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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66. Crimson Red

 

Crystal's POV

 

"Costa?" El suggests, nodding across the shopping centre. We all agree and head inside. Susie holds the door open for me as I push Calla's pram through.

"I'll go get us drinks," Perrie says half-heartedly, wandering over to the counter. We all settle down at a table and I leave Cee in her pram by the side; her eyes drifting shut.
"What's happened?" Susie asks once Perrie is out of ear shot. El nods at me from across the large booth. Slowly, I push Calla's pram back and forth whilst I look over at Perrie to check she couldn't hear.
"Zayn," I sigh, rubbing my other hand over my face tensely. 
"What has he done?" Danielle asks, looking worriedly over at Perrie where she stood in line.
"He's been texting another girl," I explain, drawing a gasp from Susie.
"Texting her what?" El asks, eyes rounding out.
"Stuff that shouldn't be sent by a boy with a girlfriend." I reply. 
"Do you know who the girl is?" Susie says, voice worried.
"Nope, all it said was 'Q'," My words finish as Perrie turns around and heads back over to the table.
"What are we all doing for dinner tonight then?" Perrie asks as she sits down, false happiness in her tone. El looks at me and I shrug.
"I think Lou wanted to go out," El says carefully, watching Perrie. 
"All of us?" Danielle asks her and she nods.
"Here you go," the waitress says, placing the tray full of drinks onto the table with a grin as few minutes later. 
"Thank you," we all chorus, each taking our mugs. Taking a sip of mine, I push Calla's pram slightly again; noticing the sad look on Perrie's face as she stirs her coffee with the straw. The rest of the girls all begin talking excitedly about tonight and I watch the pained expression Perrie takes on when they mention the restaurants.
"You don't have to go," I say softly to her. She meets my eyes with a sigh.
"No, I want to. I just don't know what's going to happen, that's all." She looks down and traces a pattern with her  fingertip on the wooden table. 

*****

"Will they be okay?" Niall whispers in my ear, nodding up ahead where Perrie was walking beside El and Louis. Zayn was at the front with Harry; avoiding all of the girls, especially me and Perrie. I shrug in response to his question. To be honest, I had no idea. We all file into the restaurant and immediately a buzz goes up. People begin talking and pointing. Cee was on my hip, clutching to the strap of my top. She drags her small hand delicately down my face so I turn it and press my lips to her palm; blowing a raspberry on it. She giggles and pulls away as we all get led over to a huge table at the back of the restaurant. No one could bother us here. I sit down beside Niall and place Calla into the high chair that one of the waiters had brought over hastily. I watch as Perrie hesitates before slowly sinking down into the seat beside El. I smile at her but she doesn't respond, just looking at the menu absentmindedly. 

The rest of the night goes by slowly. The atmosphere was extremely tense; everyone could feel it. As everyone is getting their things together to leave, Perrie murmurs that she's going to the toilet. I shoot a concerned look at El who mouths 'Go' at me. I tell Niall I'll be two minutes before rushing after her.
"Perrie?" I call out softly into the bathroom as I push open the door. No response comes; the sound of muffled sobs coming from one of the cubicals. I knock on the door but she doesn't answer.
"Perrie, you have to come out sometime." I say gently, bending down onto the floor and peeking under the door. She was slumped on the closed toilet lid, face buried in her hands. She was crying; back heaving with every sob. 
"Can you open the door please," I ask, causing her to lift her head up to look at me. 
"I can literally feel something making my hair wet and I'm terrified of what it might be." I groan, causing her to chuckle slightly. She stands up, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her top before stepping over and unlocking the door.
"Urgh," I stand up and wipe the dust and dirt from my clothes before taking her hand and leading her to the sinks. She huddles onto the counter and sits there, tears still marking her cheeks. I grab some tissue from the toilet and hand it to her, watching as she wipes her eyes and cheeks. She takes a deep breath and exhales, closing her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Crystal." She says slowly, eyes opening to look at me.
"What on earth are you apologizing for?" I exclaim, wiping hair away from her face gently.
"For being such a drama queen," She adds, looking sadly down at her hands in her lap.
"Perrie!" I exclaim again, taking a seat on the counter beside her.
"You're not," I tell her, voice softening.
"You're hurt." I add. She doesn't say anything, continuing to look down at her hands. 
"Is it something more than what he did?" I ask carefully, looking at her. She turns to face me, face falling. She bites her lip and nods slowly.
"Do you want to share it with me? Maybe I can help?" I suggest. I watch as she ponders for a while before reaching into her handbag and digging around. She pulls out a pile of envelops kept together with an elastic band. I frown in confusion as she hesitantly passes them to me. They had already been opened; no writing on the front. I pull of the elastic band and Perrie watches it in despair as it tumbles to the tiled floor.  All of the envelopes were a crimson red. I take the first one, pulling out a single sheet of paper. On it the words 'Miss me?' printed in matching red ink. I place it on the counter beside me and take the next one. Inside were four pictures. Old pictures. A woman holding a baby. A man with a baby on his shoulders. Two young children side by side. A young child and a dog beside them at what looked like to be a beach. But there was something wrong with all of the pictures. In each and every one, the faces of the young children were scribbled over in red pen.
"Perrie..." I murmur, eyes scanning over the pictures again.
"What are these?" 

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