Any Other Heart

owner of a lonely heart

I’d never finished packing up faster than I did that night. Harry left soon after he realized I wasn’t going to be saying much more to him, probably off to console his twat of a girlfriend, and when Lou came back I had everything packed up so we could head out.

When we got back to the hotel, Lou ducked into her room with a quick goodnight to me, and then I was alone.

I wasn’t going back to my room, not in a million years. Louis would be there, and even if he was sleeping I couldn’t be in the same room as him. I could hardly think straight; what if he woke up and asked me what was wrong and I blurted something ridiculous out?

I wasn’t taking any chances.

I knew Niall’s room was across the hall from my own, down two doors, so I went to it and knocked quickly, praying he was awake and there.

He gave me a funny look when the door finally swung open. “Tommo’s not here.”

I rolled my eyes. “Still feeling up to those drinks?” I asked, fidgeting with nerves.

He chuckled and stepped aside, inviting me in. I brushed by him, but stopped short when I found Zayn laying on the bed, spread out comfortably with his phone in his hand while he scrolled, lost in Twitter or a text or whatever he was doing.

“What do you say, Zayn?” Niall asked, coming up behind me with a shrug. “Drinks?”

Zayn shrugged and sat up. “Don’t see why not. Where’s Tommo?”

I rolled my eyes. “We aren’t bloody attached at the hip,” I muttered, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

Niall just laughed and clapped his hand over my shoulder. “Whatever you say, Mia.”

The boys were, thankfully, already dressed and ready--”We were going out anyways!” Niall assured me--so we headed out shortly after I got to their room. We had to take security with us, especially because it was just the three of us and we wouldn’t exactly be able to fend off anyone should they catch wind that the boys were out and about.

We ended up in some hole-in-the-wall pub that had barely any patrons, aside from Niall, Zayn, and myself, but that was fine by us. We ordered a round of pints, found a table in a secluded corner, and sat down.

I immediately gulped the beer, hoping the alcohol would calm my frazzled nerves. Unfortunately, it did nothing but make it worse. My foot wouldn’t stop tapping and I kept drumming my fingers over the table-top while Zayn and Niall talked about the show.

“Problem love?” Niall asked finally, clapping his hand over my own to stop my fingers from moving.

I sighed and pulled my hand away before setting my elbows on the table and dropping my head in my hands. “Tonight was awful.”

I heard Niall laugh. “Why’s that?”

“Aside from Loren’s existence...” I trailed off and looked up, my eyes bouncing between the two boys in front of me. I sighed and grabbed my drink before taking another long pull and setting the glass down in front of me. “Louis’s in love with me?”

Zayn choked out a laugh, making me feel even more frantic, while Niall laughed like he was going to explode. I slapped my fist down on the table. “It’s not bloody funny, dammit!”

Zayn chuckled. “It’s a bit funny, you have to admit.”

I frowned, sitting back in my seat and crossing my arms in front of my chest. “Why?”

Niall laughed some more. “Oh come on, Mia. You can’t sit there and tell me you’re surprised.”

My jaw dropped. I sat forward and slapped my hands onto the table. “That’s exactly what I’m bloody telling you!” I hissed, narrowing my eyes at the two boys. “What? You’re telling me you knew?

“That’s exactly what we’re saying, love,” Zayn said with a shrug as he pulled his pack of cigarettes out and stuck one between his lips. “Are you telling us you didn’t?” he asked, his words muddled from the cigarette in his mouth.

“No I didn’t fucking know!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low so the older man behind the bar wouldn’t hear my entire life story. “How could I have known?”

“Because Mia!” Niall said, sounding frustrated but he still had a smile on his face. “He looks at you like...” He trailed off, trying to think. “Help me out here, mate.”

Zayn held his cigarette and blew the smoke in the air. “He looks at you like you look at Harry.”

My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Come off it, Mia,” Niall said with a smirk. “We know you fancy Hazza.”

“Oh my God, could this day get any worse?” I groaned, dropping my head into my hands again.

Harry was in love with Loren. Loren wanted to be mates again, as if that was ever going to fucking happen. Louis was supposedly in love with me, and we still had two weeks of tour left. Roughly. Two weeks where I would have to deal with Louis loving me, and pretending I didn’t know, because how could I possibly bring that up in conversation?

I focused on the pints instead, and the abundance of them that were getting delivered to our table. Zayn stopped about half way through all of it, but Niall and I certainly didn’t. We did shots, and then drank more pints, and at one point I was ordering shots to celebrate my fucked up life. I’m positive the bartender thought I was certifiable, but he was nice enough to keep serving us regardless.

I’m not sure what was worse: the amount we were drinking or the short time span in which our drinks were getting consumed.

Eventually it was time to leave. The boys’ bodyguard--whose name I couldn’t recall but I kept referring to as “Steve”--rounded us up and herded us out to the car waiting outside. I just clung to Niall and laughed, because at that point everything was funny and I couldn’t have cared less about anything happening in my life.

“Drank too much,” I mumbled, pressing my face into Niall’s shoulder to try and steady my spinning vision.

He laughed, his whole body shaking with it. “Aye, ‘m Irish, there’s no such thing.”

From my other side, Zayn chuckled. I turned to look at him and his head was falling back against the seat, his eyes pressed closed while he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “No, she’s right,” he said simply, making me laugh more.

