Roses for Roselyn (Niall and Harry Fanfictions)

She was just an ordinary, grounded girl with a young, obsessive sister... little did she know that her sister's biggest idol was obsessing over her. Join Rosie and Rachel on their journey in love, friendship, obsession, fame and passion. What will happen? Who will happen? And most importantly, how will they cope with the disadvantages of 'the good life'?

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113. Pain and Distractions

ROSIE'S POV:

Another sharp stab of pain rolls through my abdomen and I roll over to try and supress it. Niall sees and he starts pacing the room again and again. When the pain gets too much I have to close my eyes and roll to face the back of the couch; I don’t want him to see me like this. Ever since we got home from our shopping trip I’ve been getting worse and worse pains –signs that I’m about to start my period. The doctors always used to tell me that, due to my previous eating problems, there’d be nothing that I could do about extremely and unusually painful period pains as I got older and older.

“Rosie, love?” Niall’s crouching by the sofa, rubbing my back with clear worry in his voice. “Rosie, I’m worried, what should I do?”

“I don’t know.” Tears spring to my eyes. Why did I have to come on today? Everything between me and Niall was going great and now I’m rolling on his crouch, being stabbed every few minutes by an invisible yet crucial pain. My back aches and I feel like I could start throwing up any time soon. “Call my mum, please.” She’s normally the one who deals with this kind of stuff –she looks after me every time. The first day is always the worst.

“Okay. Call your mum… I can do that.”

“I have school tomorrow… I’ll have to go home.” I don’t know why I say it –school is the last thing on my mind. It’s probably because I feel guilty for Niall. His voice wavers whenever he talks to me in the reassuring fashion and each time I whimper in pain he looks like he’s being tormented as he rubs his hands through his hair and paces up and down, up and down, up and down. He can’t look after me when I’m like this –it will be too much for him and I’ll just feel guilty.

“Don’t be stupid. You’re not going anywhere baby. You can’t go anywhere like this. The only place you’ll be going if you leave this flat is hospital.” I suck in a deep breath and shake my head thoroughly. No. No hospitals. He’s right though –I can’t leave. “Just let me take care of you, okay? Where’s your phone?”

“Kitchen.”

The knot of pain starts to loosen, giving me a few minutes of rest before the next round of discomfort is bound to hit. I manage to blink the tears away and open my eyes to look over my shoulders to see where Niall has picked up my phone and is calling my mum. His eyes keep darting back to meet mine and he bites his fingernails down to bare stumps.

“Marie? Yeah, it’s me.” He pauses. “Rosie’s feeling bad -really bad- she’s not well. Yeah, I think that’s why. She said something about her period and that the cramps are really hurting.” Niall nods his head a few times. I’m guessing Mum’s telling him what’s going on with my body; why it’s hurting me so much; why it hurts me so much more in particular, compared to the billions of other girls who go through the exact same thing. It’s all to do with my previous anorexia. Since I went into the hospital for the first time, Mum’s been like a health freak –always asking for information and explanations to everything that could possibly go wrong in my future. Whenever I get sick she knows exactly what to do.

“Yeah, I’ve got one of those.” Pause. “No, she can’t have any more; I’ve already given her two paracetamol. Yeah, okay. Water… I can do water.” He presses my phone between his shoulder and ear as he fills a clear glass at the sink.

For the rest of their phone call Niall scurries around me and his apartment; checking things and doing as my mum instructs him. I’m so glad that I’ve got an emergency supply of pads in the side pocket of my hand bag –that would be seriously awkward. I decide that I’ve got enough time to get up and go sort myself out when Niall mutters the last few things to my mum. “No, don’t worry. She’s fine here, it will probably be worse if she ends up being shuffled around in cars and things like that. I can look after her. I’ve written everything down you’ve told me and I can look after her. It’s no problem. Okay, if I need anything I’ll just call you back. Alright, bye Marie. Don’t worry, I’ll be here the whole time.” He hangs up and makes his way over to me from the bedroom with a stack of things in his hands.

“Here, you can change into these.” I don’t even bother looking to see what he’s holding out to me when I take them with a thank you and wander glumly to the bathroom –picking my bag up on the way. As I walk through his bedroom he follows me. “Are you sure you’re okay walking? DO you need any help?” To be quite honest I’m not sure. My feet are unsteady beneath me and I’m shaking slightly, even under this soft blanket that he normally keeps on the sofa. I won’t ask for help though –I need to sort myself out in privacy.

