Taking Chances (Niall Horan Punk Fan-Fiction)

Chapter Thirty-Three: "Desperately"

~Niall~

By the look on Brielle's face, I could most definitely tell that she wasn't one for scary movies. Sure, the girl was strong as hell and most likely pretty dark when she's furious, but she didn't strike me as the scary movie type.

Well, that and the way her grip on my hand tightened to a bone-breaking grasp as she slowly sank into my side made me see clearly.

Claire didn't notice Brielle's face, so it only made sense when her eyebrows rose at all of us, a grin easing onto her face quickly. So she was the scary movie girl. How odd it was to see the girly-girl be a scary-movie-chick.

Harry shrugged, offering a smile. "Fine with me."

I glanced at Brielle, shrugging slightly. "I'm up for it."

Now it was left to Brielle, who still seemed frightened. Except now, she was almost pale as a ghost. Her grip was not only turning her knuckles white, but I slowly felt my circulation fading away and my hand grow cold. I wanted to mention it to her, though I decided that if I wanted to keep my hand, I'd keep my mouth shut.

Brielle nervously laughed, giving a shaky shrug. I could tell she was hoping no one noticed the nature of her actions, even if it was likely all of us had figured it out.

"I think it's... it's a good idea... yeah, a good idea," she breathed, as she lifted her other hand and gripped onto my shirt, accidentally catching the skin under the fabric. I flinched, but of course she didn't notice.

"Yay," Claire cheered, completely oblivious to the obvious signs of Brielle's discomfort. "I've already decided the film we're going watch."

"You did?" Brielle squeaked, grilling my shirt and hand even tighter. By now, my entire arm was numb and I'm sure my shirt was starting to tear.

"The Conjuring."

Brielle's face grew entirely pale, more pale than before. I swear had I not grabbed her waist and held her tightly to me, she would have fallen out.

"Let's go," Claire said, grasping Harry's hand and pulling him to the ticket booth. Brielle turned to me, her eyes pleading.

"Niall, please," she whispered. "Don't let them take me into that theatre. Please."

"Brielle, it's just a movie."

She shook her head and her grip grew tighter. "I hate scary movies, Niall. There isn't even the oldest, cheesiest, stupidest scary movie that doesn't scare me. I can't go in there."

I took her face in my hands and kissed her gently, temporarily taking her fear away.

"Look," I said. "If you get scared, just let me know and I'll make sure to hold you, okay? I promise you, I'm there."

"Swear on your soul?"

"I swear."

She stared into my eyes, searching for even the tiniest sign that I was lying or just pulling her leg, and found only truth. So she sighed and pressed her lips to mine as quick as I had her.

"I love you."

"And I love you."

I took her hand and we walked over to the line Harry and Claire had been standing in, the two also hand-in-hand. They laughed at something, I'm not sure, and turned to see we had finally joined them. Claire winked at Brielle, but Brielle glared back. I had a feeling Claire set this up on purpose, and she had something up her sleeve.

But I didn't know what it was exactly, so I couldn't warn or mention it to Brielle. I then began to wonder if Harry knew of Claire's mischievous ways, especially on this date, though decided against asking. It was none of my business, so I needed to butt out.