Lost in London

Over the next week, Reilly hardly saw the inside of her apartment. Being on break from school, she had little reason to be there and had been spending nearly all her time with the boys and their girlfriends, alternating whose place she slept at in an attempt to not overstay her welcome. If anyone had been keeping count, however, she spent more nights at Niall's than anywhere else, and they had fallen into a sort of rhythm with each other.

She woke up earlier than everyone else, with Harry being the occasional exception. She enjoyed her mornings alone, and would often go for a walk. The December morning air could be biting, but she liked it. She had always enjoyed the cold winter weather, snow on the ground, and the clouds of her breath hanging in the air as she walked the empty streets.

On the mornings Harry was up early, he would walk with her. They could always find something to talk about, even if it was nothing at all, and over the course of only a few days, Reilly learned a great deal about him. There were so many layers to him, and he often played things close to the vest. But opening up to her seemed to come naturally to him, and she trusted him with things she couldn't imagine telling the other boys.

On mornings alone she thought about her relationships with each of the boys. Liam was like the big brother she never had. He drove her up the wall on occasion, but when it came down to it he would be there when it really mattered. He would send her silly texts that reminded her to smile, and pictures of himself making dumb faces to cheer her up, even if he didn't actually know something was wrong. His timing was always perfect that way, like he had a sixth sense devoted to her.

Louis was her best friend. She felt comfortable laughing with him or crying with him. She could yell and scream at him, and not worry about how it would affect their friendship. He could tell when something was off with her just by the tiniest change of her tone or flicker of her expression. He always opened his ears and his heart to her, and he was always honest with her, even if it was hard for her to hear.

Her relationship with Zayn was the most casual, and they spent time one-on-one time together the most infrequently. The time they were together was largely spent talking to each other in silly voices, and making up 'what if' or 'would you rather' scenarios. Occasionally their conversations would turn serious and she would walk away feeling really good about whatever they discussed. Zayn's quiet demeanor had a calming effect on her.

And Niall was just... Niall. He was the one she thought about the most. Everything he did was with her in mind, and it showed. They could talk for hours and never get bored, or sit in silence and leave feeling like they'd had the best conversation ever. They had the most in common, a love of all sports, a love of movies, a love of beer. He listened intently to everything she said. Her heart raced when he was near, even if she didn't know, and their eyes were like magnets to each other. They challenged each other with every breath.

It was those things Reilly was thinking of when she stepped outside. Harry was nowhere to be seen, so she walked along on her own, trying to get her mind to shift gears. The quiet streets glistened with the morning dew, and the cold breeze grazed her face. She pulled Niall's jacket tight around her tiny frame and folded her arms across her chest. No matter how hard she tried, all she could think about that morning was how she wanted to be next to Niall, either walking down the street with him, or laying in his bed. It didn't matter, she just wanted him near her.

Those thoughts scared her. She could no longer deny the growing feelings she had for him, but she still had yet to admit them to anyone, including truly to herself. Part of her wanted to run away from him, from all of them, because she knew the transition back into school once the break was over was going to be difficult the more she spent time with them, and even harder when they left for tour in the new year. But another part of her never wanted to leave any of them. For the first time in so long she finally felt like she belonged, like she was no longer lost and wandering, trying to find her way in a city that was unfamiliar and a life that was unforgiving.

She felt torn and at peace all at the same time, a vessel of conflicting emotions. Her thoughts circled back to Niall, and she felt an extraordinary sense of calm. Without realizing what she was doing, she turned around and headed back to his place. Once inside, she hung his jacket in the hall closet where she'd gotten it from and quietly made her way to his room.

He was still asleep, as he probably would be for several hours. She had mastered the skill of getting out of bed without disturbing him the morning after the boys had returned home when she had promised not to wake him, and would spend the morning after her walk occupying herself in various ways. But this morning her thoughts were too much for her, and she crawled back into bed next to him. Though she wanted to, she didn't curl up against him for fear of waking him. Instead she laid on her side and took note of how peaceful he looked. Her mind eased enough to allow her to fall into a restful sleep.

When she woke again, she was curled against Niall, her head on his bare shoulder. She could tell he was awake by the way he was playing with her hair, curling the long strands around his fingers and letting them fall. The way she was curled, she looked to be only about half his size, and fit perfectly against his side.

She looked up at him with sleepy eyes, and he smiled down at her. "G'mornin' Beautiful," he said cheerfully, but softly. Blush covered her face and she buried her face in his chest, letting her hair fall over it to hide the tint. But he knew. He always knew. "You're even prettier when you blush," he told her with a chuckle. Her face grew hotter, and without really thinking, she pressed her lips to his chest. He raised his eyebrows and gently brushed her hair off her face so he could see her. "You alright, Darlin'?" he asked.

She nodded against his chest. "Sorry if I disturbed you," she mumbled against his skin.

"Waking up to the most wonderful girl in the world cuddling into me could never be a disturbance," he said. If it was possible, her face turned even darker, almost purple, from the level of embarrassment she felt from his words. If he knew that she had spent part of the morning considering running away from him, he probably wouldn't still feel that way.

Part of her wanted to tell him. To start a fight with him. To make him angry. To make it easier for her to make a decision about what to do. But she knew that hurting him that way would also mean hurting herself, and that was something she wasn't sure she could handle. With that thought playing through her mind, it dawned on her what she was doing. Once again she was being selfish. She was using Niall's feelings for her as a way to make herself feel good. Suddenly, she felt sick to her stomach.

She lifted herself into a sitting position, letting his warm blanket fall off her upper body. Niall looked up at her, confusion playing across his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but she held her hand up, trying to gather her thoughts and settle her stomach. "I, um," she stuttered out. "You know those boundaries we set before you guys went away? The ones where we don't do things like cuddling in bed and acting like a couple?" she asked. He nodded slowly as he sat up, the look of bewilderment falling from his face.

