I squint my eyes as I open the door of the bedroom, turning my head to the opposite side of the window. I should watch the weather channel more often, because I rarely ever expect such strong rays of sunshine forcing themselves into my apartment in January, in the middle of winter. Then again I've only ever seen winter in Ireland. This season might be more people-friendly here.

A movement a few feet away from me catches my eye, and it happens to be the one that would end the search party I thought I'd have to throw. Running my hand through my hair for what seems to be the tenth time in ten minutes, I start strolling through the slightly crowded living room of my apartment, until I reach the cold tiles that indicate the entrance to the kitchen, and the oversized tank top-clad figure that seems to be ignoring my presence.

I push my hands into the pockets of my jeans that I could barely get my legs through a few minutes ago, and lean forward to reach her half exposed shoulder with my lips. "Morning," I mumble against her skin, expecting her to jerk away or make some sort of movement that suggests she doesn't want me so close to her. But instead, all I get is a faint sigh, and a slight turn of her head that only allows me to see about a quarter of her face.

"Morning," She mutters back, just as quietly, and after studying her for a few seconds I nod to myself, and take a few steps back, to let her have her space. I've been doing that exact thing for about twenty four hours now, I should know the drill.

"What're you doing?" I ask through a sigh, that gradually turns into a yawn as I scan the small amount of kitchen appliances in the narrow kitchen. I have to admit, the kitchen in the apartment she used to live in was a lot nicer.

"Um, just," Freya looks around, quite uninterested, "Doing the dishes because I ditched them yesterday, and... trying to figure out what to make for lunch."

"Smoking pot while you're at that?" I suggest gingerly, having taken a few steps toward the last counter on the left, where she'd conveniently tried hiding the ashtray which the smoke is coming from, behind a tea pot that unmistakably held green tea inside.

"Well that doesn't sound judgmental or anything," She points out, one of the single-digit times she's tried being funny or sarcastic in about 22 hours. I smile at her retort, picking up the slim brown object.

"Oh yeah, judging people is what I'm all about," I say, more to myself as I bring it to my lips, assuring her that I'm kidding being only one of the reasons for that. I lift my head slightly as I exhale the smoke, and turn to the right so I can lean against the wall, and get a nice view of her half naked body. For someone who's suddenly become keen on pretending I don't exist, she sure chose an interesting outfit to do that in.

A good minute passes before she decides to turn her head in my direction, though she looks back at the plate she's holding when she notices I'm watching her intently. I spot her glancing my way once, or twice, before she hesitantly turns her head to look at me properly, her brows raised and the look in her eyes almost too innocent for someone like her.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" Freya asks slowly, and it almost hurts that I know her usual response to me watching her would be saying 'you know it's creepy to stare at someone like that, right?' or 'is there something on my face or are you just playing a stalker today?'.

I shrug despite my thoughts, "You look nice. I like your hair like that," I point to her bun, that's about an inch from being at the top of her head. She surprises me by smiling, and looking back at the sink again. Really?

"Thanks," Is her only answer to that. I don't know how patient she thinks I am, but I have news for her. I'm not that patient.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I ask, knowing she knows what I'm implying by that - but she still looks at me with slightly widened eyes.

"Doing what?"

"Acting like we're strangers." I bring her joint to my mouth again, and she takes that as a chance to look away. "Didn't you feel good yesterday?"

As is known in the back of my head, she bows her head lower, as if to hide her face. What if this is what happens when it comes to those kind of activities? She's confident, doesn't take shit from anyone and isn't the least bit scared of putting me in my place, but she just might be shy when it comes to things like sex. And given her previous experiences, I wouldn't blame her.

"It's not that," She stops the water and takes a cloth from beside the sink to dry her hands, surprising me a little. I could have bet money on her purposefully dragging out what she was doing just so she wouldn't talk to me.

"Care to let me know what it is, then?" I suggest, having her walk over in front of me instead of answering with words.

"I just have some stuff on my mind, it's nothing," She nearly exhales her answer out, taking my wrist and turning it around so she'd pull on the blunt too. I keep my eyes solely on her lips for a few seconds, before looking up into her eyes - I don't know which of those two I prefer looking at.

