All Those Missing Pieces; Niam & Larry *Completed*

CHAPTER 4; HORAN HANGOVER

CHAPTER 4

Niall had what they called, ‘A Legendary Horan Hangover,’ If you’ve ever drank heavily you know the unpleasantness of waking up the next morning with a dry, sandpaper tongue, a roaring stomach, and a pounding headache. Oh and the need to bond with your toilet in new and disgusting ways. But Niall’s body had a different way of ridding himself of alcohol, for anywhere from 10 minutes to an excruciating hour Niall had a headache that was beyond pain. It was roaring and tearing and ripping, and it was so bad he found himself crying sometimes. That’s how he found himself wrapped in Liam’s arms, holding his palms to his temples and sniffling as another wave of unease hit him.

Liam, was worried about things far more intense than a simple short-lived headache. He was worried about his friend’s health, and safety and confidence. He didn’t know how to approach the matter, put it bluntly? ‘Hey after this chick hated on you, and you fainted, and then cried, you cut yourself and I want to know why. But I guess I’ll wait for that headache to pass because you almost got raped last night.’. Liam thought that, that definitely wasn’t his best world play. But he was so heart-breakingly worried he could hardly stand it. What if he tried to do it again? What if he missed and hit something important? Liam was no doctor but he knew slicing a vein in your wrist would defiantly not be good for the ole’ health. He’d wait for Niall’s headache to pass, in then he’d gingerly probe the subject, he decided dutifully. He hadn’t even noticed that Niall had dipped out of consciousness. Liam’s back was against the hardwood of the hotel king bed, his legs splayed in a lazy, yet tense, V and his friends body was tucked smoothly into the space. His head resting right above Liam’s heart so he could hear the erythematic breathing and his blond hair just barely tickled the Wolverhampton boys unshaven chin. To anyone else the gesture was more than friendly, and to one of the boys it was… Blush inducing but to the other it came as naturally as picking up a spoon instead of a fork to eat soup. Unless you had a totally irrational phobia.

~..~

Niall felt much better, and he was curled up in a loose ball in Liam’s lap while he munched on red vines, his eyes trained on the TV screen which played Finding Nemo, his choice, but he wasn’t watching it. Seeing but not comprehending. He was too busy stressing over last night, and he had this weird tingling sensation on his hip. Right above the previous slash mark, which was turning a brilliant pink and beginning to re-scab over. It at first had only been a nuisance, an itch he had to scratch. But it had grown from that, and now it felt like his skin was on fire with this crawling sense of need. His body was trembling with the force it took not to cry out, he was so frustrated. Why was his body doing this? What did it want? Niall felt useless asking these questions. He knew what his body wanted. He knew what happened last night was overwhelming and he needed control…. He craved for it.  “Liam, I’m going to use the loo.” The boy stuttered, leaping up from the bed they were perched cutely on like it was on fire.  Liam put on a mask of weariness, but on the inside he knew what Niall was going to do and he wanted to grab the boy by his shoulders and shake some sense into him. Instead, with a voice as soft as fleece he said, touching Niall’s face with the back of fingers;

“This has to stop.” And Niall James Horan stared into his best friend’s eyes, and with his world falling onto his shoulders, began to cry. Loudly. Like a child cries. Heavy until there were no more tears and his face was hot and he felt sick. Which was okay because he deserved this weakness and no matter how long he cried Liam would be there to hold him.

~….~

  Something changed. That night, with Niall craving the blade he’d only used once in desperation, and Liam feeling like a knight in shining armor. And I’m not talking about hairstyles, or clothes, or bands. Roles were taken. The cast was called and the camera began to roll. This film was one that the woman needed boxes of tissues with, and the men despised because they involved too much feeling.

This was the beginning of a downward spiral.

That led to friendships, and couches, and missing phones and ponchos. And kissing romantically in the rain, which isn’t so romantic when both parties have a serious case of the flue. Nothing says love but swapping spit with a contagious virus.

Lights, Camera, Action. The camera is recording, but were the boys ready?

~…~

 I’M SO SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT. I WAS AT A BIRTHDAY PARTY FOR MY STEP MUMS MOM’S NEW HUSBAND.. :P YEAH. IN THEN WE TALKED ABOUT GHOSTS IN THEN I HAD MATH AND I WAS SO BUSY AND I’M SO SORRY! THIS IS ALL I COULD MANAGE AND WE ALL KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE CLIFF HANGERS SO… TOODLES! <3