Saint Fidelity

Niall and I sat across from each other, staring in silence. It had been at least twenty minutes since the last few words were exchanged, yet neither of us had even tried to start conversation, or leave. It almost felt like a competition- who could stay silent the longest.

If that was the game we were playing, I was great at it. I could not speak to anyone for days on end, and not feel sad or lonely about it. However, Niall seemed to pretty good as well. He sat there with the same eery smile on his face, like he knew something I didn't.

Something about him made me feel sort of... tingly. There really wasn't any other way to describe it. When his eyes glared into mine, I couldn't help but shiver. I'd never really experienced that before, and it was strange. Maybe I was allergic to him, or something.

"You have pretty eyes." Niall announced abruptly, breaking the silence.

I looked at him, and he smiled slightly. I had no idea what exactly to say, as I'd never really been complimented by a boy before. I just sort of stared at him, confused. "Thank you..."

"You're welcome," he said with the same smile.

This was all very strange... This wasn't like me at all to talk to strangers, let alone let them compliment me (not that that happened very often). Niall had this weird effect on me. I had a theory that it was the lack of emotions, because then I wasn't afraid of insulting him or anything. He wouldn't even be able to feel offended, and that was nice. I was slightly scared of him, though. He had a frightening part of him that I could catch glimpses of.

"You look scared," Niall observed, reaching his hands across the table, grabbing one of mine and not terribly gently pulling me towards him. "Why?"

"I'm not scared," I answered, ripping my hand away his his. His hands were warm, hot almost. They were rough, and much larger than mine. Why I was observing his hands, I didn't know.

"Please don't be," he said softly, his whole expression turning into a far more pleasant one. "You're the only person here I've really spoken to."

"What if I was scared of you?" I asked curiously. If he had no emotions, why would he even care?

"That'd suck, because I enjoy you."

I tilted my head slightly, waiting for him to continue talking. When he didn't, I started instead. "But you wouldn't really care, because you can't care, right?"

Niall bit his lip, seeming to consider this for a moment. "Well, I wouldn't be sad or anything. I don't even remember what it's like to be sad... But I definitely wouldn't be happy, that's for sure."

I nodded slightly. It sort of made sense, if I thought about it. Though it wouldn't make him upset, it wouldn't benefit him at all, so why did we want that? People that lacked emotions still had things they wanted, maybe he wanted to talk to me. I didn't mind that. "Well, I'm not scared of you, so you don't have to worry." That was only partly a lie.

"Good," Niall grinned, looking up at the ceiling briefly. "I'm sort of glad they decided to paint the rooms, in a way."

"Why's that?"

"I think I made a friend," he chuckled, gesturing towards me. "Who knew I'd make a friend in the nut house."

I giggled. What a strange sound coming from me. "I never thought I would."

"Me neither," Niall smiled, his gaze lingering on me for quite some time before he looked away. "But here we are."

"Indeed," I smiled.

It was such a strange concept, me being friends with a boy, especially one this attractive. I wasn't completely blind to the opposite sex, I could tell that he could easily have girls falling all over him if he really wanted. I wouldn't admit to anyone that asked that he made my heart pitter-patter like a stupid school girl when he smiled. I had every intention to ignore it, as he didn't even have feelings anyways.

It was only natural to be attracted to a cute boy, even if you were in a mental hospital.

At least, I hoped so.