Lost at Sea || Niall Horan (In Editing)

Chapter 8

Erica’s POV

“Why are we having a sleepover?” I asked absentmindedly taking off my dress and searching for my pajamas only to find them beneath Chrissy. 

“You’re sitting on my clothes.” I said pushing Chrissy off the bed, she landed on the carpet.

“I didn’t want to sleep on my own knowing that One Direction is just here. Plus I couldn’t be bothered explaining to my Dad where I was.” I laughed,

“Naughty girl. Underage and at a bar” I tutted.

“Oi you’re no better.”

“Touché my friend, touché.” I slipped into my tweedy silk shorts and my rolling stones tee.

“I call dibs the left side of the bed.” She squealed diving under the doona, I groaned.

“But Chrissy you know that’s my spot.” She shrugged,

“Not tonight.”

“Fine.” I growled climbing in beside her.

“Nightey night Ez.”

“Night Chrissy.” Within minutes I was fast asleep.

~~~

I woke to the sound of a door creaking open. I looked at my bedside clock, 2:35. Christina was fast asleep beside me. I sat up and heard the door slam shut. It was my door.

“Who, who’s there?” I asked, there was silence, no reply from the intruder. I was suddenly afraid. Surely the boys would be too tired to be awake. I had heard Liam, Louis and Niall talking to Danielle for many hours after I left. Zayn would be out like a light from the alcohol.

Harry was left; maybe he was trying to scare Chrissy.

“Ha, Harry is that you?” No reply. There was a loud bang as who ever it was obviously walked into something.

“Seriously, Harry if that’s you I shall castrate you and hang you by your curls off the stern of the ship.” I heard a muffled laughed from somewhere in the darkness.

I saw a figure dart towards the curtains that hung around the door leading to the balcony, he or she slid them shut within a second. The moonlight still shone through the silky material. The outline of the figure was clear. It definitely wasn’t Harry, though clearly a man.

He was quite a bit taller than Harry and was well built. The muscles on his arms were tight against the sleeves of his shirt. But the one factor that gave it away was the fact he was bald. Harry definitely wasn’t bald; his curls were his signature look.

“Who, who are you?” The figure turned, the darkness concealing his identity. A low, menacing laugh filled the air,

“wouldn't you like to know.” The figure lunged for the bed, a felt his weight land on the right side of my body. Before I had a chance to react I felt a choker around my mouth, then a sudden pain in the back of my head. I slipped into darkness.