The Runaway Bride (a Niall Horan fanfic)

Deep Shit

Chapter 7 - Deep Shit

**Ellie’s point of view**

I watch as Harry sits on the bench beside me, fidgeting with his long, slender fingers. He put enough distance between us as if he were scared of me and that moment all I was thinking of was: he should be.

I mean, sure, I was attracted to him, physicality wise and personality wise. He was a good guy, charming and fun, and don’t get me started on his fucking appearance. There was a reason after all why he was called the main heartthrob of One Direction. But I just hated how my life was getting so fucked up recently. Surprises and problems thrown at every corner, I had enough to worry about I didn’t need this and certainly he didn’t give any hint that I was his girlfriend.

I had plenty reason to get angry, reasons that were justifiable but one I couldn’t quite place. A reason sprung from worry. Worry on what Niall may think. I hadn’t gotten to talk to him in private since we were all clustered in a group during the night and he hadn’t said much during dinner which was odd. He was always so roudy. But I stopped myself from overthinking and thought maybe he was just tired. But still. I worried on what the blonde boy thought, I didn’t want him to think I was Harry’s girlfriend and wanting this was so strange because I shouldn’t be.

But here I was.

“Um..,” Harry starts, clearing his throat and interrupting me of my pscho-babble.

“I’m waiting,” I let him know and he finally looks at me with those gorgeous green eyes. I told myself not to get distracted.

“Look, I haven’t been in a steady relationship for a couple years now, I’ve never brought a girl home and it’s just...it really bugs my mum. She’s worried, what with all these rumors are saying. I just wanted to let her know some way that I was fine and I was...behaving well,” he says. I could tell he was choosing his words carefully.

“Behaving well?” I question, raising an eyebrow.

“You know,” he says with a sigh as if it was obvious.

“No I don’t know. Not everyone reads all that stuff about you, you know,” I tell him. And honestly, I made it a point not to read all of it. None of it. Because I didn’t want anything to do with Niall Horan before.

Before.

He smiles lopsidedly. “That’s one of the reasosn why I like you.”

“Uhm. Harry, out of topic,” I remind him.

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. Just explain better.”

“Okay.”

“Alright then.”

I wait for him to continue. He looks down at his hands again and breathes deeply. 

“Everyone thinks I’m a playboy. They assume I flirt and sleep with girls left and right and...that’s not me. I admit I’m cheeky but I am serious when it comes to...love and relationships,” he admits, looking at me again and I feel my anger lessen.

“You’re a sap,” I comment and he smiles again.

“I am a sap,” he admits. “I just wanted to show my mum someone, you know? To visualize.”

“And so you thought of me,” I say. “But Harry, it was so sudden. You could’ve at least told me. Maybe we could’ve arranged something? And isn’t it ironic that you say you’re serious about those things but here you are, lying?”