Wanting What's Wrong

Two years have passed since Sophie Miller escaped. Two years since she was One DIrections private possession. Trying to get her life back to normal, Sophie heads to Mullingar. The boys of One Direction find her and drag her back into their messed up lives. Feelings start showing here and there, making Sophie confused. Is it really okay to start having feelings towards your kidnappers? Afterall, there is a very thin line between love and hate...


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8. Decisions

I feel an arm around me and a steady respiration against my neck. The body behind mine rouses a bit, before letting out a soft sigh. I was in a spooning position with someone. I dig into my mind a bit, trying to reminisce who was that person. Niall. It’s only Niall. Niall who apparently had feelings for me. What am I gonna say to him when he’ll wake up?

I don’t find the will to move away from him just yet.

Sighing softly, I drift back to sleep. But it’s short lived.

“Niall! Niall! Wake up! She’s gone!” An angry shout followed by dry knocks on a wooden surface stirs me out of my sleepy state. Niall also awakens from behind me, jolting upwards as the four boys stampede inside his small room.

“Niall! Sophie’s...” Louis stops dead in his tracks, seeing me in Niall’s bed. “Not gone.” He finishes, looking at me curiously. “Why are you here?” He asks, emphasizing on the ‘here’.

Harry crosses his arms over his chest, furious. He’s almost immediately imitated by the three others.

“I-I-I” I stutter but Niall beats me to it.

“She deserved punishment from last night. Don’t think she’ll be biting me again soon.” He lies fluently.

“She’s still clothed.” Harry argues.

“Not every punishment has to be done naked Harry.” I snap, before slapping myself inwardly.

“Watch the attitude sweet cheeks.” Liam warns.

“Whatever.” I mutter under my breath, digging my face into Niall’s pillow.

“Soph, look at us when were talking to you.” Zayn demands.

Their eyes shoot daggers as I look back up at them.

“Could you all stop talking to me like I’m a child? I’m eighteen for God’s sake!” I huff.

“Well stop with the bratty attitude then.” Liam ends. It took me a lot of will not to reply to him.

“The question is, was she punished for her behaviour?” Harry asks Niall.

“Yes. I roughened her up a bit.” Niall responds, squeezing my thigh. I writhe a little in discomfort.

“Show me what you did to her.” Harry orders. What?!?

I gulp as Niall swiftly nails me down on his bed, giving me a small sorry look before ridding me of my hoodie. My hands reflexively go to cover my bare chest, but Niall grabs them and pins them over my head roughly. I whimper, trying to squirm out of his firm grasp as I feel five pairs of eyes locked on my vulnerable body. The blonde leans down on me, his hands still firmly clasped around my wrists as his mouth descends on a nipple.

I shut my eyes, not wanting to believe that Niall, who said himself that he had feelings for me, would do this to prove a point. Weirdly, nobody made me open them as his hips start humping mine, his tongue twirling delightfully slow circles around my sensible skin.

 I start struggling against his grip, not liking the way this was going.

My eyes snap open as he lightly bites the pebbled nipple. His cerulean eyes meet mine and I can’t help the moan escaping my lips. I instinctively bite my lip as I feel myself reddening in embarrassment, remembering that Niall and I weren’t alone in the room.

“Don’t keep it in.” Harry orders. “And certainly don’t be ashamed.”

I gasp, feeling Niall growing in his sweatpants as he keeps grinding his hips against mine with more and more fervour. His mouth starts working on my other breast, his eyes never leaving mine as he tries finishing the dry sex. With a few other hip thrusts, he manages to make me groan loudly, to all the boys’ audible pleasure.

“Here.” He pants, handing me my hoodie back. I put it on with a cold glare.

“If you really did that, then why I was she still clothed this morning?” Harry demands again.

“It was a cold night.” Niall replies. “I let her get dressed afterwards.”

Harry’s about to protest but Louis cuts him swiftly.

