Forever & Always - (One Direction, Narry)

Chapter 8: All The Things He Said

- Harry -

I drove Niall to his flat in London a bit slower than normal; I was indeed a bit tipsy and didn't want to risk driving fast on the busy streets of London. I was much more sobered up than Niall was, though. Anyone with eyes could see that. I have hardly ever seen him drunk because Liam always offered to take him home whenever he got like this or whenever we went out for drinks.

It took a long while for me to convince Niall that we were outside of his flat instead of outside of a prison. Truth be told, I told him that we were outside of a bakery instead of his house so he could go in. It worked, too.

"Harry, you fucking liar," Niall shouted as I shut the door behind me and inhaled the warm scent of his flat.

I rolled my eyes; he's said the F word seventeen times already. "How am I a liar?"

"I don't see any fucking cake." Make that eighteen. "You don't just joke around with an Irishman about his fucking cake, man."

I chuckled as Niall slowely descended onto the couch in a slurry mess. "Sorry, Niall. We could bake a cake if you want."

"Nah, I don't have the ingrediants," he mumbled, rubbing his face tiredly.

I examined him; eyeing him over carefully as he groaned in agony. Although drunk Niall was extremely funny, I don't like seeing this innocent blue-eyed wonder in pain. "Do you need an icepack or anything?"

He shrugged. "No, mate. I'm fine."

"Bullshit." I quickley pushed myself up and made my way into the kitchen. I filled up a small plastic bag with ice chips just as a crash rang in my ears. I groaned again, tied the bag in a knot, and came back to the sitting area where Niall was.

His eyes were on the broken vase that was previously on the coffee table; but was now on the ground. "Um, someone dropped that..."

I only laughed. "Niall, lay down."

"Don't get tempted."

"Now why would I do that?" I asked with an amused glint in my eyes as I forced him down onto the couch. I could tell that he wanted to laugh, but his cruel headache prevented it. Niall reached up to grab the icepack, but I swatted his hands away.

Pushing him over gently, I sat on the remaining area of the sofa beside him and slowely placed the cold bag on his forehead. He moaned in pleasure at the cool contact on his warm, pale skin, which made me laugh.

"Hold it right there," I told him. "Don't move; I'll be right back."

Niall did as he was told and reached up to hold the bag in place as I released it. "Where are you going? Don't leave me here like this."

I chuckled. He wanted me here. No, he needed me here. "Relax. I'm just going to ring up my mum and tell her that I'm okay."

"Oh..." Niall mumbled, his face was flushed a red-ish color. "Tell Anne that I said hello... And that I love her."

I rolled my eyes again. "I am not telling her that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's my mum!"

"Awh, are you jealous?"

"Of what?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the Irish boy laying restlessly on the couch.

Niall gave me a funny look. "Of my relationship with your mum."

"You don't have a relationship with my mum!" I exclaimed, a bit disgusted. Although, it was quite funny.

Niall winked at me. "That's what you think."

"Niall, shut up and go to sleep. I'll be right back."