Nobody Compares

When Addison Selley's family is killed in a car crash, she's forced to live with her new guardian until she turns eighteen- her cousin Harry Styles. Yes, that Harry Styles.
However, a distraction arises in the form of a blonde Irishman.
Right. There's just one foreseen problem. And that problem is Niall Horan.

*WARNING* coarse language, sexual scenes, violence. :)


15. leather >





"What the hell are you doing?" I asked, drawing up short at the doorway of the bedroom. Niall was standing in the kitchen in an old white t-shirt and a pair of boxers, apparently, cooking. He turned and spared me the effort to frown, before he turned his back to me. I know he couldn't have been up for long seeing as his blonde hair was all messy, and stuck up at odd angles. I noticed his roots had started growing back in again. I shrugged it off, rubbing my eyes wearily, and stepping out of the bedroom and walking over.

Last night, he'd managed to fix the heating in the bedroom, so it was nice and toasty. Still, the nights were biting and cold. I didn't want to say anything, but he was still mumbling in his sleep.

"It's that time again," he said, switching the stove off, throwing his breakfast of scrambled eggs onto his plate. It looked like it was made of about half a carton of eggs.

"What time?" I asked distractedly, trying to sneak my hand in to nick a bit, but he slapped my hand away and moved the plate out of range. I sighed, realising I'd have to get my own breakfast after all.

"The public stint," he replied, as I opened the fridge and pulled out the milk. "You know, once every two weeks where we have to go outside together?" Oh god. I didn't bother to try hide my clear disgust at the fact that the time had arrived once again, to pose and put on a face, pretend like I was absolutely in love with this prick.

"Seriously?" I said, pouring myself a glass of milk and setting the the carton back down on the table top. "Does it have to be today?"

"Oh I'm sorry," he said immediately, putting on a snooty voice. "Did you have plans? Going out with your friends?" I sighed heavily and stared at a point about a metre above his head.

"What if I was? Would it get me out of today?" I replied evasively.

"Nope," he answered, grabbing the milk carton and drinking straight from it. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and smirked at me. I would probably be more annoyed with him if he didn't look so freaking attractive- which was stupid. I stared at him blankly for a few moments, before I grabbed my cup of milk and stalked off before I did something reckless.



We decided we might as well actually get something done if we had to appear in public together. Zayn's birthday was coming up soon, so we looked around for something to buy him. Truly, I had no idea what to get him, but all Niall and I really did was walk around the mall next to each other, making snipes at each other while suggesting things to buy or do.

"What's Zayn into?" I asked him with a sigh. "Come on, he's your mate."

"He's into you," he muttered darkly.

"What?" I snapped sharply, and he shot me an irksome look. After a few moments of stony silence, I realised I wasn't getting any comprehensive response from him. "Oh fuck, you're impossible."

"At least I'm not a slut," he shot back, looking down at his feet.

"You sure about that?" I said warily, with a sneer. He looked up at me with a quick flash skimming over his eyes, before his eyes flickered over past my shoulder. He nodded his head.

"Reckon he'd want clothes?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said blankly, throwing my hands up, "Jeez Niall, just choose something!"

"Fine," he snapped, grabbing my wrist and storming towards the first store he saw. His fingers were calloused, but warm. I shook him off as we finally got in. There were rows and rows, shelves full of clothes, but I was totally lost. I'd never shopped for a guy around Zayn's age before, and I didn't want to get him something meaningless, or something idiotic. Niall on the other hand, just seemed not to care.

"What do we get him?" I asked, more to myself than Niall, but to his credit, he answered regardless.

"I dunno, you're the girl." I glared at him, folding my arms over my chest.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded staunchly.

"Nothing, just that you'd know more about clothes than I do," he said calmly, but a hint of a smirk playing on his pale lips. Of course, he had to add sarcastically, "Jeez Addison, keep it in your pants." Keep it my pants? What the hell was he talking about? I didn't have time to work out if I should be offended by what he just said before he'd already disappeared, looking around.

An hour later, the two of us were still no closer to finding Zayn a birthday present.

"What do you think of this?" I asked finally, pulling out a leather jacket. "Would you wear it?"

"Me?" asked Niall, with a mocking scoff. "No. But Zayn would."

"Good, then get it," I replied, shoving it into his arms. "We'll take it."

"Zayn's got a million leather jackets," Niall said stubbornly, throwing the jacket back at my feet. I scooped it up quickly with a frown. "I don't think he needs another one."

"He can't have too many," I reasoned, bundling it up in my arms. "Come on, there's nothing else we can agree on."

