by Jason Vasha
"Fuck. Why." Niall heard himself mutter. He then realized that Daniel had stopped his moves since was he down. Instead he felt his brothers' eyes observing him.
Daniel squatted down beside him.
"Let me answer that for you." Daniel all but whispered, his voice thick with his cruel ice.
Niall felt Daniel grabbing his hair and jerking his head up. He turned it so that Niall had no choice but to face his brother. Niall tried to push him away but the angle his body was in hampered any effective movement of his arms. Daniel chuckled swatting Niall' attempts away.
"Pathetic." He said wearily.
Niall scowled but kept silent. He hadn't seen this look in brother's eyes since their father had decided to take Niall instead of Daniel along to London last year. And yeah, that had been a nice little dance too. Daniel was beyond furious.
"Anyways, as to your question. I'm actually interested in why you think I'm more than a little upset right now." Daniel said.
He kept scowling at his brother; no way was he going to answer him.
Daniel tightened his grip on Niall' hair and yanked his head closer.
"Waiting." Daniel simply stated.
As best as he could, Niall shrugged and his scowl gave way to feigned indifference.
"Do you think it could have anything to do with your new friend? You know, the little Dutch girl, not too bad looking, kinda hot even. You had to show her the ropes this week. Ring any bells?" Daniel yanked Niall' head again.
Niall kept up his show of defiance but he knew that he wasn't very convincing. Still, it was better than giving in.
"You know, the disrespectful bitch who doesn't know what's good for her. The fucking whore who not only has her lunch in the cafeteria but at your fucking table. The slut who doesn't go anywhere without you or one of your fucking friends." Daniel paused for a moment. Niall was working hard not to let Daniel get to him and failed. He snarled and Daniel grinned.
"The little tramp who you have given a sweet little nickname. The tease who has got you drooling all over her like a fucking sick moron." Another dramatic pause and Daniel grinned again as Niall angrily tried again to push him away. He only got his head yanked, again.
It was unpleasant that his brother knew of his feelings but not very surprising. Had he honestly thought Daniel wouldn't pick up on that? No, even if he hadn't realized the mammoth mistake it had been to invite Olta to sit at his table, Daniel would still have known.
"The bitch you are going to cut loose on Monday and let sink into the depths of oblivion where she belongs. Am I making myself clear?" Daniel pulled Niall face so close that their noses were touching.
Niall had known that this been coming as soon Daniel had started talking. It was the logicaloutcome of his rant.
"No." Niall was surprised at how firm he managed to sound.
Daniel cocked an eyebrow in surprise.
"No? No, I haven't made myself clear or no, you're not going to cut her loose?" He asked.
"No, I'm not cutting her loose. You've made yourself perfectly clear, though. Both your meaning and your capability to use a thesaurus are very clear to me." Niall said calmly. He really sounded far more confident than he felt. Apparently he still had some spine left. He briefly wondered where his common sense had gone to, though. Insulting his brother was never a smart thing to do but right now it was downright stupid.
Niall braced himself for his brother's next move but to his surprise Daniel let go and got up.
"Okay, so don't cut her loose. Listen I need to take a shower and then I'll be heading over to Jason. Be seeing you, bro." And with that he walked down the hall to his room leaving Niall looking after him, completely stunned.
Any thoughts about Daniel actually being okay with Niall refusing him were immediately dismissed. Daniel was far too angry to leave it at that.
If anything Niall had just gone and dug a very deep hole for himself… and Olta. Niall had a sinking feeling he had just made the worst call in his life. But there was no going back now.
Getting up proved a rather painful affair and Niall wondered just how much damage Daniel had done. As he tasted his own blood on his tongue he guessed quiet a lot.
As he fished his key out of his pocket he took a deep breath. Pain shot through his body. Turning the key he softly murmured to himself.
"Time to face the music."
He didn't see Olta as he entered the room. At soft gasp alerted him to her position. She was standing in the doorway of his bathroom. Niall cast his eyes down and didn't say anything. What could he possibly say?
Instead he locked his door, switched on his lights and slowly made his way to his bed and sat down. He kept his back towards his bathroom and Olta. Fuck, it hurt to sit down.
He heard Olta rummaging in the bathroom and wondered what she was doing. Maybe she was getting some aspirin, that'd be really cool.
He sighed again and winced at the pain. He hoped Daniel hadn't actually broken anything or caused any internal hemorrhage. Going to the hospital wasn't really on his wish list. He doubted he could even drive right now.