I guess this means I’m staying the night; I’m glad –I haven’t been able to fall asleep with Niall since last week after my parents made a ‘school-means-no-sleepovers’ rule and we were both too busy on the weekend mornings for it to be worth staying around either of each other’s houses. It’s a positive thing but I feel sad; like I’m having to admit defeat to my previous problems –admit that they’ve had an impact on my life- by letting him see me like this. If I could have my way I would brush it all under the carpet and pretend everything’s okay. He’d never have to see me like this.

Once I get in to the bathroom, and I’ve changed into my spare pair of underwear, I look at what he’s given me to put on. There’s a white baggy t-shirt and grey tracksuit bottoms –along with one of Niall’s super soft knitted jumpers. I get changed quickly, but I don’t manage to make it out in time before another wave of pain hits me. I don’t see it coming and end up sliding down the tiled wall onto the floor before I can support myself as I cry out. I feel useless, weak and completely lacking in energy which is why Niall hears my crying from the bedroom. He doesn’t have a lock on his bathroom and so I’m not surprised when he ducks his head round the door and sees me. I try to cover my face, but it’s too late, he’s seen my tears. I wish the ground could swallow me up whole.

“Aww love.” With a scoop of his arms I am being carried back out of the cold tiled room. He nestles me into the right side of the bed and gets in with me so that I can bury my face against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry…” My voice comes out high and crackly, the texture of sandpaper.

“Why are you sorry? I’m sorry that you have to go through this. I’d do anything to stop you from hurting, literally anything.” He showers kisses over my hair, the way that you would when someone’s fragile and weak.

Every few minutes I feel the inevitable pain, like a pillar of metal being thrown against my body, and eventually Niall can stand to see my like this no longer. His wide eyes disappear into my hair and he places soft reassuring kisses down my neck. He picks up my legs and folds them over his hips whilst I lie facing him on my side. The position makes the pain so much more bearable and the heat of the hot water bottle calms me down from where it lies against my stomach.

I’m not sure when, maybe an hour after Niall came to my rescue and picked me up in the bathroom, he moves slightly to support his head above the pillow on his elbow and draws little circles on my calves that lie over his thighs. Eventually he gets bored and starts to rub the circles all the way up my back as I trace the lines of his collar bones and chest. Every little freckle, muscle, tan line and protruding bone is practically engraved into my memory by now, but his circles start to send me to sleep.

“Niall don’t.”

“What?”

“You’re making me fall asleep.”

He sounds surprised at my unusual distaste of sleep. “Don’t you want to get some rest love? You look tired.” I shake my head harshly. The paracetamol is starting to affect me and it’s making me feel drowsy, but at least it’s taking the pain away. I feel much calmer now –I hardly feel anything whenever the cramps roll around.

“I am tired, but I’m making the most of being with you. I don’t want to fall asleep yet –I like being with you…”

Niall catches my finger on his chest, just as I’m tracing the hem of his t-shirt. “I’ll still be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere love. You won’t miss a thing.”

“No, I will.” The panic is starting again –I’m falling asleep and I don’t want to. I want to stay here with Niall. I need to. I don’t understand half of the things I’m thinking now. Drugs are crappy things. I think I'm starting to hallucinate... I'm not sure. “You have work. You’ll go to work and I’ll be alone. I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay here all day until I can be sure that you’re better. I’ll only worry. I’ve told the boys –they know what's going on.”

“They do? But…” He has meetings –he has to go to them. He can’t just skip for me.

“No buts, I’m not going to work. It’s only some crappy meeting with modest –nothing important. The others can fill me in with it later.”

I can’t think of anything else to say than the three words, each one repetitively swirling in my head like a merry-go-round. The neon bright colours of the letters are blinding as they move up and down on their poles and transform into the shapes of horses. “I love you. Niall. I really love you. You’re the best…” Why the hell am I imagining carousel horses? I must be hallucinating.

“I love you too baby. And I’m here for you. I’ll be right here all night; making sure that you’re okay. You’re safe in my arms, I’ve got you Rosie.” He squeezes me tight, to emphasize the grip that his arms have on me as he cuddles me to his chest. My boyfriend is seriously one in a million.

“You want me to sing to you?” I remember nodding and closing my eyes to the sight of his blue ones; I remember the soft tones of his voice and the circling motions of his fingers. I also remember falling asleep and embracing the soft sheets and warm skin around me. But for the first time that I’ve ever been this sick on my period, I don’t remember the pain, and I don’t remember the usual feeling of discomfort as I slip further and further into sleep; the first real sleep I’ve ever had on any occasion where the pain has previously been as bad as it was a few hours ago. What I didn’t realise, all the months previously to now, was that it wasn’t a cure that I needed –just a distraction from the pain; a distraction in the form of my blondey-brown haired and blue eyed angel; a distraction in the form of my Niall.

©nialls_tribute

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