"Who said I was agreeing on this?" he said snappishly, narrowing his eyes. He turned around, grabbing another jacket, a denim one with black pockets. "Here. Get him this. He'll like it."

"Why not this one?" I demanded, holding up the perfectly fine leather jacket. He shrugged. God, he was insufferable. I clearly knew what he was saying, without him having to even open his mouth. Because you chose that one, Addison. I tossed the denim jacket back at him. "I'm getting the leather one." I glared at him defiantly, and he scowled.

"Forget it, I'm not paying for that," he said finally.

"Making your girlfriend pay?" I simpered in mockery and I could see the anger lash in his eyes. OK, maybe a part of me enjoyed provoking him too much for it to be healthy. "Well that's not very chivalrous of you, Nialler." He almost twitched when I'd called him that. Well good. He knew my weak spot, and now I knew his.

"I'm not getting that for Zayn. The denim one's better."

"Leather's simple and classic," I retorted. "It's Zayn's present, not yours."

"We're not getting him something leather again!" Niall argued furiously, "Goddamn it, does everybody just associate him with leather clad motorcycle gangs?"

"What happened to me knowing more about clothes than you do?"

"Well I know more about Zayn," Niall shot back, with a smirk. Oh god, he was pissing me off.

"Then why the hell have you contributed practically nothing to this?" I demanded angrily.  "I've just been asking what he'd like and all you do is shrug and stand there like an idiot."

"Bloody hell, I knew this was a shitty idea," he muttered, staring off and avoiding meeting my eye.

"What, me having to talk to you?" I snapped. "Well you should have thought of that before you reminded me we had to go out today!"

"Oh shut the fuck up, Addie!" he snarled. I stared him, torn between feeling wounded, and getting angry again. After a moment's consideration, I went with the latter.

"Excuse me? Why don't you shut the fuck up, Niall?" I demanded roughly, stepping forward and jabbing my finger at him. "Need I remind you, this trip was your idea."

"Well the thought of spending time with you makes me sick so there's nothing on me!" he said loudly, throwing his hands up and stepped even closer.

"Oh?" I laughed derisively, "Well good then, cos the feeling is freaking mutual!"

"Yeah?" he said heavily, taking a step closer to me. I had to look up to meet his eye .I abruptly realised how close we were standing now, less than a foot apart, breathing heavily and quite angry. But now, the anger was dissipating, and all that was left was...I blinked confusedly.

"What?" he said irritably, breaking the tension of the silence. I managed a scowl to regain my composure.

"Nothing," I muttered, staring at a spot on his hoodie because I didn't want to look at his face. Was it bad that all I could do was think about what might be under it? What the hell was wrong with me? I forced myself to swallow thickly when I realised that I'd practically stopped breathing and functioning as soon as we'd come near each other. Part of me hated it. The way his poison wove its way into my bloodstream whenever we were near.

"So what's it gonna be, Addison?" he asked warily, cocking his head so that it was almost closer to mine. It was back to Addison now. No more Addie. I forced myself to answer.

"Leather," I said stubbornly, bundling the jacket up in my arms. My eyes flickered to his one last time, before I realised looking at him and being this close to him probably wasn't good for me, and I turned to go. All I heard was him say was,

"Wrong answer." Then suddenly, I felt his grip on my shoulders again, yanking me backwards. It was just like the time a few weeks ago in his room when we'd fought over his converse shoes, with me pinned to him by his consuming hold; my back pressed wholly against his front. In that split second, I was caught off guard again, leaving me breathless and winded. Even though we were in public, it was as though everything else had disappeared around us.

I could feel every line, every movement of his body under me. I could feel how his head almost instinctively moved so his lips hovered close to my neck, how his breath danced taut and teasing against my skin, and how his eyes were almost certainly fixed on me. He was warm, under the layers of clothes, his fingers calloused, skimming across the smooth skin of my shoulders, nearly sending shivers running up my spine. There for a moment, I forgot I hated him so freaking much. Instead, I let myself relax against him. And his grip loosened from my shoulders, slipped down my arms. I think there and then, I forgot how to breathe.

"Um, can I help you two?"

The two of us snapped to attention and leapt apart like the other had a contagious disease. I stumbled a little bit, regaining my poor sense of balance, whilst Niall nearly collided with a rack of suit jackets. The shop assistant was staring at us like he didn't know what to make of it.

"Er," I said uncertainly, coughing uncomfortably. I held out the jacket rather lamely. "I think we'll be taking this one." He took it from me gingerly as though the disease was also embedded in anything that had made contact with my skin.

"Is that all I can do for you today?" he added pointedly. I shook my head, forcing myself to smile.

