Criminal like you

Elena took a favor from a friend. She didn't realize how bad the favor was until she had to hide a criminal from people who want to kill him. Her life is threatened because of this man; Niall James Horan.


2. Can't Cook

"What the fuck are you doing?" I screamed as I ran down my stairs and into the kitchen. "Well for a thank you I was gonna make you breakfast. But aye I understand if someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." He threw his hands up and walked away from the burning eggs and bacon. "Thanks but no thanks." I snapped. Yeah that was a little rude but I don't know if I can trust him yet. I grabbed the steaming hot pan and threw the remains of the eggs and bacon into the trash. I took a sharp breath as the pan began burning my hand. I dropped the pan into the sink and turned on the cold water to cool it off. "You okay?" Niall asked as he looked over my shoulder at my hand. "Perfectly fine." I hissed as I clenched my teeth to hold back from crying because of the fire burning pain in my hand. "No you're not. Let me see it." He turned me around and grabbed my hand. I screamed as he put my hand under the cold water. "Breath in from your mouth and out threw your nose." He whispered as he wrapped a cold wet towel around my hand. I did as I was told. It began calming me down. He wrapped gauze around my whole hand. "Thank you." I whispered. My hand still throbbed but it felt okay. "Let's go to the nearest convince store." Niall PRACTIALLY ordered me as he threw on his leather jacket. "Um no. I'll go by myself." I replied and slid on my fleece sweater. "Yeahuh." He nodded and walked out the door. Damn he never listens. I jogged after him and climbed into the drivers seat.

We got back home without any trouble. While we were at the store we got three jugs of ice cream, two cases of soda, and some ointment for my burn. "Alright, ice cream for dinner!" Niall rubbed his hands together. "Haha no. I'm twenty and I've never had a cavity. Better stay that way." I grabbed the ointment and rubbed it on my hand. "One cartoon of ice cream won't kill you." He slid a cartoon over to me. It was cow tracks. "Fine." I gave in and ate my cartoon.

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