Forever Hidden (Niall Horan)

Chapter 1- A Rude Awakening

THE NEXT MORNING

Shawn’s P.O.V.

The cuffs cut and bruised as I looked around the white room. I could see through the glass doors, but I knew that was I was seeing was not real; an illusion to make me think that there was nowhere to run. As the door slid open, I caught a glimpse of workers in lab coats running around in about ninety corridors.

“Shawn,” said a man in a white suit who remarkably reminded me of Nick Fury of The Avengers, “you can co-operate and we do this the easy way, or you can resist and we do this the hard way.”

I looked at the floor and mumbled, “I won’t help you find more of us.”

The chains twisted painfully into my wrists, I knew for a fact they were cutting into my veins as my blood dripped onto my hands. Nick, over there, was unfazed, “We don’t need to find more of you, we need your help to get rid of the weapon.’”

“No!” I said forcefully as the cuffs pressed even harder, reaching my bones.

“Shawn!”

“Don’t touch me!”

“SHAWN! We have to go!” Niall’s deep voice informed me as my eyes flickered open; his familiar blue ones just inches away from mine.

“The sun’s not even up yet,” I yawned, rubbing my flecked blue eyes.

“Yeah, but the guards are,” he informed me while grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the bed effortlessly. “We have to get the boys, Eleanor, and Perrie.”

“Then what?”

“We flee the country.”

We left his flat through the building’s back and sprinted to Harry’s home, only a few blocks from Niall’s. Niall pounded on the door countless times before the familiar and annoyed face peeked around the door. In any other situation, I would have been ‘fangirling’ like mad going to Harry Styles’ house with Niall Horan, but I knew the English government was chasing me and waiting to take apart my brain, turning me into a weapon.

“Why the bloody hell are you here at four in the morning, Niall?” asked Harry in a deep, slow and sexy morning voice.

“We need to go,” Niall said quickly, shoving past Harry and dragging me after him.

“Go where? And please excuse my rudeness,” Harry said sarcastically, “but who are you?”

“Away from here,” I answered. “My name’s Shawn.” Niall was grumbling as he emptied the contents of Harry’s fridge into five boxes.

“Okay, but why?” Harry questioned, shaking his curls. I was biting my lip to keep from screaming at the fact that he was only wearing boxer-shorts.

Niall peeked around the corner of the open fridge door, “Look at her Styles.”

Harry eyed me up and down, “I am, I am.” I blushed at my messy dark hair and wrinkled clothes. Then Harry grabbed my face and zoomed in on my left eye, “No freaking way.”

I blinked, having known exactly what he was seeing. In the left eye of every telekinetic there is a tiny fleck of colour. It’s red-pink and then swirls into yellow on occasion; it was how Niall found me.

I nodded, “Yeah, I didn’t realize there were any that could live his kind of life, a celebrity one. I’ve only met a few others like us,” I continued, blushing even brighter, “Mainly nomads; they all moved around and kept to themselves.”

“Like vampires?” Both Niall and I glared at him. He shrugged, “What?”

“Let’s go,” Niall said as he picked up the boxes and handed me some.

“Can you carry that, love?” Harry asked as the boxes towered well over my head.

I peeked around the cardboard, “Harry, I don’t have to carry them if I don’t want to.” I moved my hands out from under the box and held them in mid-air.

He nodded, “Right, sorry. I’m going to grab some clothes and I’ll meet you at my car in a minute.”

“No time,” Niall said as a t-shirt and a pair of jeans hit Harry’s head just before he put them on. “C’mon,” Niall said impatiently, “we’ve still got to pick up the others.”