× Mercury

Running. When it came to me, running was more of an inevitability than anything else. Not just running, though, more like running away - running away from the bad things, running away to escape the truth, running away from the unavoidable. It was just something I did and had been doing for the past three years of my life.

So maybe that was why I didn't blame Niall for running away after he kissed me. Because if he didn't, I would have.

I was still burning, a flickering flame through my fingers and toes. I was left speechless there against the wall, trying to gather my feelings and catch my breath. A million thoughts were running through my head.

Why did he do it? What would this do for the two of us on the field? Would Coach find out? Did I like it?

The kiss was wrong. We both knew that it was a mistake the second our lips touched, and yet we didn't pull away. It was wrong... but it was so right.

No, Lynn. Stop thinking like that!

It was heated and needy and it was something I didn't know I was craving until I had a taste of it. It wasn't anything different from Bradley, except for, well, everything. I felt satisfied when I was with Niall, it was a mutual feeling, something Bradley and I were lacking in our relationship. When I was with Bradley... it was all on him and what he wanted from me. His touch was cold to my skin and I felt nothing but distaste afterward. Niall's touch wasn't like that at all. It left me wanting more... it left me inflamed.

I reached up and touched my lips, still tingling and a little swollen, as the door of the arena opened and Jace walked in.

"Have you seen Niall?" he asked as I quickly adjusted my shirt the best I could.

"Uh, yeah," I said, my voice higher than I anticipated. "He went into the men's locker room, I think."

Jace looked at me funny, but made his way to the locker room nevertheless.

I quickly ran out of the building and back on the field for practice to begin again, anything to get my mind off what happened just seconds ago.

The five minuet break had turned into ten, and counting.

Coach had us do dribbling techniques before we started scrimmaging again, and I was perfectly fine with that. Seconds turned to minuets as I weaved between orange cones with a soccer ball between my feet, waiting for the two boys to emerge from the building.

Jace finally came out three minutes later and went straight to Coach. I watched their exchange intently. Coach looked angry from whatever Jace had told him - although, it was hard to tell because Coach Mathews always had a sour look on his face - before nodding and telling Jace to join the rest of the team on the field.

Niall never came back out.

Once I finished the obstacle I was in the middle of, I kicked the ball to the next player in line and went over to Jace for answers.

"Where is he?" I asked him, knowing damn well that he knew who I was talking about.

"Sick," Jace simply responded without looking at me. He was squinting against the sun, and his black hair was pushed away from his forehead. It had been almost a week since I came to London, and Jace and I had quickly become friends. In the short time I had known him; I knew I could trust him with about everything - he was the type of guy you couldn't help but trust -so I knew Niall could, too.

Which was why I asked, "You know what happened, don't you?" even though I already knowing the answer.

"Yeah."

"Pathetic." I shook my head in disbelief. "He can't even come back to practice and face me."

I was glad Jace didn't hound me for answers or even question anything that had happened. I was glad he played it off as cool as he did and didn't make it into a bigger deal than it was. Except... it was a big deal and I was relieved Niall didn't come back to practice. I was just as pathetic as he was.

The rest of practice went smoothly, though there were a lot of questions to where Niall was. Jace stuck with the story that he got sick and went home early. They bought it, saying how he was probably drunk off his ass last night and worked too hard today to keep the liquor down.

I kept my mouth shut thinking if only they knew how wrong they were...

× × ×

"Hey, Jam," I said as my best friend picked up.

"Hi!" she said cheerfully in my ear as I walked into the Lee House. "I got your message and thought I would call while I drove to campus. I hate how I have a weekend class at crack ass in the morning. I have a half hour to spare. So what's up?"

"Uh," I said lamely. I didn't even know where to begin. "Have you, um, heard anything from Bradley?"

There was silence on the other end and I could hear the wind whistle through the phone and I knew she was outside. "I've seen him, yes."

"Is he... okay?"

