Niall Horan Imagines

Over the Ocean (Part 3)

It took about an hour to leave the venue but you finally found your hotel. Your head was throbbing from all the screaming girls. "I'm going to find a drink machine so I can take some Tylenol, then I think I am going to go to bed. I'll be right back," you told Miriam before walking out the door. You walked the halls of your floor but there was no drink machine. You found the elevator and decided to go down a floor to look for one there. A man walked past you and informed you that the elevator was broken. You took the stairs. Before you could open the door to exit the stairwell, the door flew open sending you back. You head was definitely ten times worse. It hurt so bad your vision was blurred. "Oh no. I am so sorry," you heard someone say. Confused you grabbed your head. "Do you speak English?" the voice asked, but it definitely wasn't a german accent. "Ya-yes," you stuttered. "Oh good. Are you okay?" The man asked. "I think so," you could tell he was by your side now. "Here let me help you sit up. It probably isn't a good idea for you to stand just yet," the man said helping you sit up. You could hear the door swing open again. "Oh man lad. What did ya do to her? Did she faint when she saw ya?" another man asked. He was also not German. "No I swung the door open on her," he said panicked. "I think she might have a concussion." "What's your name?" the second man asked. "(Y/n)" you stammered. "Okay (y/n). Would it be okay if we help you up to our room?" the first man asked. Things were starting to get clearer.  The man definitely had an Irish accent and the other had a British accent. "I-i guess that would be okay," you said through the cloud of thoughts that were trying to jumble your mind. "Alright Zayn. You get that side and I'll get this side. On the count if three slowly lift her up," he man with the Irish accent said to the other. "1-2-3." Before you knew it, you were being carried away. "We need to keep her talking," the British guy said. "Ummm. Okay. (Y/n), why are you here tonight?" the man asked. After a second of thinking you mumbled, "a concert. I took Miriam to a concert." A chuckle escaped the mouth of one. "Okay. Who is Miriam?" the other man asked. "Um she's um my Internet best friend. I think I came from America to meet her. We went to a concert." Your head wasn't allowing you to process things as fastly as you Would've liked to. "Where can we find Miriam to let her know you're okay?" the British man asked. "I think I came down a flight of stairs. Our number is 32something. Maybe 5 or 6. Yeah I think room 326." "We are going to let her know you are going to be okay," thr Irish man informed me, "is there anything I can do for you?" He gently laid you on a bed and propped you up with several pillows. "Tylenol. My head hurts so bad I can't see straight. " You bluntly said. "Okay. I will be right back." A door opened and closed several times before you felt someone beside you. "(Y/n). I am here beside you. My name is Niall by the way. Here is your Tylenol and a glass of water." He gently placed them both in your hand.

"Why don't you take those then get some rest?" he suggested. You did as your were told. Your eyes grew heavier by the second and it wasn't long before you were out.

Niall's POV

I feel really bad for what I did to the poor girl but there was no way I could take her to the hospital without girls crowding and paparazzi questioning what was going on. Zayn has gone to find Miriam and inform her what has happened. Here's to hoping she won't tweet or location or something. (Y/n) is peacefully sleeping in my bed. I really hope she is going to be okay.