𝘾𝙍𝘼𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐 ↣ 𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉

twenty-eight - never enough

[when you love someone and they let you go, oh,
don't let it break your heart]

_________________________________

[TWO MONTHS LATER]

"You've been in here for hours, you really ought to take a break!" Niall scolded me. I was in the recording studio, trying to iron out a song I had written a few days before. My fingers plucked at the guitar strings, and I moved to make a note on my paper. "I'm serious, Mick. I know you want your first album to be good, but you can't overwork yourself like this. Have you slept? Ate anything?"

"I'm fine," I answered shortly. Niall came over and sat across from me. He took the guitar from my lap and stared me down.

I wasn't fine. It seemed like ever since I told the boys about my past, suppressed memories wouldn't stop coming back up. I needed something else to think about, something to do, so I started writing a song. And then another, and another.

"Show me your hand," Niall said simply. My fingers were curled into my palm. I unclenched my fist and let him hold my hand in his. Niall's jaw dropped.

The fingers on my left hand were torn up from playing guitar. Partly scabbed, partly rubbed raw. He pressed on my thumb, which was the most torn up, and I winced.

"Mick," Niall sighed.

"What? It's not even bad," I grumbled, taking my hand back.

"Mickey," he said.

That got my attention. The boys almost only ever called me by nicknames. Niall called me Mick, Louis called me Love, and Liam called me Peaches. Zayn switched from calling me Doll, to calling me Princess, which I had to say I liked better. Harry usually called me Darling or Kiddo at home, but switched to more affectionate terms like Baby and My love during interviews.

Niall calling me Mickey got my attention, so I raised my eyebrows in silent question.

"I'm not going to sit here and let you wear yourself down like this. It's 6:00 in the morning. We have an interview later, but until then, I want you to get some rest. Alright?"

"You sound like Liam," I grumbled. I let him pull me into a standing position anyways. He ushered me out and to my room, where he put a kiss on my forehead.

"Take a shower, you smell," He teased. I stuck my tongue out at him playfully, and he did it back. "But I mean it! Get some sleep!"

I walked to my window and closed the blinds, before slipping into my bathroom. I started the shower and slipped out of the clothes I had been wearing for the last three days.

The girl in the mirror was starting to not look like me. She was thinner, more tired, worn down. I hated to look at her.

I pulled my hair out of its bun and stepped under the water. It came as a shock and my hand fumbled for the knob, turning down the heat.

I washed my hair and my body before turning off the water and scrunched my hair a bit, before I stepped out and wrapped myself in a towel. I walked out my bathroom and mumbled a hey, Louis, to the boy sitting on my bed. I kept walking before I froze and turned around. "Louis! What are you doing in here?" I laughed, wrapping the towel tighter around myself.

"Waiting for you to get out of the shower," he answered simply.

"What if I walked out without a towel?" I laughed, shaking my head. Louis raised his eyebrows playfully and said nothing. "Whatever, perv." I slipped into my closet and pulled on a pair of shorts and a jumper. I walked back out to my bed, and Louis pulled me down next to him.