The Fighter

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven 

As Niall promised, Nixon called an hour later to tell us where we would be staying and that it was all paid for. So we trudged through the rain again, only to stay at some five-star hotel that I wasn’t sure my life-savings could have paid for. As soon as we’d arrived, people from the gym and venue came to us, asking us how we were or apologizing. I gripped Niall’s shirt, ignoring them and following he and Nixon into the elevator. When we got there, I broke apart from Niall, who was in deep conversation with Nixon, and took my phone out as I leaned against the wall. I scrolled through my twitter feed, knowing that I would never have done this if I didn’t want to avoid conversation. I chewed on my lip, trying to ignore Nixon asking Niall what was wrong with me. He just grumbled a response, and I rolled my eyes. 

The bell dinged and the doors opened, allowing all three of us to step out into a quiet hallway. Nixon was chattering away to Niall in hushed tones as he led us down to where there was only one door. “Here you go.” He said, unlocking it with a keycard and swinging the door open for us. Niall walked in, throwing his bag down on the floor and plopping down in a computer chair, but I on the other hand, was actually taken back on how…fancy this place looked. 

Everything sparkled and gleamed at me, a giant bathroom situated in the far end of the room. A California King Bed stood high in the middle of the room, a canopy draped over one side. The walls were a crème, golden color, accented with red paisley. The trimming was dark, hardwood, and I was pretty sure the carpet cost more than my first house would. But I gently laid my bag down, only being snapped out of my revere when Nixon caught my arm. When I turned, he nodded his head out into the hall, and I looked over to see Niall with his eyes closed and breathing evenly in the chair. I don’t think he was asleep, but he was close to it. So quietly, I followed Nixon outside. 

“How are you?” He asked, giving me a small smile. He looked exhausted and on alert, as if he was expecting something to happen. Now that I thought about it, all the guys did. “I’m alright. How are you?” “Fine. But really, are you okay?” He seemed genuinely concerned, and that’s when I exploded. “No. Niall is really getting on my nerves and he won’t talk to me about what’s wrong with him, and then treats me like it’s my fault. I don’t know what’s up with him, and it’s so frustrating.” “Bleu, he’s worried about you-it’s possible Darren will be there, and he’ll have to trust Liam and the other guys to take care of you.” My stomach twisted at the name, and I blushed. “But he should know-” “He does, but that doesn’t stop him from worrying. He really cares about you, Bleu.” Nixon said, his tone comforting but stern. “I know.” I said, looking down. “Just give him time. But, what I wanted to tell you was that I’m going to let him sleep for a long time, like, until two. And he’ll do it. So, until I call or text, just make sure he’s asleep, please, Love?” He asked, and I nodded, wondering just what that would imply. “Do whatever you have to do tonight to wear him out, okay?” He winked, and I scoffed at him, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks at the innuendo. He laughed, and gathered me in his arms. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” He said, and I nodded before pulling away. “Goodnight, Nixon.” “Remember; anything!” He said, and I flipped him off before shutting the door. 

Niall was still in his chair, breathing even and deep. I sighed, pushing Nixon’s words out of my mind as I walked over to him, running a hand over his shoulder. He jumped slightly, his hot skin a complete contrast to the coolness of my palm. “C’mon, Ni, let’s go to bed.” I said, nodding my head to the monster that awaited us. With his eyes locked to mine, he stood up, following me as I walked backwards until my knees hit the edge of the bed. I climbed up, scooting to the opposite side and shucking the sweatshirt that dwarfed me. I heard him take a deep breath, and when I looked, he was peeling off his black t-shirt, and threw it in some unknown part of the room.  He crawled onto the bed, throwing back the covers before he clicked the lamp off and sunk into the cloud-like matress. It was the most comfortable thing I’d probably ever laid on, and I knew that I would get a good night’s rest. Niall, on the other hand, was already tossing and turning. I heard his frustrated sigh as he flipped over, punching the pillow. “Niall.” I said in the darkness, my voice small and soft. He stilled, then turned toward me, his body a silhouette in the darkness. “Come here.” I said, reaching for his forearms. Hesitantly, he slid over to me, and I coaxed his head down to rest on my shoulder. Our movements were small and subtle, and I knew neither of us wanted to upset the other with even a wrong move. It was nice to know that he’d had enough of the fighting, too.