The Irish One

I'm not Pretty... On the Inside Or Out
Chapter 13- I'm Not Pretty. . . On The Inside Or Out
Chapter Song~ Even Robots Need Blankets, Mayday Parade
If It Means Something To You, A Day To Remember
[Avaline's Apartment, 07:00]
I awoke the next morning feeling abnormally hot. I've always been sort of hot blooded, except this time the warmth was not radiating from me. I go to sit up but am immediately tugged back down- quite weakly I may add. 'The fuck is going on?' I grumble irritably. I turn over to my side and came face to face with a sleeping blond.
Exhausted snores softly escaped from his parted lips and his blonde, almost non-existant lashed lay tiredly on his upper cheeks, a dark circle clearly visible under his right eye was clearly evident. Zayn was right, he really was sporting a nasty black eye. Serves him right, I thought, now he knows not to mess with me. His face was smothered partially by the pillow his dead was resting on while his hair stuck out in every which way. A part of me wanted to say his crazy bedhead resembled Einstein's frizzy, white fluff of a hair style however, I could never correlate anything that was remotely Niall to the great mastermind. It was impossible.
I felt my eyes wonder from his hair down to his nose, to his square-ish jaw and softly rounded chin down to his chest. His shirt was tugged down some due to the position he was sleeping in. He had some blond chest hair that stood out from his fair skin. My hand hovered cautiously over his chest. Do I touch Him? We're right next to each other so. . .
Isn't this what girls normally do anyway?
I placed my hand gently over his heart. It was beating, which was good I guess. I run my fingers over his collar bone and around the neck line of his shirt, my fingers pricked by the coarse hair that was on his chest.
I felt my lips part at the sight of him for a moment. I brought my eyes up to his closed ones.
He didn't have the face of a god or anything of that sort. He was completely average looking. Just a normal everyday looking guy. He had a couple of moles on his neck, blackheads scattered across his nose and one of his eyebrows was thinner than the other. This was no perfect boy. In fact, this boy had so many physical flaws that would deter a lot of the women he probably tries to go after. . . which makes me question why he was there with me. The uneven eyebrows, the nose that-to me- resembles slightly of an upside-down mushroom at times, his ruddy cheeks, how one of his front teeth overlap the other. This boy had nothing to him either- almost had the body a fourteen year old but not quite..
This imperfect being that doesn't really play the drums- I know a drummer when I meet one and he is not it- and terrible at telling simple white lies. . .
This boy was imperfect, but not perfectly imperfect. Just. . . imperfect. He was a real, genuine lad. And I have come to find that the boys of that species to be the most devastating. Worse than the players, even. At least when you are being played, you are just a part of some fabricated game. Someone like him...
Like him..
That's all real. None of that was a game.
The words he says, the promises he tries to make, the heart break in the end... That's all real. Those were real words and real promises that he intended on keeping and real feeling of regret that he ever laid eyes on you in the first place.
Players just walk out. They just talk without hearing themselves. You realize they only had the intention of hurting you. What hurts the most is getting your hear broken by the one you thought was different.
I pull myself from my thoughts and focus on his face. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pulled down into a slight frown. He had a bit of drool running down the corner of his mouth. Wow, I thought, whoever is lucky enough to end up with you has landed themselves the world's most graceful sleeper. I laugh at my own comment, but quickly hushed myself when I heard him emit a soft moan.
Whoever's lucky enough. . .
I diverted my gaze.
His arm was draped around my waist and loosely gripped the back of my t-shirt. I felt something move in me a bit.
Niall started to stir a little and I quickly sat up. "Hey," he croaks out sleepily, offering me a lazy smile.
"You hungry?" I ask him. He nods slowly and lets out a loud yawn before standing up, striking several funny poses as he stretched out all of his muscles, his joints making that satisfying crack as he stood up straight again. He followed me to the kitchen and sat down at the small little fold out table. I got out some toaster pastries and began to heat them up.
"Sleep okay?" Why the fuck did I care?
"Yeah," he sighs. "Not the most comfortable sofa, but no complaints here."
"As you complain," I mutter. His cheeks go red. "Up for one more movie?"
"Another one?"
"Why not?"
"But we watched a film already."
"You never stated how many, and technically, film nights include more than one you know." I wink. Niall rolls his eyes before shrugging his shoulders.
"As long as you're feeding me, I'm all yours."
"I've got no food."
"Never say those words again." he fakes a tacky English accent.
I roll my eyes. "We'll watch something not so intense, yeah?" He nods his head giddily. After they were toasted and frosted, I put them on a plate and carried them to the main room where we sat down- both on opposite sides of the couch. "What do you want to watch."
"Doesn't matter," He shrugs, stuffing about half of the rectangle pastry into his mouth. What a glutton- a sweet, amazing little food glutton.
I begin to brows through the selections and I'm scrolling through the lists of titles, one sort of jumped out at me. "One Direction," I read. "Sounds like the name of a porn, am I right?" The picture quality of the cover art wasn't all that great.