“I’m pretty sure we can talk about the temperature later. Right now, it’s late and we all have to go to school. You, Sophie, have to get dressed.” Louis claps, as everyone heads to their rooms to get ready. Harry practically pulls me out of Niall sheet’s and back to my room. He sets me on my bed, as Louis looks at me up and down.

“Now get dressed.” The younger one of the two tells me before turning around.

“All my stuff is at home.” I retort.

“This is home. And Louis has clothes for you here I’m sure.” Harry argues.

“This will never be home. Plus I doubt Louis has school uniforms for me here. Do you Lou?” I ask the older-boy.

“Yeah Hazz... I don’t have uniforms.” Louis agrees slowly. “And I have to get ready myself...” He adds before leaving to his room.

The green-eyed boy rubs his temples, sighing.

“You have ten minutes to head downstairs and eat breakfast. I’ll drive you to your flat, we’ll pick up your things and I’ll drive you to school after. Time starts now. Oh and you have to go through one of our rooms to get to breakfast... I can’t guarantee you they won’t do anything to you but... It’s your only way out.”

I huff in annoyance. Why did I have to have a shitty room like this?!? I’ll just go see Niall... He wouldn’t do anything to me right? I think. Or maybe he would, I debate, recalling what he had just previously done to me in front of all the boys. Why is everybody in this manor so fucking bi-polar?

“One more thing,” Harry says before entering his room. “You can’t go see Niall; you were there this morning already. I’ll be watching...” He smirks, before closing his door.

Fuckin’ great. Now who’s will I go to? Maybe I can just run through one of them?

I analyze my choices rapidly mentally.

Harry. I won't go through Harry's. I can’t go through Harry’s. He’s aggressive, possessive, horny all the time, and is guaranteed to make a move on me, even though I try running. Plus running might only make him angrier. Harry may seem to care sometimes, but he lets his hormones get the best of him generally. And I don’t really want that right now.

Louis.  Louis is a tease and his room is a complete mess. No way in hell I can think of bolting through it without spraining an ankle. With Louis there is no doubt that he would also make a move on me. I don’t think he’d care about lateness or anything, he is reckless. Not a good idea.

Zayn. He still scares me. He could snap at any moment and decide to have his way with me, or not. Maybe he’s more reluctant because last time he did, the boys were cross with him and they had a fight, resulting: me being injured. Maybe he’s still guilty. But Zayn is Zayn. Mysterious, unpredictable, moody:  a terrifying combination. I can still clearly remember that morning, the pools of ebony in his eyes turning dark from lust and anger because I wasn’t obeying him or whatever.

I shiver remembering.

My thoughts drift as my gaze falls on Padgett, the stuffed turtle laying in the corner of my room.

Liam. Going through Liam’s could be possible. Out of all of them, without counting Niall, he would be the easiest to reason with. Don’t think he’d want to be late for school. But Liam’s been crabby since my return. More aggressive. Like all the small things I do are suddenly bad.  Maybe his lustful side is more present? I hope not. But he did smile a bit when he realized I kept Padgett. I think that’s a good sign. I’ll go through Liam’s room.

I sigh after my quick thinking, my gaze heads to Niall’s door once before heading the opposite direction, towards Liam's. Inhaling and exhaling determinedly, I grasp the doorknob and rotate it slowly, peeking inside before entering the room. I gasp. For one thing, it was tidy and another, Liam wasn’t there. At least, I didn’t see him in the room. Should I scram through his room? Nah... He’s not there. I can take my time. Maybe he’s out showering... I close the door behind me.

The knob on the door perpendicular to mine rattles and opens.

Just my luck, Liam enters his room wet, in nothing but a clad towel around his waist.

Or maybe he’s done showering.

No shit Sherlock.

 Sophie, you’ve gone bonkers, you’re arguing with yourself right now.

Yeah well, at least my mind is free of doing what it pleases.

Don’t remind me.

“Can I help you with something?” Liam asks pulling me out of my mental debate, his eyebrow cocking up in interrogation. He pulls his towel a little higher on his waist.