Niall heard Olta approaching him softly and slowly. He kept his eyes on his lap and his hands. It reminded him of how Olta had looked down when he had upped the game earlier. How long ago was that? It felt like forever but glancing at his watch he saw it was just six thirty. Tickle thing, time.
Olta was standing in front of him now. She didn't speak but squatted down in front of him. Niall felt torn between wanting to look at her and not wanting to see any of the pity or dismissal or maybe even disgust on her face. Thank you Daniel, with any luck she would cut herself off. That would probably be a blessing in disguise. Niall really didn't want her to but he couldn't blame her if she did. But he didn't want a pity act either. He kept his gaze firmly on his hands.
Niall saw her left hand take his right and she turned the palm upwards. She had small hands, he mused, soft too. And they were trembling. Her other hand came up and it put a couple of aspirin in his. She had actually gotten him aspirin. She drew back her hands and she took his left hand and put his toothbrush cup filled with water in it. If the dancing been less intense he would probably taken offence to her motherly actions but as it was he couldn't help but be grateful for it. He'd be lying if he said that Olta touches didn't feel good or that he didn't want them.
She got up and walked back to bathroom.
Niall downed the pills, emptying the cup. God, even that hurt. He stared at the cup in his hand wondering absentmindedly why he heard the water running.
Olta again squatted down in front him. She took the cup from his hand and put it down.
"It needs to be cleaned." Niall heard her say.
He didn't miss the way her voice slightly faltered. But before it registered he felt a trembling hand on his chin, tilting his head upwards a little. His eyes landed on her face. She was pale and looking intently at his mouth. Suddenly he felt a cool wet cloth on the corner of his mouth. Ah, a split lip, that would explain the blood he tasted. He studied Olta's face as she cautiously cleaned his wounds. He felt her hand tremble through the cloth but she looked concentrated and concerned. Niall didn't see any of the things he had feared. He heard himself let out a sigh of relief and winced at the pain it caused. Definitely a bruised or cracked rib or two. Great.
The cloth now moved close to Niall' right eye. He flinched slightly at the contact. Funny, he couldn't remember that move. But then he did remember hitting the wall, face forward.
"If you're ever bored or something and your friends are busy or something, you're welcome to come over. My mother is cool like that. Just don't come by any later than eleven in the evening." Olta said softly.
Niall didn't react. Largely because he had been looking at trying to catch her eye and hadn't really heard what she had said. He wanted her to look her in eyes. He needed to see what they said. He had heard her voice falter again. She was pale, trembling and her voice was faltering. She was scared, Niall concluded. For a moment he
felt oddly proud that his deductive abilities still worked between the pain on the one hand and Olta's ministrations on the other. But the fact that Olta was scared wasn't good and feelings of pride vanished.
Then he registered exactly what she had said. And now he didn't react because he didn't know what to do. He really should do something, though.
The cloth disappeared and Olta moved away from him. He heard her walk to bathroom. Again water started running and he hoped Olta would come back with a fresh cloth. It had felt good.
Olta did come back but unfortunately she didn't have a fresh cloth. She only squatted in front him once more. Niall was once again staring at his hands.
"I'll leave you alone now. The bath is running and I've left your clothes are in the bathroom."
At this he looked up and did catch her eye. Yes, she was definitely scared but there also was her usual combination of insecurity and knowledge. Well, she sure had the knowledge. But still, no pity and no rejection.
She got up and turned towards her bag.
Suddenly he realized what she meant by leaving. Niall didn't want her to and his mind was working hard to find the right words but he drew a blank.
Footsteps were heard in the hall. Niall saw Olta froze up at the sound.
"Going now. And oh, I of course got to watch Fight Club, should anybody ask." Daniel called through the door, his voice light with amusement. And then his footsteps faded away. Niall kept his eyes on Olta but he did take notice of cover his brother going to use. Fight Club, good one, he thought sarcastically. Of course last time it had been Godfather II.
Olta was still frozen in her spot her gaze fixed on the door. Niall got up, slowly. He wanted to take her in her arms and tell she had nothing to worry about. That it had been just a fight. That Daniel was his problem, not hers. Even if that was a lie and even if Olta would probably know that.
As Niall stood, however, Olta snapped out her trance. She turned and looked at him. Now she just looked scared. But as Niall walked over to her, she took a couple of breaths and the fear subsided. Niall was shocked to see something very akin to guilt take its place. What the hell!? Why in the world would Olta feel guilty? No, he was reading her wrong.
Olta’s eyes darted all over his room and she was biting her lip nervously.
