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'?


91. 'You're Drunk!'


We’ve just finished our kebabs, eating them off of our laps in my car, when we decide to go into the club that we are parked outside of. I didn’t want for Rachel to be drinking on an empty stomach –the thought’s helping with the guilt of smuggling an underage drinker into the club. Kebab wouldn’t have been my first choice but Rachel had insisted that it’s what she would have eaten on any night out –not an expensive meal out. I’m guessing she’s still against the idea of me spending my money on her.

No one’s noticed us through the windows, so going out onto the cold and crowded pavement seems like a waste of the peace and heat that we’ve got in here- it makes me relieved that I spoke to the club earlier to ensure easy access and that we wouldn’t have to queue.

As soon as we walk up to the doors, some people recognize us from the queue, but we step around them towards the exit, where I was told we could enter. The guy guarding the door waves us in with a smile and I shake his hand as I wait for Rachel to go in first. “Welcome to your first night in Funky Buddha.”

“My first night? I’m guessing that means that you come here a lot then.”

“It’s Liam’s favourite club.”

“Oh okay.” I take a packet of Orbit chewing gum from my jean pocket and offer Rachel one before taking one for myself.

“So what do you want to drink?” My hands are on her shoulders and I’m shouting over the crowds and loud, house music as she leads the way to the bar.

She flicks her hair around whilst she walks backwards on her heels, telling me her order. “Just a vodka coke please.”

“You sure?”

“Yep. Thanks Harry.”

She gives me a huge smile as I wave over a bar tender and order the pair of drinks for us. “So your first beer back in the UK, huh?”

“Yep.” The smile on my face probably makes me look like an alcoholic, but the beer’s not the reason why I’m smiling like crazy.

“So what did you get up to then?”

“Lots of interviews, lots of photo shoots, lots of business meetings and lots of arguing with modest -especially over the last few days.”

“I bet that makes a change.” She rolls her eyes brightly and I have to laugh with her. She’s right –the arguing never stops when it comes to Modest.

“So what about you? What’ve you been doing?”

“Skipping school.” She laughs like it’s no big deal and gives a little shrug of her shoulders.

I lean against the bar and look up and down to see if there’s anyone else I recognize here. No. Good; I don’t want anyone to gate crash our two man party tonight. “Oooh… rebel.”

“Harry.” She laughs like I’m being silly and flops onto one of the chairs beside her. I sit down too and lean against the bar with my hands supporting my head.

“Don’t you want to go dance?” I was expecting to have to keep up with her around the dance floor all night.

“Maybe later, but right now I just want to talk. Catch up… you know?” I do know. It’s exactly what I want to do too.


It’s now two hours later. We have danced, drunken ourselves silly, taken shots and even taken photos with a new group of paper who have now gone home. Rachel pulled me back to the bar about 20 minutes ago and is now persuading me to get more shots. “Come on! It’ll be fun…”

“I think you’ve had too many Rach…”

The constant giggle that emits from her mouth like small hiccups and the way that she sways drowsily on the chair is enough for me to know when no means no.

“I am not drunk Styles.”

She brings her bright white fingernails, which glow blue under the ultraviolet lights, to my face and clicks them a few times as if I’m not paying her any attention. I beg to differ.

“Can you imagine the headache you’re going to have tomorrow? No, definitely no more.”

“Fine, everyone in here thinks that I’m 18 anyway.” She now starts clapping at a bar tender impatiently. The poor guy’s serving someone else further long already so I smile at him sympathetically as he panics about who to serve –all of the staff have been given instructions that my party and I (or just Rachel) are the club’s priority, as always.

“I could tell him that he can’t serve.”

“And then look who’d be in trouble.” She leans forward to whisper and presses one finger against my arm. “We want some shots down here!” I sigh in exasperation as the barman does as she says.

He brings four Sourz shots over with an effortless smile and I see the guy eye up Rachel; she is looking particularly nice tonight in a black dress with leathery long sleeves. There are two each; a pink and purple for Rachel, a blue and green for me.

Before I can take one she takes the blue one and swaps it with her pink.


“Sorry but… hate pink…”

“And I love it?”

“Maybe? But I really love blue…”

She downs it in one and starts to look around the rest of the club and it’s extremely busy dance floor. I’ve never seen it this busy on a Sunday.

I don’t want to get extremely drunk tonight, because I’m worried about how well Rachel can look after herself when in this state, but my heads already starting to turn. The first few drinks were good but then I started to get worried that I might end up consuming more alcohol than I originally planned; with only the two of us to watch out for each other it’s crucial that I don’t lose control. I’ll need a clear head; especially when around Rach.

"Rachel where are you going?" She's getting off of her stool, swaying alarmingly close towards her right as she looks over to find someone in the crowd.

"Just over there... The people. There..." He words are slurred -she's definitely had far too much to drink since we got here 3 hours ago.

I look over at where her moving arm is trying to point towards. Across the dance floor there's a group of guys sitting in a booth on a raised platform.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so.” I try to catch her arm but she hops forwards playfully. The next thing I know is that I’m following her into the crowd of the dance floor. “Rachel! Rach! Don’t go over there! Wait up!” She weaves through people quickly and her short height doesn’t help me to keep an eye on her. I spin around a few seconds and crane over necks, muttering a quick hi to anyone who stops me. Shit, I think, I’ve lost her.

I make my way over to the table of guys that had attracted her from her seat in the first place. They didn’t look like nice guys; the types of guys who would be likely to start a fight or spend the night shagging a girl, just for a dare.