"Y-yeah." He stammers. "Why don't we watch something better?"
"No way! The best part of a film night. . . well I suppose it's technically morning. .. anyway, no film even is good without the commentary. You have to watch a bad quality movie, Ni. It's the rules!" I click on the movie and read the description aloud. "One Direction: This Is Us is a captivating and intimate all-access look at life on the road for the global music phenomenon- These people are literally doing what Michael Jackson did, same with fucking Hanna Montana- Weaved with stunning live concert footage, this inspiring feature film tells the remarkable story of Niall, Zayn, Liam. . ." I stopped reading and looked over at him. He looked a little guilty, embarrassed, and hurt, he withdrew into the corner of the sofa. The bloke wouldn't look at me. He wouldn't make eye contact.
"What. . . " I tried to say. My voice sounded a bit horse, which is normally what happens when I am angry. "What the hell is this?"
Niall shakes his head. "I.. I didn't want you to know."
"Know what, Niall? What the hell was I not supposed to find out. Oh wait, hold on." I click play and the film started. It showed the front doors of five different houses along with primary school pictures. I hear Niall and Liam's, Louis', Harry's and Zayn's voices narrating different parts. Then there was Niall, center focus.
". . . This is why we have the best fans in the world." He says. He jumps up from the chair and jogs over to a window and opened it up.
Every second into the film, I felt my face get hotter and hotter. Finally, I turned off the teli entirely. I didn't want to watch anymore.
"Talk."
"W-what?' he says. He turns to me.
"I said talk."
"What do you want me to say?"
"How long were planning to keep this from me?"
"Well," He starts. "I wasn't going to keep it from you, was kind'a hoping that you'd just pick up on it."
"Well, I did."
"Yeah. . . "
I get up and began to pace around for a bit, running my fingers through my hair and tugging at the roots. It was quiet. Just quiet. I heard Niall let out a sniffle here and there, but the room was enshrouded with silence. We were soaking in it.
"DAMN IT!" I suddenly shout. I threw the bag of gummies across the room suddenly, causing Niall to jump. "I feel so stupid. Fucking hell... I completely made a fool of myself. Why didn't you tell me Niall? Why are you really here!"
Niall sighs. "We were on our way to London to begin recording again but there were paparazzi following us so we had to take a detour. And not telling you was Liam's idea. But it was honestly the best thing that could have ever happened since this band took off. This was a great experience. I got to feel normal, again."
"So I'm a fucking experiment?"
"No, Not at all!" He jumps up and wraps his arms around me. "I didn't think it'd go this far.. I just. I dunno, wanted to talk and-""No," I mutter. A sudden surge of annoyance and frustration shot through my body. "Get up." I snap. I detangle myself from him and flung his arm off of me. Niall jumped, the sudden force causing him to stumble and fall back on the couch. I could tell he was startled by the sudden action and his eyes wide with alarm. "AJ, I'm sorry." he croaks, rubbing at his drooping eyes.
"Get up, Niall." I demanded. His eyes met mine and a look of intimidation flashed through those blue orbs of his. Exactly how it was supposed to be.
"AJ," he began. "I- please understand!"
"Shut up, Niall." I spat. "Shut the fuck up." I begin to pace the room madly again, my arms crossed over my chest, my jaw set and my fists clenched.
Niall gets up slowly, unsure of what to do. "I'm really sorry."
"Get out." I say, standing still now. His jaw drops. He stood still as well. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to form words. He looked hurt. Confused. Lost.
Things I couldn't seem to get myself to feel anymore.
"Wh-what?" He croaks.
"Get out!"
He takes a step forwards. "Avaline, please-"
"I said not to fucking call me that! Get the hell out of my house!"
"Please. I don't want. . I-I I'm sorry I didn't.." He pleads.
I turn away from him. "God you're fucking pathetic. . . " I mumbled. I felt him put his hand on my shoulder, I shrug it off.
"J-just go away! Leave! Why is that so hard for you all to understand?!" I shout at him. "I don't want you or your stupid friends here! Leave!"
"AJ," He says quietly. "I don't want to lose you... you're the only real friend I've got." I narrow my eyes at him.
"What about Zayn and Louis, Liam and that other kid? What about them?"
He's quiet for a moment. "It's not the same thing.."
"How?"
"It just isn't."
I snort. "I know how people like you work. I don't care if you and your friends are 'pretty', I'm not fucking falling for your shit. I'm not. I want nothing to do with you.. G-get out." I stuttered at the end.
Niall looks up sadly and before dropping his head. "Okay." He sighs.
He picks up his coat and slid on his shoes and headed to the door. "AJ," He began again.
"What."
He sighed and without turning around. "I'm not pretty. . . On the inside or out." And with that
.he turns the knob and lets himself out.
I stood there for a bit, just staring at the door in horror before I felt my legs carry me to my room where I flung myself out onto my bed. I curled up into a ball and held myself, pressure beginning to build up behind my eyes.
Nicht Weinen, Nicht weine, nitch weinen, Nanishka!" I screamed at myself. "Warum! Warum Gott? Gib mir eine Pause, bitte!"
I felt a single tear slip down my cheek.
I hate it when I did this.
I had a friend. . and it could have been a good friendship.
But I can't get close to anyone.
He was too close.
Neither am I, Niall.
Neither am I

Notes

So I know that I've been posting chapters that have already been post but I've been doing some editing. I'm really sorry guys and I hope you're enjoying this..
With love,
Allanys