Stuck in The Moment with You [Niall Horan]

Chapter Twenty Six

“You smell like fish.”

“And you smell like puke,” I said.

“You’re being mean to a sick person, you’re a horrible person,” Niall said, his voice sounding hoarse.

“You’re the whole reason I smell like fish, wanting to go swimming in the freaking freezing ocean!” I said putting my memory card into Niall’s laptop.

“I never said you had to swim too,” he said taking a sip of his water.

“You dragged me into the water!” I said looking at him.

“You brought it upon yourself,” he shrugged.

“Okay, I gotta put 250 photos on this memory card, and I gotta make sure they’re only of you,” I said clicking through the gallery.

“What else would they be of?” He asked propping himself up on his elbow to see the screen.

“Well.. your potted plants, signs, random people, the front door greeter, the few things I take pictures of…” I said transferring some of the photos over.

“Hey, that greeter has a nice beard,” Niall said pointing to the pictures of him.

“And also, the ones you took at the beach,” I said seeing them as I scrolled through the pictures.

Neither of us said anything for a few seconds.

“I take good pictures, I should be a photographer,” Niall finally said.

I just shook my head, thankful it wasn’t as awkward as it could’ve been, and continued to transfer pictures.

“Hey, it’s been almost a half hour,” Niall said pointing to the clock on the screen.

As if someone had pressed a button, Niall made a face before jumping off the bed and running for the bathroom.

After a minute, he stopped vomiting, but didn’t come out. I waited a few minutes before finally getting off the bed and walking to the door to see him on the floor leaning against the tub.

“You alright?” I asked.

“No, I’m puking my guts out,” he said, his head resting on the side of the tub.

“You know what I meant,” I said walking over to him.

“Yeah, I’m just tired, and the tub feels cool against my skin,” he said looking up at me.

“Do you still have a fever?” I asked kneeling down to feel of his neck again.

He still felt hot, but not as bad as he had an hour ago.

“A little bit, but not bad,” I said sitting down beside him.

“You think it’ll pass in a little while?” He asked resting his head on my shoulder.

“It should. When my Dad got it, he only had it for about two hours,” I said.

“Can I ask you something? If it’s not too personal?” he asked.

“What?” I asked cautiously. 

Niall was silent for a few beats.

“What happened to your Dad?” He finally asked.

He was the first person to ask. Most people just knew my Dad had died, or had heard the gossip of him being a drunk, and gave their condolences. No one else on this trip knew my Dad was dead. Niall only knew because he’d overheard me talking with my Mom in LA.

“Car wreck,” I said quietly, “he was drunk when he made it home from his office and then he and my Mom got in a fight and he got in his car and… he didn’t make it to the next block..”

“I’m sorry…How old were you?” Niall asked, his voice soft.

“Fourteen,” I replied.

“Oh.. so.. it hasn’t been long?” He asked.

“Almost a year,” I said.

“Why did you come on this trip then?” He asked curiously.

“What do you mean ‘why’?” I asked, confused as to why he’d asked.

“Like, it hasn’t been very long. You haven’t really had time to get used to… being without him.. and cope with everything.. why did you just leave? Especially since your Mom probably needed someone.. no offense,” he said.

“None taken. My Mom had and has Adam to help her now. I was diagnosed with depression about six months after my Dad’s death and then my Mom just acted like I was contagious or something.. so she forced me to come, probably thinking once I’m back I’ll be better,” I said.

“So you didn’t want to come?” He asked.

“I mean, I did when I was told I was accepted into the program, about a week before my Dad died, and then when everything happened, I just tried shutting everything and everyone out,” I said.

“Do you hope you’re not coming back? That you’re gonna get cut and not return for the tour?” He asked, his tone different.

“I don’t even know anymore. I don’t wanna go home to my Mom and Adam, but I just.. don’t know..” I said lamely.

Niall sat up straight, looking at me.

I hadn’t even noticed I had been crying until he reached up and wiped the tears off my cheeks.

Even when sick he still looked perfect.

I probably looked like crap with my hair a mess and puffy eyes, but I didn’t care.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered wiping another tear as it escaped from my eye.

“For what?” I asked, confused.

“You don’t deserve to be treated that way,” he said.

I gave a weak smile, not knowing how to reply, and he put his arms around me, pulling me into his warm chest.

I swear, no one gave better hugs than him.

I stayed wrapped in his arms for a while, until I finally told him he should try sleeping, maybe the vomiting had passed.

“I should probably get back to my room, take a shower because I smell like fish, and all,” I said pulling my shoes on.

“Yeah… thanks for everything, I know vomiting repeatedly isn’t very pleasant, and you didn’t have to stay,” he said grabbing his water.

“It’s fine,” I said walking to the door.

“I’ll see your tomorrow,” he said.

I nodded, opening the door and stepping into the hallway.

Emma wasn’t back. I guessed she was staying in Zayn’s room for the night.

I took a long hot shower and changed into some sweats and tee before digging through the mini fridge for something to drink or eat.

I checked my phone for the time, almost midnight, and saw I had a text.

“You left your camera.” From Niall.