Freedom Isn't Only Physical(One Direction Fanfic)

Mary(also known as Mars Bars) was one of the girls you would consider popular. She had a normal life, better than the average person would--but when her father is murdered during a day at work, her mother becomes an empty shell. After a night the both regret, Mary leaves her house in search of a new life--and just so happens to run into five boys that change her life.
(Fanfic about One Direction... and a specific boy. Taken at a realistic pace(I hope). I don't own the cover image!)


5. Love Over a Television Show

Yawning, I stumbled out of the bedroom while rubbing my eyes with my fists, absentmindedly. Sleep still clouded my mind, dulling the aching sensation in my leg and elbows. Brett had insisted I stay the night. He wanted me to eat good, give me more 'supplies', money, and let me have a good place to rest my head until I at least half-way healed. I resisted at first, not wanting to impose, but, eventually, I gave into him. I was not a big 'trust this guy because he says so' type of gal--but, honestly, what choice did I have? So I trusted him.

"Hey, you," I mumbled, falling against the couch he lounged on. I flopped over, half of my body on the other side of the couch while I dangled.

"Hey, you," he replied, not looking up from the television.

I straightened up, stretching out my aching limbs. My elbows strained with the movement and I grimaced, limping around the side of the couch and falling down into the couch. "Oh, man," I grunted, rubbing my temple.

He glanced over at me, blinking. I watched as his long eyelashes brushed his cheek, hiding away his beautiful hazel eyes for just a split second. I studied his dirty brown hair, hazel eyes, manly brown eyebrows. He was, I realized, breathtaking.

"Aw, not this group again, I hate these bloody... British men. And the one Irish man," he said, mimicking a British and Irish accent. I chuckled slightly. My throat tensed and I cringed, swallowing a cough that began to massage it's way up my throat.

"Who?" I asked, swiveling my eyes over to the television screen, rudely propping my injured leg onto his wooden coffee table. He made no comment, so I shifted to become more comfortable. Sure, I seemed rude--but when someone says 'make yourself at home', I bloody do!

"One Direction," he replied, scowling at the television with a bored look in his eyes. I fought back another soft laugh and watched as a snapshot of five boys slowly turned, zooming in on their faces.

"Not bad lookin'," I teased--but, that was no lie. They were, in fact, really good looking. One in particular. They all stood, posing like monkeys, with suits on, heads tilted to give them an arrogant look. Smiles were plastered on their fancy faces, their hair all thrown about in a beautiful mess. Okay--really, really good looking.

"Oh, shut up, they are gross. Have you heard their music?" he asked, much more interested in me by now.


"You're kidding. Have you been living under a rock?"


He scowled at me, clearly unsettled by how easily I was blowing this off. "You're insane. These guys are, like, ... popular."

"I don't care."

"Very popular."

"Not caring," I replied, smiling cheekily at the way he was getting flustered. His little cheeks grew red with anger and he rubbed at his forehead, gazing at the floor in annoyance. I looked back at the screen when music began to sing from it, a smile still etched on my features. Suddenly, it all went black. I frowned.

"Hey! Why'd you do that?" I growled at him, reaching towards the remote which he held, tight, in his grip.

"My telly," he replied, still mimicking that accent. I scowled.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I know I am way taking advantage of this. I'm ready to go, just give me an hour, okay? It'd be nice," I continued, "if you could... please... drive me somewhere?" Man, was I imposing or not. But my life was hard now, I had too.

"Are you sure you're ready to go, Mary?"


"Then, of course I will."



"Right here is fine," I said, pointing for a 7/Eleven. He glanced at me, perplexed.

"Mary, why don't you go in there, buy us a snack, and come back with me? You shouldn't be out, all alone..." he trailed off. I sighed, low and deep in my throat. Honestly, his company was wonderful, and he was cute, too, but I imposed enough.

"No, Brett. Thank you, so much," I looked at him as he pulled up to the store. I unbuckled my belt and leaned over to him just as he stopped, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for everything."

And I left.

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