Live While We're Young

Layla, an 18-year-old dancer and her best friend, Addison moved to London. After their first day of college Layla became friends with a boy named Harry. What she didn't know was that he would only cause a chain reaction of dramatic events.

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14. Loosing Trust

Niall and I walked back to my flat hand in hand; it was perfect, until we arrived at my door. I opened the door to let him in, and he gladly entered the flat. Just as he began taking off his shoes he was interrupted by the vibration in his pocket.

"Shit!" he cursed taking out his phone.

"Hello?" a girl whined when he answered. I could recognize that nasally voice anywhere, it was the girl that Niall was fighting with over the phone yesterday.

"Hi, Britney."

"Oh I'm glad to know that you're actually alive, where are you? You said you wouldn't miss it for the world, I assumed you were dead!"

Niall rolled his eyes. "I'll be right over, I'm just with my girlfriend."

"Oh her." she sighed.

"She's not that bad." Niall said rolling his eyes. My mouth flew open, I was not that bad? What was wrong with me!?

"I'm not that bad?" I practically yelled, Niall looked at me a bit shocked.

"I have to go, Britney."

"Don't you hang up on m-" Niall ended the call and looked at me blankly.

"I have to go." He says plainly and walked out leaving me standing there trying to process what had just happened. I shut the door and slowly sat on the couch.

The conversation kept playing in my mind and my vision blurred with tears. Maybe I wasn't good enough for him, I haven't been too committed to this relationship lately. An Idea popped into my head and I hastily wiped my tears and got my phone to text Niall.

Me: Do you think you can come meet me at my flat at 7:30 tonight?

Niall: Of course! xx

Me: See you then! xox

I put away my phone and went in town to start getting the things I needed to win back his love. When I got back home I put the chicken and boxed stuffing on the counter.


*****

I took the chicken out of the oven and it on the counter. I began to cut the chicken and put pieces on the plate, along with mashed potatoes and stuffing. I carefully put the plates on the table which I had draped with a red table cloth. I grabbed a lighter and lit the four candles that stood on the table, and plugged my IPod into my stereo. As This by Ed Sheeran started to play I looked at the time 7:45. I frowned. He'll be here. I tried to convince myself. I took out my wine glasses and the wine and poured us each a glass. I looked at my master piece and smiled, it was perfect. Minutes passed and I was getting tired of waiting, I pulled out my phone and called him. After the 6th ring it went to voice mail and I ended the call. I turned off the music and sat on the couch. An hour soon passed and I found myself with teary eyes, sitting at the table alone. I began to eat, and the candles slowly burned out. A small sob escaped my lips as I turned the lights on a bit brighter after loosing the light of the candles. I looked back at what was supposed to make things better, but was now only one eaten plate and burned out candles. I curled up on the couch and began to sob in my hands. I heard foot steps and looked up to see a drunk Niall. When he saw the meal he looked back at me and rolled his eyes. "I was just a bit late."

"A bit!?" I exclaimed. "Niall, you're 3 hours late!"

He groaned and plugged his ears. "Can you talk a bit lower, please?" He began to walk out but I go up after him, I wasn't going to leave him out on the streets alone drunk. As I grabbed his arm he turned to face me and I felt his hand make contact with my cheek. I let out a shriek and let go of him, my hand flew up to my face as I stood there in shock. Even if he hit me I still felt like I needed to protect him. "Niall, come with me." I said in a quiet, sweet tone.

I extended my hand and he gently took it. I slowly walked him to the couch and sat him down. I walked to the kitchen and got him some Tylenol which a helped him swallow. I sat down next to him and instructed him to lie down and he did, putting his head on my lap. "Go to sleep." I whispered, stroking his cheek.

"I can't." He whined.

'Try." I whispered, I kissed his cheek and began to sing This by Ed Sheeran. Dancing wasn't my only talent, I had an amazing voice. As the lyrics fell from my lips I couldn't help but smile. How could the man who had hit me a couple of minutes ago look so peaceful now? He shut his eyes and grabbed my hand, giving it a small squeeze. Minutes later we were both asleep.

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