Devotion [h.s]

269

^roughly how big briar would be rn^

Day 48 without Amelia

Niall Horan

I knock for the third time on the front door, loosing my patience because still Harry isn't answering.

"This is bullshit." Louis scuffles to my left.

"You start knocking now, my knuckles are hurting." I look down at the back of my hand, rubbing it with the other one.

"Oh Niall's little knuckles starting to get boo boos?" Louis mocks in a childish voice, pushing the bottom lip out.

"Don't be a dick you know I have sensitive skin." I furrow my brows.

"How the hell did you ever get involved in a gang? You're little the epitome of a soccer mom." He mumbles before going to start knocking on the door.

"Hey!" I bark in offence.

"Styles open the fucking door before I have to talk to Niall any longer!" He bangs his fists hard on the front door and shouts, making me look around in defence of anyone walking by because there were actually other houses on this street.

"Fuck it I'm going in." Louis throws in the metaphorical towel, entering the code to get into the house.

"What if he's in the shower or something? He doesn't know were coming over." I ask out of respect of his privacy.

"Well then we throw ice over the shower curtain on him in consequence of making us wait out here." Louis says while opening the door up.

We walk inside and immediately I see the mess that his living room has became. There were baby toys all over the floor around the room and the coffee table had trash and beer bottles all over it. The television was on some kids channel but no one was in here watching it.

"Harry?" I yell out through the house, both of us staying silently still in order to hear if he responds but we get nothing.

"Is he even here?" Louis furrows his brows.

"His car is in the driveway. When was the last time you saw him?" I asked.

"Not since a week after Amelia was put in the hospital. You?" He replied.

"About two weeks ago." I mumbled back, feeling kinda guilty because neither of us have came by to check on him since now. I've texted him a few times to ask him about the meeting he went to but I only ever get short to no replies.

"He's drinking again." I said while walking further into the living room to look at the empty beer bottles on the table.

"Was he not before?" Louis asked.

"Well he did socially, but never at home anymore. He hasn't bought actual beer since he lived underground." I state, looking at the table, my eyes narrow to the empty carton of cigarettes.

"He's smoking too, chain smoking by the looks of it." I pick up the empty pack, seeing there was more of them on the table.

"Hopefully not in the house with the kid." Louis murmurs.

"Hopefully not." I agree while turning my eyes around the room.

I start hearing Briar's familiar babbling mumbles coming from the other room. Hearing that noise sparked action in me with a bit of nervousness, it was coming from the kitchen. I exchange looks with Louis before we both headed into that direction.

I walked into the kitchen and the first thing I saw was the mess that was worse then the living room. Within that mess was Briar sitting in her high chair with food all over herself, smeared on her face and all over her clothes and hair. And next to her was Harry sitting at the island with his forehead on the counter. He was knocked out, hopefully not dead because he didn't look conscious at all.