Brielle!"

I held my breath as he jogged over to me and matched his pace with mine, a blissful smile playing on his lips.

"Hey," he greeted, his eyes lifting from his feet to mine, which so cautiously averting my gaze from the ground, up to his, and back down to the ground.

"Hi," I shyly replied, clutching my books tighter to my body.

"So..." he began, and I prayed to The Lord that he wouldn't bring up the events of a few nights ago. I prayed my ass off. "I was wondering what happened when I woke up."

I felt a bit annoyed at his curiousness toward my where-about's, seeing as how we weren't really on any friendly terms, other than the fact the he was spooning me when I woke up.

"I left," I muttered, lamely shrugging my shoulders.

"Yeah, I know... why didn't you wake me up? I could have taken you home. I felt really bad when I realized you'd walked all the way back to your car to get home."

I laughed dryly. "Okay? And why are you so worried about me?"

He seemed taken aback at my response, and be stared at me with wonder flittering around in those damned icy blue eyes as we came to the stop of my car. I turned to watch him as he continued to stare at me.

"I don't know," he replied quietly. "I just am."

"Well stop," I said, rather rudely. I wish I hadn't been so harsh in telling him so, but if it got him to jump out of my head, I would do anything. I just couldn't take the chance of letting anything become something, not after Peter...

His soft stare shifted rather alarmingly to a glare, and he stepped closer to me with a look that I nearly fell over for.

"You know what? I will. I guess it never occurred to you that maybe I was actually trying to be nice for someone, for once. But because you seem to think ignorance is bliss, well then everything falls into place. Have a nice life, Brielle."

I stared after him, taking the harshness of his voice to heart. I truly had screwed up the nice part of him that probably doesn't exist anymore, and I know that now, considering he'll probably never help me ever again. Even I'd I wake up screaming in the middle of the night, he'll never be there to help me and hold me until I fall back asleep. He'll never sooth the fright from my mind as the images scratched into my brain.

It was after I watched him disappear into the streets passed the University that I realized I'd most likely ruined the soft side of Niall Horan.