"Nope, no, that's all," I said, all in a very rushed voice. The shop assistant merely raised his eyebrow as though he thought he was somewhat superior to me, then left to the register. I turned to Niall, who was leaning against the rack looking a little unnerved, but I wasn't about to let regain his muddled up mind before I got angry at him. "What the hell was that?"

"What?" he said, looking at me confused. Those blue eyes, when not glaring at me, were perfect. I shook my head.

"What the fuck are you playing at?" I hissed under my breath,  as I watched him go slowly back to normal. "Don't ever try playing tricks like that with me again. Got it?"

"Got it?" he repeated mockingly, with a scoff, "I got you, Selley, I don't need much more." Great. Now he was just taking the piss.

"Don't touch me again!" I snapped sharply.

"Don't touch me either!" he imitated my voice, flailing his arms around like a psycho. Then he smirked, as though he was rather pleased with his performance.

"Fuck you," I snarled.

"Oh, is little Addison saying dirty words? Cousin Harry won't be too pleased," he said in a baby voice. He bit his lip, which should have pissed me off, but instead was stupidly attractive. I watched his lips as his tongue slipped past them to dampen them a little. I shook myself awake. What the hell was happening to me? "Aw, come on I was just playing. Don't you just need a cuddle from time to time?"

Well fuck this.

"I hate you," I snapped viciously, slamming my palm into his chest, which he must have been expecting, because he didn't even flinch. Just smirked.

"I hate you too, sweetheart," he said in a sickeningly sweet voice. Unable to stand him any longer, I turned and stormed off to the register to pay for Zayn's new leather jacket. If Niall wanted to get that denim jacket for him so much, then he could get it his bloody self.


By dinner time that night, Niall still hadn't apologised and truly, I'd given up any hope he ever would bother anyway. Still, I was going to milk it for all it's worth even though he might not care.

It was Friday night, which meant it was just my unwind time. Usually I just spent it infront of the television watching bad movies, and eating microwave meals. By seven thirty I was all ready and geared up to go, wearing my daggiest trackpants and an old shirt Harry gave me as a housewarming present, or more or less trying to apologise for me having to move in with this monster of a human being. It must have been big on Harry because it was well past my hips on me. 

I even had my hair up in a high messy bun to make sure it didn't get in my way when I was burying myself in food.

I was at the pantry, rummaging through the mess to try find my microwave meals. I grabbed the first one I could see and turned around, only to let out a shriek of shock as I nearly collided into someone's chest. The shriek abruptly died in my throat when I realised it was Niall. He just frowned down at me.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted, slightly confused. Usually he spent his Friday nights who knows where, probably clubbing and getting smashed and making out with cheap girls.

"Uh, I live here," he said still staring down at me. It must give him so much power and satisfaction just to do that. He was pretty short for a guy, but then again, I couldn't really talk seeing as I was the height of an average fourteen year old. I allowed a scowl as I prodded him out of the way with my elbow and headed towards the microwave.

To my surprise by the time I'd settled down on the couch with my microwave meal, he was sitting next to me, holding one of his own. I just stared blankly at him until he finally returned it. I was infinitely suspicious of his motives- how could I not be? Then again, he just seemed complacent as he was right now.

"So," he said with a sigh, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, "How do these things work?" I almost smiled, which was stupid. Instead, I picked up the remote, flicked the television on to find an old Friday night romcom playing. I didn't bother to question why instead of going out and partying with his mates, he'd chosen to stay back in his apartment and have Friday night unwind time with me.

Dammit- probably not with me. Why the hell would he want to spend his Friday nights with me? Still I didn't question it, mostly because he didn't question why I'd let him back into his bedroom, though if he did, I'd have a perfectly legitimate excuse- I mean, reason.

About halfway through the movie, he was laughing so hard that he looked like he might cry. Honestly, the movie wasn't even that funny, but hearing him laugh made me want to laugh too. We were just watching the heroine telling her lover that she couldn't be with him because she was just afraid of falling, and that he deserved something better like her best friend who he'd agreed to marry, I couldn't help but notice Niall shifted. He fidgeted in his seat, and shifted just a little bit. Just a little bit closer to me.

For some unexplainable reason, probably stupidity, I had to suppress a giddy smile. It made no sense why that would make me smile. But he kept doing it. Shuffling over, pretending to fidget, until finally we were sitting right next to each other, our knees occasionally touching. As we watched the heroine fall out of the wedding cake, and Niall absolutely pissed himself laughing, our legs touched. From there, he just didn't move it away.

I smiled to myself, and watched the rest of the movie, wondering if all my Friday nights would be so unexpectedly enjoyable.




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