He kept his expression neutral, trying to brace himself for whatever she was going to say next, good or bad. "Those were easy to keep in place when you were thousands of miles away, you know?" she asked, and he nodded again. She stayed quiet for a moment and looked around the room. Her stomach hurt, and she blinked to keep the tears that were welling up behind her eyes from falling. "God, this is so hard," she said quietly.

Niall reached out and grabbed Reilly's hand with one of his, and used the other to gently turn her face back to his. "Then let's make it easy," he said softly. Her heart raced and her skin tingled. She looked at him curiously with tears still begging to fall. "Be my girlfriend, Reilly," he said.

Reilly's stomach dropped, and she felt like someone knocked the wind out of her. She blinked and a tear escaped, and she shook her head at him. The look he gave her was one of almost amusement, but it was masking the sinking feeling in his own stomach. "You act like I'm asking you jump off London Bridge, or slit your own throat. I'm not. I'm only asking you to be what you practically already are," he said.

She continued shaking her head at him, words eluding her. His expression held for a moment, and then finally fell as he realized she wasn't going to change her mind. He'd known it was a long shot, but part of him had been hopeful that she would see what he saw.

"I can't," she said finally, and he let go of her hand. "I've told you so many times. I can't."

He nodded and lowered his eyes, this time being the one refusing to make eye contact. "You're right," he said quietly.

She reached out and brushed her finger tips against his. He pulled his hand away at first contact, as if her touch burned his skin. A soft sigh escaped her, even though she didn't have any right to be upset with him in that moment. She had no one to blame but herself. "I'm sorry, Niall. I'm so sorry," she said.

He nodded again. "I know," he said, finally looking up at her. He held her gaze for a long time. She wanted to look away, but part of her felt like she owed it to him to not do that. She was afraid of a lot of the things she felt when it came to him, but letting that fear take over right then wasn't an option. "How many times do you think I'm going to let you break my heart before I finally get tired of it?" he asked finally.

Tears sprang to her eyes once again. But before she could even think of a way to respond, her phone ringtone sounded loudly through the room. She turned and grabbed her phone from the night table next to the bed. Niall told her not to answer it, but when she looked at the screen she knew she didn't have a choice.

"I have to. It's my father. I'm sorry," she said as she turned and slid off the bed. She walked out of Niall's room and down the hallway before she answered, continuing toward the front door and outside.

"I've canceled your flight to Boston," he said, forgoing a standard greeting. She hadn't really expected it, but with the morning she'd been having, it would have been an incredibly nice surprise.

Her heart nearly stopped when his words sunk in. "What? Why?" she asked, confused and upset. She had been so excited to get to see Lexie and her family, and to see her mother's parents, but her father couldn't even let her have that. He had to ruin it.

"Your mother has never been to London, and decided she wanted to go for Christmas. We'll be there late next week. You sister is going to be staying with you, and your mother and I will stay elsewhere," he said to her, clearly irritated that she would question him.

Hatred welled up inside her and anger coursed through her veins. With her mood already being what it was, she was up for a fight. "Allison is not my mother. My mother is dead," she said bitterly into the phone.

The line was silent for a moment, long enough that Reilly had to pull her phone away from her face to make sure he was still there. She could hear him speak before she even brought the phone back to her ear. "You'll do well to remember that you are the reason for that, young lady," he said, his voice loud, clear, and harsh. "Allison is the closest thing you have to a mother, but you don't even appreciate anything she's done for you, you ungrateful, hateful little wretch."

"What has she ever done for me? And when has she ever even showed the slightest interest in me?" she asked. "If anything, she should be thankful toward me. Because if it weren't for me being the reason mom is dead, then she wouldn't be married to you right now. And yes, maybe I am full of hate, but it's only because you and Fallon made me that way, Father Dearest," she spat.

"Don't blame your family for your selfish, demon heart. Your sister and I have only ever treated you in the manner in which you deserve," he boomed.

Reilly shook her head, tears begging to fall at his venomous words. But she didn't want to let him get the best of her any longer. "You and Fallon aren't my family. You never have been," she told him, keeping her voice steady. "See you next week," she said as she pressed the end button on her phone's screen.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head back, praying that the tears wouldn't fall. She stood like that for what seemed like a long time. Thoughts of how awful Christmas would be raced through her mind, crashing into thoughts of how she'd hurt Niall only moments before. In that moment, she wondered if her father was right. Maybe she was ungrateful, selfish, and hateful. Maybe her soul was dark and her heart filled with the fires of Hell. Maybe she was the reason for all the awful things that happened in her life.

When she finally opened her eyes, Harry was standing in front of her. His face was dark and his eyes bore into hers, clouded with concern. She opened her mouth to greet him, but he spoke before she could. "Does he always speak to you that way?" he asked. He must have been standing there for longer than she realized and overheard her conversation with her father.

"Um," she said quietly, tears rushing to her eyes once again and spilling over before she had the chance to even try to stop them. She wanted to lie out of embarrassment. But it Harry, and she couldn't bring herself to do it. "Yeah. He does."

Immediately he stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around her. It was a good thing, too, because her legs gave out just as he did so, and she collapsed into him. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "You are none of those things, Reilly," he said softly, soothingly. "You have an incredible heart, a caring nature, and one of the most beautiful souls I have ever come in contact with. Don't allow him to make you feel poorly about yourself."

He gave her a squeeze before his arms slowly unwrapped from around her. He started to lead her back inside, but she protested, pulling out of the gentle hold he had on her wrist. "We probably shouldn't go in there," she said. Harry cocked his head to the side in confusion. "I don't think Niall wants to see me right now, or probably ever again."