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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32. Distant

Sorry for the short chapter guys, promise the next one will be longer x

 

Crystals POV 

Screaming. Shouting. Hitting. Kicking. 
Everywhere.
"Niall?" I shout into the darkness. I'm only answered by silence. 
"Niall!" I call out again.
"Crystal, please help." He calls, voice strained.
"Niall! Niall, where are you?" I ask, becoming desperate. I needed to see him, I needed to make sure he was okay. 
"Please, help." His voice is getting further away.
"Niall!" I shout, trying to stand up. My legs are weak and I fall back to the ground again with a harsh thump.
"Help," he says, his voice distant. 
"Niall." I whisper as a white light engulfs me. 

I sit up in bed, biting back a scream. Sweat causes my shirt to stick to me even though it was freezing outside.
"Crystal," someone says and I turn slightly to see Niall sitting up beside me in bed. 
"Alright?" He asks, squinting in the darkness at me. I bite my lip and nod, my breathing slowing down. I'd been having the same nightmare for a week now. Every night. 
"It's okay, it was just a dream." He pulls me down gently and I rest my head on the pillow, taking a deep breath. Niall lifts me and lays my head on his chest. I listen to the calming sound of his heart beneath my ear. He picks up my arm and begins to trace a finger up and down it and I can feel as his finger run over the bumps of my scars and cuts. He had been so protective of me lately; I wasn't allowed out of the apartment. Perrie and Eleanor had promised to take me shopping tomorrow when the boys went for an interview. Their tour started next week and Niall was obviously at unease about leaving me here. It was only for a month even though I'm sure it would feel like a millennium. 
"Please tell me what it's about," he whispers, dragging his finger away from my arm and into my hair. He twirls it between his finger and thumb and I shake my head slowly. He doesn't push, even though I knew it was killing him. It was so obvious that he wanted to help me but I kept pushing him away. I didn't want to drag him into the mess that was my mind. 

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