My traitorous gaze goes down his body to his fine v-line before heading back up to his chocolate orbs.

“I only wanted to go downstairs to breakfast.” I say truthfully. Please be okay with that, please be okay with that, please be okay with that.

He looks at me inquisitively, clearly doubting my sayings. Reflexively arranging his towel, Liam’s gaze heads for the clock on his bedside table with a calculative look. He shrugs.

“I don’t want to be late for school right now so I’ll let you go without anything.” I smile and sigh in relief. “But I’ll be wanting that favour returned.” He warns.

I roll my eyes. Should’ve known it was too good to be true.

“Why did you keep Padgett?” he asks suddenly. “And be honest.” He adds sternly.

I sigh loudly, before answering carefully. “To remember all the good things that happened while I was abducted. Because the bad are already engraved in my memory permanently, I kept him as a reminder that there was some good in all of you. Hopefully there still is.”

“How can a plush turtle remind you of all? Memories fade you know.” He highlights.

“There’s more to him than the eye can see.” I reply dryly.

And it was true. Three days after I had been safely brought at Ashley’s house by Alana two years ago, I had written all the good things that happened with the boys on multiple pieces of paper. Only a couple days after, I decided to open Padgett’s back, and cram the bits inside, riding it of some of its stuffing. I sewed it back closed after. So technically all the good memories literally stayed with Padgett all the time. Maybe I’d open him up again one day. Maybe I’d even add some? I shake my head, uncertain.

“Can I go downstairs now? My stomach screams hunger.”  I start making my way across his room but he stops me.

“Wait. I’ll go downstairs with you. Wouldn’t want you getting lost.” He adds smirking. And just like that, he drops the towel. My gaze averts from his lower body, embarrassed. He laughs truthfully grabbing trousers and a blouse. I don’t look at him as he starts getting dressed.

“You’re funny Sophie... You look when it’s wrong, but you get embarrassed when the person doesn’t mind you looking. Yeah, you can look now.” He says, buttoning up his blouse.

“What do you mean I look when it’s wrong?” I say, placing my hands over my hips.

“You practically ogled me when I walked in, staring at me like I was eye candy.” He points out. “And you never shut your eyes for long once we start doing things to you...And you look at our bodies when you think we’re not looking.”

“Hormones.” I say simply.

“Right.” He chuckles. “Let’s say I believe you.” He laughs some more. “Let’s go down now. I think breakfast is ready, and Niall’s already eating it.” Liam says, grabbing my arm and pulling me through the same corridor Louis had dragged me through earlier last night. Although we seem closer to the staircase. So there’s Liam's room, then Louis, both in the same corridor. Good to know.

I’m taking mental notes as Liam drags me around the mansion, until we arrive into the dining room. Steamy pancakes are placed on a plate in the middle of the table. Niall is already taking his share. Who even has the time to bake pancakes on a school morning?

“You should serve yourself Soph,” Harry says, entering the dining room with a fresh batch of pancakes in hand. “You still have three minutes.”

Harry Styles of course.

I roll my eyes and grab food, almost imitating Niall on the quantity. Almost.

Soon enough, I’m finished eating and Harry pulls me in to his car. He places his ray bans on his eyes and smiles at me cheekily before starting the engine. Were on the road not long after. I feel depressed and my face twists into a frown.

“Aww come on! Soph! Turn that frown upside down.” Harry says. “Souris, la vie est un fromage!” He adds in a bad French accent.

I can’t help the snigger. “You should keep saying the thing you say repeatedly in French interviews instead of trying something new. You know like the usual ‘Je m’appelle Harry.’ And ‘Je suis allé au cinéma avec mes copains et ma famille,” I laugh again.

“I don’t care if my accent is bad or not, I made you giggle!” He indicates, proud of himself.

I roll my eyes and huff angrily, my mood being ruined by his pompous remark. I just cross my arms over my chest and slouch in the seat, looking morosely at the countryside as we rolled past it.

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