Niall stretched his hand out to do something, anything to put her at ease but Olta stepped away and grabbed her bag from the floor.
"Your bath… ready… overflow." She mumbled as she headed for the door.
Olta unlocked the door and left his bedroom without looking back at Niall.
Niall stared at his bedroom door in shock. He had done it again. He had managed to send Olta running, again. He kept staring at his door for some time before he realized he hadn't said one single word to Olta the entire time.
"You stupid fuck!" He shouted at himself, regretting it instantly as he cringed in pain.
He slowly walked to his bathroom and found he was just in time to keep the bath from overflowing.
Chapter Twelve
Olta wasn't entirely sure how but she had done it. She had finished all of her homework. As she gave her essay on Greece a final once over she almost cracked a grin. The therapeutic qualities of homework never seized to amaze Olta.
Putting the essay aside she took a deep breath and landed herself on her love seat. She picked up the remote of her stereo set. Letting the comfortable sounds of Saint Germain wash over her Olta went over the last days' events, yet again.
Her mother was harassing her continuously. All out of love, of course, but that didn't make it any less annoying. After she had found her daughter sitting on the bench on Friday evening her mother had been worried. She had bought that Olta's paleness and shivering were solely due to being out in the cold for four hours. That, however, didn't explain Olta's rather evasive and skittish behaviour. Knowing her mother would press the matter until satisfied Olta had been forced to come up with something that would be convincing enough. When telling a lie, always stay close to truth. Her father had taught her that.
"I don't know, I'm not quite here yet, you know. I miss Mortis and John and the guys and well just, haven't got male friends here yet. And I, you know, keep thinking about…" Olta had said, trailing off. She had seen her mother's worry and heard it her voice as she spoke. She had bit her lip. It hadn't been a lie, more an omission of sorts. But still.
"Olta, I understand, really I do. Hey, I'm not settled yet either and I don't think Maggie is either even if she seems to be her happy self. Sweetie it whasn't even been two weeks. And besides I think you can consider Niall a friend. Looks to me like the boy went a bit beyond the call of duty this week. And when next time he and his friends ask you to hang out with them, you really should just go." Olta had glared at her mother and all she had gotten in return was a sympathetic smile.
"If?" Olta had corrected.
"When." Her mother had responded and Olta had rolled her eyes. Remembering her open invitation to Niall she decided to give her mother a heads-up. No matter how doubtful Olta was he would actually drop by.
"Well, maybe. I did tell Niall he could drop by any time. I don't think he'll will but if he does, please lay off him. Just treat him as if he was Deanor possibly David ok?" Olta had said quickly, looking at her mother pleadingly. Her mother's smile hadn't wavered but it had turned more and more into a smirk.
"Of course, why wouldn't I?" Her mother said in mock innocence.
"Mamma!" Olta had wailed and the serious mood had dissipated and they had shared a comfortable silence.
But it had only lasted a minute.
“Sweetheart is he your boyfriend?” Her mother asked with a bright smile on her face.
“Ma, no! Just friends, besides I'm not the dating type.” Olta replied with a sour grin on her face.
"Now Olta, about.." her mother began cautiously.
"No." Olta had said harshly, cutting her mother off.
"Olta, I really think it would do you good." Her mother had implored.
"Mam, I don't want to. I'll deal with it myself, in my own time." Olta had sighed and her mother had shaken her head in defeat.
With that Olta had retreated to her room, hoping her mother would let it rest. Unfortunately, she didn't. At regular intervals the subject about Olta's need to go and talk to someone was brought up and Olta had simply stopped talking to her mother.
Maggie had tried to soften strained atmosphere and Olta's bad mood. Olta appreciated the gesture but not the way she gone about it.
"You've got a boyfriend, you've got a boyfriend." Maggie had teased bouncing up and down the sofa in the reading room on Saturday afternoon. Looking up from a book she had pretended to be reading Olta had shot her sister a glare.
"No I don't."
"Yes you do. Niall so is your boyfriend. He gives you rides to school."
"How old are you, six? How does Niall giving me a ride make him my boyfriend?"
"Well, Susan said that is what boyfriends do over here, so I just figured. Besides I see how look at him. You so totally like him." Maggie had said with a smug smile.
"Ra, I don't. He's just a friend." Olta had let out a frustrated sigh. Cannot kill my sister, cannot kill my sister. Especially not for telling the truth.
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
"Enough!" Their mother had yelled from the living, not looking up from her book. "Maggie, stop harassing your sister. Niall is just like Dean. Now go do your homework." Olta had glared at her mother.
