A Hopeless Addiction // Niall Horan

Chapter Four

Oh god. I fucked up. I definitely fucked up again. Shit. What time is it? And where am I? Cold tile floor...bathroom. Don't open your eyes. You don't want to see the mess you made. Just stay right here.

        But I did open my eyes—to a razor next to me, dried blood on and around it, and newly-scabbed cuts on my thigh that I could barely cover. Last night had been blown so far out of proportion, and now I was in a state that I was already regretting. How easily I had broken down in front of everyone...and ruined my record. A knock came on the door.

        "One second!" I called, scrambling to clean up the dried blood.

        I ran into the bedroom, tugging down the skirt of my dress, and slipped the razor back into its case. It was tossed into my suitcase as I darted to the door. Easily stabilising myself, I opened the door. Niall was there, his eyes worried, and he held up a McDonald's bag and one of their frozen coffees.

        "Mara said their chips are your favourite," he informed me. "And that you like the chocolate chip drink."

        I faked a smile. Food was the last thing I wanted at the moment, but I took the back and drink anyway. Niall followed my actions, closing the door behind him, as I went inside and sat on the floor.

        "So...are you okay? Do you need anything?" he asked.

        "No, this is fine. Thank you," I replied, ignoring the bag completely and just drinking the coffee.

        "Do you want me to leave?"

        Niall looked at me with those adorable puppy dog eyes. I immediately protested and threw my arms around him.

        "No! I don't want you to ever leave. I am so sorry, Niall. I'm being stupid."

        "You're not stupid, love," he replied, stroking my hair as he buried his face in my neck in his famous way.

        Niall's hand gripped my thigh. I bit down hard on my lip as he pulled me onto his lap, irritating the new cuts. The fabric would definitely rub them open again if I didn't stop him. A gasp escaped my lips, and my hand flew down on top of his. Niall pulled away. His fingers were already inspecting my leg. Both of our gazes went to the skin that my dress was now exposing. His hand had a bit of blood on it. My eyes squeezed shut. Niall and I were about to be over, and we hadn't even started.

        "Why?" he asked.

        I took a deep breath. "Last night...when everyone wanted me to get into the pool. It triggered me. I shouldn't have even said the thing about skinny dipping. All my noticeable scars are on my fat fucking thighs, and I didn't want any of you to see such an ugly part of me. They're my worst feature—fat and scarred up."

        Niall cupped my chin in one of his hands. I forced myself to open my eyes and look at him. A couple tears were falling down his cheeks.

        "Nothing about you is fat or ugly," he stated firmly. "Not one damn thing. This cutting thing...it's a part of you. It don't make you ugly... But I'm gonna help you stop it."

        "You don't have to—" I started, but Niall pulled me in for a very brief kiss, which shut me up immediately. He kept his hand under my chin and kept looking in my eyes.

        "I want to be your rock. I'll take care of you, be your saviour."

        "You already are, Niall," I replied. "But what if I can't take care of you? What if something bad happens? I can't just jump on the first plane to Ireland. Do you know how guilty I would feel—not being able to be there for you—how hypocritical?" I took his hand in both of mine with a sigh. "Niall, you are my world and so much more, but if I can't live up to that...then what?"