Pain is Just a Simple Compromise (One Direction Fan Fiction)

Chapter 7- The Morning After

I jerk awake, completely confused and disorientated. Then the memories of last night collapse on me, and I curl into the couch full of shame and guilt, wanting to never get up.

"So you're finally awake then?" comes a voice from somewhere behind me.

"No. Sorry. Come back later." Louis chuckles, and I turn and look at him; he's sat on the floor watching T.V. Rude much?

"Oh my..." He catches sight of me and gasps at my lip. A sudden wave of pain washes over me and I wince.

"Is it that bad?" I yawn painfully and sit up, pulling the duvet with me so I stay covered.

"Urmm, just a bit..." He reaches up to touch my lip.

"Piss off!" I flick him playfully, and he flinches away. Fabulous; he's scared of me.

"So, were you planning on getting up anytime soon?" He laughs, covering up the awkward moment.

"Maybe. Is everyone else up?"

"Yeah, it's midday! Even Harry's up!" I wince slightly at his name.

"Is he okay? How's his leg? Has he said anything."
"Yes, his leg is bruised and quite painful but he'll be fine, and, uh, no..." He tries to hold my gaze and fails.

"What did he say?" I sigh.

"Nothing, really... just that he regrets last night and to tell him when you're up so he can, um, go and hide."

"Great." My eyes fill with tears, but I ignore them.

"Sorry babe." Louis looks at me, his eyes flashing with guilt and concern." Um, he's in the kitchen, so..."
"Okay, I'll get dressed and go talk to him. Just don't tell him, and for God's sake don't let him out of the house, please?"

"Okay." Louis gets up and kisses my cheek and then leaves to give me some privacy. I grab my stuff, put my dressing gown on, and then I make a mad dash to the bathroom. Luckily no one's in here, so I lock myself in. I turn the shower on, and then turn to the mirror. Holy mother of God... I think to myself. No wonder Louis reacted like that...

My lip is twice the size it should be, and there's a slit on the right corner. It's an angry purple color, and I wonder how I've been able to talk. I guess I was so focused on Harry that I didn't register how much pain I'm in.

I have a quick, hot shower, and when I get out I feel relaxed, refreshed and ready to face everyone. I get dressed and leave my t-shirt till last, remembering how much effort it was to not catch my lip when I took my pajama top off. I slowly slide my arms in and then carefully pull it over my head.

"SHIT!" I scream, hitting my lip with my hand in my effort to... well... not hit my lip.

"Are you okay in there?" comes a familiar Irish voice from the other side of the bathroom door. I pull my shirt down and then I unlock the door. Niall pushes it open and I cover my mouth with my hand.

"Yep, fine thanks." I say from behind my hand, the pain in my lip now impairing my speech.

"No you're not." Niall smiles reassuringly and then he grabs my hand and pulls me closer. "Let me have a look."
"Nope, I'm fine." I shake my head, and he nods. I relax slightly, and he abruptly yanks my hand from my mouth.

"Jesus!" I start to turn away, but he grips my shoulders with both hands and keeps me rooted.

"I just hit it when I was putting my shirt on..."

"I gathered." He grimaces. I feel something warm trickling down my chin, and when I tentatively touch my lip I find blood.

"Fuck." My mouth rapidly fills with blood, and I pull away and spit it into the sink. Niall runs the cold tap, sticks my flannel underneath, and then folds it into a perfect square.

"This is gonna hurt." I nod and close my eyes. Niall takes my hand, and then presses the cold flannel firmly to my lips, stemming the blood flow and trying to reduce the swelling. I squeeze his hand tightly and hold back a scream.

"Okay, maybe you should go to the hospital and get stitches or something...?" he says. I move the flannel so I can speak.

"Nah, it's not that bad. I'll be fine." I squeeze his hand and then shakily press the flannel back to my lip. "Thanks."

"No prob. You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah." He hugs me and then walks out. I gather my stuff with one hand, still holding the flannel to my now throbbing lip with the other hand, and then I make my way back to the family room. I hide my stuff behind the chair, tidy up as best I can with one hand, and then take a deep breath.

"Okay." I say to myself, slowly walking to the kitchen and stopping in front of the door. "Here goes." I open the door and find all of the boys sat around the table eating their lunch except for Harry, who is cleaning up. I stand in the doorway, unsure of what to do, and then Liam looks up.

"Hey." He waves at me, raising an eyebrow at the bright green flannel that's still pressed to my lip. All of the boys at the table look up, but I'm completely focused on Harry, who's trying not to notice me. I watch him limping around the kitchen and a wave of irrepressible guilt washes over me. I feel like a right bitch.

Harry feels my eyes on him and slowly looks up at me. When he catches sight of the flannel pressed to my lip, he winces. Then we catch each other's eyes and all our problems melt away into nothingness; we're best friends, and we shouldn't be acting like this. He puts down the plate and tea towel in his hands and holds out his arms to me. I hesitate for a split second before running into his arms and burying myself in his warm embrace. Tears slide down my cheeks, and Harry kisses my forehead.

"Let's never do that again, yeah?" he whispers softly into my ear. I nod, still unable to speak. He squeezes me tight, careful not to bash my lip, and I snuggle closer, not wanting to let go. Oh God, did I make the right decision last night? Or do I really belong with Harry?