“Aw, Nialler,” I cooed, my head falling onto his shoulder again. “Last time I got this pissed was with you too!”

He smirked down at me. “Aye, you were an angry drunk that night, goin’ on about someone being a slag and that.”

I laughed. “Loren! Loren’s a slag! I remember!” I patted his knee. “It was a good night, yeah?”

Niall chuckled. “Not really.”

“Why’s Loren a slag then?” Zayn asked after a few minutes of dead air.

I shrugged. I was in my happy drunk phase and didn’t really want to dwell on anything that would bring me down.

“How did she and Harry meet exactly?”

I sighed and turned to look at Zayn through narrowed eyes, because explaining my sob story to one Zayn was bad enough--I didn’t need two. “I don’t know, to be honest. I mean, we went to school together yeah? But it’s not like they were mates. He only knew her because of me.”

“So, what--they got together ‘cause of you then?”

I shrugged again. “Dunno. Just know they ran into each other in London and the rest is history I suppose.”

“Did you know?”

Zayn was entirely too sober and entirely too inquisitive for my liking, but a drunken mind speaks sober thoughts or something of the sort, so I couldn’t stop answering him. “Nope. Found out when everyone else did.”

He didn’t say anything else after that, and the subject was dropped.

When we got back to the hotel, we got dropped off in a back entrance because Niall and I were entirely too pissed to be dealing with anyone, and then we made our way to the lift and up to our floor.

Niall helped support me while we stumbled down at hall, singing loudly to a song I was pretty sure we made up. Zayn’s room was next door to Niall’s, so when we got to his door he stopped and turned to us. “All right on your own?”

Niall and I both nodded happily. “Just fine!” I assured him and waved him off. He didn’t move for a minute, but then he was saying goodnight and disappearing into his room.

Before I knew it, Niall and I were stumbling into his room, falling onto his bed in a fit of giggles. “Hell,” I said, “This isn’t my room.”

Niall laughed. “It isn’t.”

“Fuck,” I muttered, still laughing. “Dunno if I can go back to mine tonight.”

“How come? Tommo will take care of ya!”

I groaned, throwing my hands over my eyes. “That’s exactly why, Nialler.”

“‘Cause he loves you!” he giggled, his voice entirely too sing-songy for my liking.

“Stop it!” I hit his chest, but couldn’t stop giggling. “He does not.

“Oh come on, you don’t honestly believe that?” he said, turning onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. “I mean, it’s just...” he trailed off, looking deep in thought.

“Just what?” I prompted.

“Obvious, yeah? I mean, bloody takes care of you everywhere we go, worries about you. Dunno how you couldn’t have known, to be fair.”

I frowned and furrowed my eyebrows. “He does not,” I protested, but it was weak and a feeble attempt at best.

Niall laughed and fell back onto the bed. “Whatever you say, then.”

“He doesn’t!” I said, stronger this time. I sat up. “And anyways, he’s still in love with Kristen. Or something.”

“Do you honestly believe that? Did he tell you that?”

I tried to search my brain for the conversation I was positive we’d had, but came up empty. Everything was muddled together anyways, hazy and cloudy and impossible. I sighed and fell back against the bed, screwed my eyes shut before I took a deep breath. “He loves me, but we’re mates. He’s not in love with me.”

“Whatever you say, then,” he repeated, which made me frustrated. I wanted Niall to believe me and suddenly had a fierce desire to get him on the same level I was on.

“He doesn’t love me, Niall!” I protested, sitting up and glaring at the blonde. “He’s talking to Kristen again, yeah? He doesn’t love me. And anyways, then there’s Harry, and Loren, which is a bloody mess, and I’m just so tired, you know? I’m tired of all of it.”

Niall shrugged, closing his eyes. “Think you need to stop and figure out if you were ever in love with Haz in the first place, yeah? ‘Cause, and this is simply my two cents, but it sounds to me that you were in love with the idea of him, or maybe in love with the idea of being in love, but not necessarily Hazza himself.”

I frowned and titled my head to the side. “What?”

Niall sighed and sat up, propping himself up on both of his elbows. “What’s his favorite song?”

I frowned. I didn’t know for sure, and maybe my drunken, hazy mind was to blame, but I still had an answer. “How to Save a Life by The Fray.” There was a reasoning behind my answer, but it wasn’t one I wanted to share with Niall, even in my drunken state. It was something I shared with Louis, something only the two of us knew, and I didn’t feel like telling Niall. I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know, I mean, it’s one of them at least. Why though? Why do you care about Louis’s favorite song?”

When I looked up, Niall was grinning. “I didn’t specify who, love.”

My eyes fell shut and I sighed.

“Just think about it yeah?” Niall said finally. “You owe it to yourself, at the very least.”

Then he was crawling up the bed and getting comfortable, and before I knew it he was out like a light.
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Okay so first off? I got over 50 comments on the last chapter. Even now, thinking about it makes me want to cry because I'm so fucking floored by the reaction this story's gotten! I hold this story incredibly close to me and I absolutely adore hearing how much you all love it as well! So thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!
Second... Y'all need to go check out my friend Danielle's story, If You're Gone. It's absolutely AMAZING, stars Mr. Harry Styles himself, and you need to go read it right now and tell her just how amazing it is. Okay? Okay.
All right... you know the deal! Drop a comment, let me know what you think! :)
xoxox