Their table is in sight and I’m approaching it in a hurry. She could already be there, sitting on one of their laps or even worse making out with one of them… No. I’ve almost worked up the courage to storm straight over and start calling the shots when someone reaches out from behind a dark pillar, latches small fingers around my wrist and pulls me backwards.

I look down and see a shy Rachel, looking up from under her lashes. When did I decide bringing her to a club would be a good idea? She’s so mischievous and confident when she’s drunk.

“Thank god. You scared me!”

“Was just playing…”

“Are you okay?” I give her a once over and see that she is fine, although she’s taken her shoes off and is now dangling them from one arm.

“Tired…” She answers with an appropriate yawn and then leans forward to rest against my chest. So… she’s a cuddly drunk as well?

“Come on you, I’m taking you home.”

It’s already into the early hours of the morning when I pay for the tab and keep a firm grasp on Rachel’s wrist so that she can’t run away again.

“I want to go dance.”

“No you don’t. You said yourself that you’re tired.”

“Oh yeah. Let’s go.” I have to disguise the short giggle with a cough as I look at her with amused eyes. Rachel’s acting delirious but looks so adorable as she spins around on the tips of her toes for no apparent reason. She look’s ready to pass out when she is facing me again and the violent swaying hasn’t stopped since her third drink this evening.

Rachel is sticking her tongue out absentmindedly and crossing her eyes to try to see it. The bar tender from earlier must have noticed us too. “Doesn’t normally drink much, huh?”


We laugh as she continues to make weird facial expressions for her own entertainment. He pulls my card out from the till and hands it back. “Okay, it’s all done. Are you sure you don’t want a cab?”

“No, I only live two streets away from here.”

“Okay, well keep an eye on her. We wouldn’t want her scaring anybody with that tongue.” I laugh pleasantly and turn back to my friend.

She notices me staring and slurs a question. “What? Have I got something on my face?”


“What then? Why are you looking at me like that?” I can’t resist that adorable smile… she’s so –no, I can’t. I have to be strong willed tonight. I can’t let the alcohol take me out. I try to keep my own balance as I support her out of the club. “It’s nothing, you’re just cute when you’re drunk…”

I smirk at her as she narrows her eyes. “What kind of dunk? Sorry… cute? Kind of cute?”

“Funny cute.”

“Not pretty cute?” She flutters her eyes at an attempt to look more appealing but her slow reaction time makes it look like she just has something in her eyes.

“Whatever cute you want babe…” I roll my eyes as I sling an arm around her short shoulder and rest my other hand under the elbow furthest away from me.

“Harry… You… I…” We step out onto the cracked pavement and I steer Rachel left towards our apartment block.


“The car! The car!” She panics as I turn my back on it and it dawns on her that we are walking.

“Sorry Rach, I can’t drive like this; we’ll have to walk…”

“Oh okay.” She calms down a bit and leans into my body to keep her balance. I really wish I hadn’t let her drink so much tonight. I wish I wasn’t so fucking tipsy. It’s so hard having to control my emotions and thoughts about the girl under my arm. “Anyone ever told you… Harry… your dimple is pretty.” She reaches a drunk hand up to my face but I move it back to rest at her side before she can touch my smile. She doesn’t know what she’s doing; it would be different if she was sober.

“Pretty huh? Anyone told you you’re a handful when you’re drunk?”

“Lots of people… Rosie all the time… annoys me but I don’t listen.”

I end up losing concentration on her story that never seems to conclude itself. She just goes on and on until I nearly trip over because my friend who stands under my arm comes to such an abrupt stop. I look at her with worry; her brown eyes seem to be wondering the streets with no particular direction and she would have fallen over by now if I didn’t keep pulling her back into an upright position for each time that she sways.


Rachel’s voice is soft and childlike. I’m really glad that I got to spend the night with her –she’s one of my closest friends after the boys.


“Kiss me.” The statement shocks me. I certainly wasn’t expecting that. What do I do? I’ve been thinking about doing it for so long but never had the guts… if only… No.


The hurt in her eyes is there for a short second, making me want to take back the decision, but then they return to be glassy and mysteriously absent. 

“Come on… Kiss me.” Rach’s expression is hopeful and flirty, but the unnatural mischievousness that is there reminds me that she is unaware of what she is doing. If I did kiss her, then she would regret it the next day and I would get pissed off with myself for agreeing to her alcohol influenced idea. Would I ever be able to think of her in the same way again? No, definitely not.

Reminding myself that tonight was not a date was hard enough -without all of the mixed messages and added pressures. We are just friends.

But maybe if… no. I will not take advantage of her –even that has to include kissing her, when it’s what she wants from me and what I’ve wanted since I first laid eyes on her.

“I can’t. You’re drunk. It wouldn’t be fair…” Although who it would be unfair to, I haven’t quite decided yet.


As I predicted, she carries on down the road like nothing happened, signifying that it was only the alcohol talking. She’s about to take another step when I notice the smashed bottle on the floor and remember that Rachel’s shoes are currently swinging at her side –her hands hooked through the straps.

“Rachel wait.”

She must think that I’ve changed my mind because she smiles in this adorable way that always makes me feel warm, and closes her eyes tightly so that she can pout her lips. She thinks I’m going to kiss her. I can’t just leave her like that so I plant one big and exaggerated kiss on her cheek before scooping her into my arms.

“What are you doing?” Rachel is giggling and kicking her legs light heartedly.

“There’s glass on the floor.”

She imitates my accent and then whispers something –I mistake it for my name but think better of it. The next time that I look down at her she is half asleep in my arms. Two roads have never felt so long to walk.


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