Little Things - A One Direction Fanfiction

ONE

The lights have grown far, far too bright for me. 

The music is paralyzing, blaring throughout the entire house, thrumming through my bones. Almost intoxicating. But the air has begun to smell like beer and cigarettes, which means it's time for me to leave. 

I brace myself for shouldering my way through the mass of people, all dancing, jumping, enchanted with simply being alive. Dodging flying hands and arms and elbows, I leave the safety of the kitchen counter, I begin to make my way towards the first door I can find, my head pounding.

The floor is littered with plastic cups, paper plates, and ping pong bolls, forgotten and unimportant. I feel vaguely bad for the extremely unlucky person that will undoubtedly be stuck cleaning their entire house tomorrow. Hannah Myers, I think her name is- her parents are out of town for the weekend, and now her house is entirely trashed. 

I've almost reached the safety of the front door when I feel a tug on my arm. Whirling around, I'm greeted with the completely and totally drunk face of Kaitlyn Harbridge. A guy I have never seen before in my entire life trails behind her at an awkward distance, not knowing whether to stay with Kaitlyn or return to the sea of people.

I'd almost advise him to do the latter. 

Kaitlyn is my best friend, the person I'm closest to in the world. She means more to me than anyone else. But God, right now, she is so, so drunk. 

Plastering on the fastest smile I can manage, I give her a halfhearted wave, struggling to come up with any valid excuse for why I had tried to leave without saying goodbye.

"Hey," her voice is unsteady, accusatory. I can smell the alcohol on her breath. "Why'd you try to leave, Eva?" The words slur together, separated only by Kaitlyn's occasional stumbling. "Not nice."

"Sorry," I pretend to be apologetic. "I just have the worst headache right now. The music isn't particularly helping."

Kaitlyn furrows her brows. "Just... Just have a drink! I- I can find..." She looks around wildly for anything she can give me. I interrupt her before she can find something. 

"You know, Kaitlyn, I actually have to drive home. Crashing doesn't sound super appealing to me right now, if I'm being honest."

Rolling her eyes, Kaitlyn lets out a laugh. "Relax. You worry too much, Eva. I can drive you. I drive you all the time, it'll be fine." 

Biting my lip, I shake my head. "I think I'll have to pass on that one," I tell her with sarcastic regret. "I don't really have time to die today."

She opens her mouth to protest once more, but before she can, another girl breaks away from the crowd and throws her arm around Kaitlyn, yelling something I can't understand. My friend turns away from me, laughing once more, and I reach blindly for the doorknob, searching for a way out of the house I've been trapped in. 

The first thing I feel is the cool nighttime air on my face, a star kissed wind against my face. I breathe it in, a welcomed change from sweaty teenagers and cigarette smoke. For a moment, I am able to lose myself in it. 

And then the headache comes back, splitting me apart, and the smell of alcohol won't leave and I need to get away from here.

My feet crunch against gravel as I let the door swing closed behind me. The walk towards my car feels like forever, the miles of autumn night swallowing me whole. 

But then my hand opens the car door and a blast of spearmint air freshener fills reaches my nose and am finally calm.

Parties give me headaches. Every single time. The earth orbits around the sun, night forever follows day, and parties will always give me headaches. But still, I go, and I haven't quite been able to figure out why.

My car starts with a familiar hum, and I am glad to drive away from Hannah Myers' house, away from the music and the lights. 

The vast expanse of empty road back to my house is soothing, in a way. I let it blend with the night sky until I feel alone in the world.

Right now, that is the most comforting thing to be. 

But I'm not paying attention and I'm not quite alone and my car has begun to drift. 

And I'm not able to stop it in time. 

There is no loud, dramatic noise, no flash of bright white light. 

There is only a brief pause. 

A pause, and then a resume, and my car is sliding off the road and I don't really know where I am or where the other car has gone.

Suddenly I feel a little too alone. 

 I do not find myself screaming or crying. Instead, I am still inside of my car. My hands are still on the wheel. The stars are still shining bright above my head.

I can still smell the spearmint. 

It takes me a second to remember how to breathe, to remember how to move. 

I feel like I should hurt more than I do. But now, I don't feel anything. Just the aftermath of a terror that for a brief moment had drowned me with it. 

But I am still alive, and I remember how to breathe.

Shit. 

I unbuckle my seatbelt with a trembling hand, all sense of strength gone. I let my fingers linger against the handle of the car door, scared of what will await me once I leave the safety of my own car.

And then I get out. 

I have prepared myself for the worst, for the sight of crumpled metal and scattered pieces. But the other car is in one piece, and someone is getting out of it, and we are both okay. 

"Jesus," I begin to say, my voice too quiet to make much of a difference in the silence hanging around us. I stare at the other person's car, at the large dent marring the red paint. An occasional car passes by us, disrupting the quiet of the night. I have no clue what I can say to fix this, what I'm supposed to say.  "I am so sorry. I don't- I don't know what happened. Are you okay?" 

It's a dumb question, but it's all I can find within myself to ask. I can't manage to bring myself to look at the person standing in front of me.

After a beat of silence, they finally speak. "Yeah, yeah, I'm... I'm okay, I'm fine."

The voice sounds oddly familiar, and finally, I look up. 

And once again, I lose my breath. 

"Are you okay?" Harry Styles asks me.