Broken Crystals

When Crystal collapses in the middle of the road after another beating, headlights are the last thing she sees. She wakes up in a strange house, surrounded by five strange boys. She refuses to relax around them or be herself. But can the one Irish boy with the beautiful blue eyes show her what it means to be loved and fix her cracks?

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3. Calories

**Niall's P.O.V**

 

I winced at the sight of her frail body, I had to turn away. I wanted to catch whatever monster had done this to the poor girl and beat them so they would experience the pain. She was so thin. She looked like she hadn't eaten properly in months. Her eyes were hollow and empty. She looked lost. I just wanted to cuddle her and take her pain away. But I couldn't. She wouldn't even let me near her. I gaze down again at the purple bruises, cuts, slashes and marks covering her whole torso, all the way down her arms and up to her neck. She looked broken.

 

**Crystal's P.O.V**

 

I fell in to a rough fit of sleep and nightmares. I wake up finally to the smell of food and my stomach rumbles. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

Too many calories.

Calories.

Calories.

Calories.

Do you want to be fatter?

But you can't survive.

I groan as my body and mind have an internal argument. Finally, I give in and get out of the bed. I'm dressed in a boy's t-shirt. It falls down to my calf and I'm thankful that it covers most of my bruises. Except the scars on my arms. I follow the scent across the hallway and I pad bare foot along to a large room. I stand in the doorway, gawking at the food on the side. A boy with curly brown hair is standing infront of the stove, cooking bacon in a frying pan. My mouth begins to water and I mentally struggle to contain myself.

Calories.

Fat.

Calories.

No.

Hunger.

Pain.

No.

The boy turns around and spots me, his eyes cautious. He waves the frying pan in the air, his eyebrows raised. I nod curtly and take a seat on one of the barstools. Without saying anything, the boy slides the bacon on to the plate and hands it to me. I devour it in seconds.

Immediately I feel guilty.

Calories.

My throat clenches as I think of the fat that I just consumed. I cover my mouth with my hand as the bile rises to my mouth. The bitter taste swarming over my tongue. I rush to the sink and throw up. The boy pats my back as the sick pours from my body. I fall to the ground in a fit of tears.

“Harry?” A boy asks from the doorway.

“Niall, I don't know what to do.” He says, pointing to me on the floor. The blonde boy slowly walks over to me and picks me up, cradling me like a small child in his arms. I bury my head in his strong chest, inhaling his scent.

“It's alright,” He murmurs as I let out more tears. He kicks open a door and leads me in to a room. He lays me down on the bed and disappears in to another room attached to this one. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of rushing water. After about ten minutes, the boy returns and lifts me again. He takes me in to the bathroom and the bath comes in to view. It's full of steaming water, bubbles top it and the strong floral scent fills my nose. He gently puts me down and then leaves the room without saying a word. I let the t-shirt fall to the ground and I slip in to the huge bath. It was large enough to fit three people.

“Crystal?” The Irish voice drags through the door.

“Yes?” I murmur.

“I have some clothes for you,” The door slowly opens and I sink further in to the bubbles. A hand appears and drops a bundle of clothing on to the tiled floor.

“Thank you,” I manage to say before he closes the door. I sink under the warm water and let out a scream, trying to get rid of all these horrible emotions. I knew I couldn't stay here. He would find me some how. The boy would soon get sick of me and he would throw me out on to the street. He would pretend he never knew me.

Like everyone did.

I resurface and wipe the water from my eyes. I let my now wet hair down and it clings to my back. I sit in the warm water, letting the water soak my muscles.

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