"He's not upset with your sudden disappearance, if that's what you are trying to ask. I'm not even sure he knows where you went... or if you're even gone." Her voice was stern and I knew she hated me for even bringing him up. "I've seen him more than once with a different girl on his arm. If I'm being truthful, and I am, I would guess that he doesn't care that you're gone."

Something inside me knew that that was true the second I made the decision to transfer to London. Bradley just simply didn't care and I regretted wasting four months on him.

Once inside the lobby of the building, I looked around, trying to figure out where to go. From Jace's instructions, his room would be right down the hallway. I took a left and started walking.

"I'm sorry, Lynn. Really," Jamie continued to say.

"No it's- I needed that. I needed to know that."

"Did something happen over there?" she asked, suddenly catching interest in this conversation. "What happened because I know something did, I can hear it in your voice."

I tried desperately to remember what room number Jace had told me as I walked down the hall. Luckily, I didn't have to remember because twenty feet in front of me I saw James step out of his room and I started to speed walk down the hall before he could get away.

"Jam, I have to go," I told her as I watched James fumble with his room key. "I'll call you back at our regular time, alright?"

"I guess, but don't keep me hanging longer than that!" she shouted and I hung up.

"Hey!" I shouted down the hall at James before he could lock the door behind him. "Have you, um... is Niall in there?" I asked once I was in front of him.

James grinned shrewdly and faced me, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why?"

"I just need to talk to him."

"He just went to take a piss," James told me. "But you can wait for him in the room if you like. Just whatever you do, don't do it on my bed." He flashed yet another cunning smile and unlocked the door again and let me inside. Then he left, leaving me alone.

It was clear to figure out which side of the room belonged to whom. One half had an Irish flag draped over the foot of the bed on the left side, and that was enough of an indicator to me.

I stood in the middle of the room looking around Niall's half, gazing at the papers on his desk and the notes on his calendar. Then something odd struck me from the décor. There weren't any pictures. None. No family photos, or with friends or pets. Not even of other people. He only had a poster of a soccer team from Ireland, but other than that, there wasn't anything taped or pinned to the wall that told me anything about who Niall Horan was. Did he even have a family? Does he have friends outside of this college?

Going against my better judgment and self-control, I started snooping. I opened desk drawers, went through the homework on his desk, I even looked under the flaps of his calendar and in the mini fridge. I would have gone on his laptop, but it was locked. I didn't even find gross things like, I don't know, a used condom or dirty underwear. It was clean with no trace of a life outside of this university. The only things he had were things that were obvious, like his favorite sports team on his snapbacks and posters which told me he was a sports fanatic, which wasn't a shocker.

I was kind of disappointed.

I did, however, find a guitar case under his bed. The guitar alone was kind of a surprise, Niall didn't take me as a musical guy especially after seeing him in a lab coat and goggles. But then again, he's also a jock due to him being a soccer player, so stereotyping Niall wouldn't make any sense.

I took the case out and opened it carefully to not risk breaking anything. I expected to find a guitar obviously, but what I found on top of the instrument were three notebooks that instantly caught my attention.

I was debating whether to open the notebooks or not when I heard the door opening. I quickly put the notebooks back in the case and clasped it shut, shoving it under the bed where it belonged and stood in the middle of the room again looking as innocent as I possibly could.

He was looking at his phone when he came in, so he didn't see me right away (which was a good thing because I probably looked like I was hiding a secret - and I guess I kind of was). Niall was wearing light jean shorts that cut off at his knees, showing off his scar I never noticed he had until now. The sleeves of his cream sweater were rolled up to his elbows. His hair was sticking out from under a vibrant blue snapback that matched his Adidas tennis shoes.

When he finally looked up from his phone, his face was priceless. He froze in his spot, the door shutting on its own behind him slowly with a long, drawn out squeak into the silence. His phone nearly slipped through his fingers as he stared at me, face completely in panic.

But that all happened in a matter of seconds before he gathered his composure and glared at me. "What are you doing in my room?"

"I need answers," I said, point-blank.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Niall said in manner that he totally knew what I was talking about.

"You're a coward," I taunted, squaring my shoulders and refusing to look away from him no matter how hard his eyes were staring into mine. "I'm not leaving until I get what I want. Why did you kiss me?"

"It wasn't a kiss," he finally said.

My head had been reeling with every scenario he might conjure up to dismiss his actions; flat out saying it wasn't a kiss was surprisingly not one of them.

"Then what the hell was it?"

He looked down at me, blue eyes bouncing back and forth between each of mine as he plotted his next sentence. "It wasn't a kiss."

He was so incredibly infuriating. He was playing it off like it hadn't even happened, when in fact it had, and his nonchalant attitude was going to push me over the edge.

"It was a device," he added, no hint of hostility in him, which surprised me more than what he actually said. "You just kept talking and wouldn't let me get a word in. It was a device to get you to shut up."

A device? A stratagem to get me to stop talking!? From the thought, a new flame flicked on beneath me like a Bunsen burner, causing the dancing flare to boil up underneath my skin, rising and rising until eventually I had to scream.

"You're so-" I stopped, anger getting the best of me and I was losing my ability to talk. I wasn't one to spill out profanities left and right, but I really couldn't help it. Niall brought out the worst in me. "Fucking unbelievable. You keep playing these games with me, and I don't know what to think! You're a selfish, arrogant, dickwad with an ego the size of fucking Russia! You spineless, weak little-"

"Shut up!" he roared, finally getting some emotion out of him. "Jesus Christ, this is exactly why I kissed you! You wouldn't shut the fuck up! I'm not-" Niall threw his phone on his bed and turned his back to me.

I watched, still fuming as he removed his hat and tugged on his hair.

"Fuck!" He then threw the snapback at the wall with such force, that I flinched slightly. I knew if he would have thrown something with some actual dense, it would have left a pretty nasty hole in the wall. "You're so goddamn vexatious, you know that?"

I stood and watched him as he unraveled right in front of me. Niall Horan, the boy I had met on the pitch two weeks ago, was splitting at the seams. And I couldn't do anything but stand there and watch him in restrained silence, thinking about all six sides to his dice and how many more he was willing to let me see.

"The thing about you is that I don't know anything," Niall continued, a lot calmer this time, his back still to me. "That's what scares me the most. I always have the answers, whether it be in chemistry or plays in football." Niall turned then, looking at me with wonder in his eyes. "But suddenly you come into my life and it's all these 'I don't knows' and I hate it. I hate how you can make me go from yelling at you to being worried, to fucking kissing you up against the wall. I just don't bloody get it!"

He was telling the truth. I didn't know if it was the sound of his voice, or the way he was actually looking into my eyes when he spoke instead of averting his gaze, or the simple fact that I could just feel that he was being honest.

"I can't- I can't just pretend that it didn't happen," I told him, the flame inside me slowly starting to simmer out.

"Why not?"

"You know why."

Maybe if it was just a kiss, then maybe I could probably forget it. Possibly. But it wasn't, it was so much more than that. I can still feel his hands on my stomach and lower back, sending entirely different kinds of fire through my body. The low moan from him wasn't going to leave my mind just like the feel of his hair between my fingers won't. I didn't think it ever would.

I wish it was just a kiss so I wouldn't be tortured by these thoughts.

"If, from now on, I don't look at you or avoid you, don't take it personally," Niall said, looking at the floor by my feet. "I just can't deal with this. I can't deal with you."

I wasn't sure how I was supposed to take that and not have it feel personal, but I did... I had to. I wish just as much as Niall did for him to understand what was going on, but I knew that it wasn't going to happen tonight, I was sure of that.

"I think you should go," Niall said, stepping away from the door so I could leave.

Nodding my head slowly, I did what he asked and left his bedroom, feeling as though I made everything more complicated by demanding answers.