"Does it have anything to do with yesterday?" I ask, tilting my head to the side before she looks up at me, blowing the smoke out upwards.

"No," Freya replies flatly, the answer seeming too simple. "I'm just having one of those days."

I nod, even though I don't even know what she'd meant by that, and take one drag after her too. I throw my head back, leaning it against the wall behind me as I blow out the smoke, and lift my hand to run it through my hair while I absentmindedly look around. There's no point it pushing her into telling me things; the more I force her into opening up to me, the more she's going to shut herself off. And we don't want that.

"Look at you." I look down, my eyebrows raised and eyes half lidded as I meet hers; her arms are crossed and lips pressed together, with the unmistakable look of amusement on her face.

"What?" I frown, tipping my head to the side and keeping it against the wall too.

"Skinny jeans, unbuttoned shirt, your hair is a mess and you're having a joint right after waking up." I continue looking at her face, that's gradually becoming smug, and frown while waiting for her point. "And most of all, you don't give a shit."

I raise my brows again, this time in slight surprise as she takes a step closer to me, smiling wider by the second. "I've corrupted you. And I'd feel bad for it, but bad boy is a good look on you."

I breathe out a laugh as she grins, a little glint in her eyes that makes her more recognizable. She might not be opening out, but she's starting to look more like herself; and I'll take that, for a start. "Remember when you said bad boys are overrated?"

She probably doesn't actually remember saying that, which would be a good explanation for her baffled expression. "Remember when you said you'd cut off your legs to see me naked?"

Her retort is rather impressive, given that I was expecting her to either deny it, or stutter. "Are you implying that we were lying about those?"

I wouldn't say I was lying, because God knows how bad I had it for her, but I'm dying to hear her theory on this. "I don't know," She shakes her head rather innocently, "I mean you still have both of your legs."

"And you like that I look like a bad boy," I add, shrugging as I take another drag. Freya shrugs too, lifting her hands to smooth out my unbuttoned shirt, and pull the collars down, though I doubt it makes a difference.

"As long as you only look like one, I'm fine," She says quietly, leaning forward to lightly press her lips against mine. I barely pucker my lips to kiss her back, but she pulls away after two seconds anyway, and returns to the sink to wash the couple of plates that are left. I keep my eyes glued to her frame as she walks, bending her left leg to bring her foot to her other knee.

I avert my eyes from her to frown down at the joint, noticing there's nothing left of it but the filter. After stubbing it out in the ashtray, I rub my hands together and make my way toward her, standing behind her close enough to place my chin on her shoulder but not so that our bodies are touching.

"Figured out what you're gonna make for lunch?" I mumble, kissing her shoulder and shoving my hands in the pockets of my jeans in the same time. I feel Freya shrug, I feel it because the movement nearly made me bite my own tongue.

"Not really... no."

"Need my help?"

I all but jump away from her as she drops the glass she was holding in her hands, creating a series of rattling noises when it collides with the rest of the utensils in the sink. She quickly stops the water and grips the edge of the surface, lowering her head; making me frown.

"Fre-"

"I don't need your help, okay? I don't need anything," She says quickly, trying to collect herself and get back to doing the dishes. My frown doesn't go away, in fact I slowly walk over to the counter right next to the sink, watching her. Until a few seconds ago, she looked completely fine; she didn't even avoid talking to me, as she did yesterday. Now, now I'm starting to relive the events from the day before.

"Okay," I say slowly, in a tone as light as possible, "Need me to run to the sto-"

"No, Niall, just..." She drops the dish again, this time intentionally, and brings her soapy hands to her face. This is starting to freak me out. "I don't... I don't need anything."

She turns to leave, wiping the foam off her face with her forearm, but I proceed to grip her wrist and spin her back around so she's facing me. She has this exasperated, annoyed look in her eyes that's just saying 'let me go or I'll punch you and cry'.

"Talk to me," I say calmly, almost as an order, as I take a step toward her. Freya sighs and throws her head back, trying to slip out of my hold without having me realize it, but I firmly grasp her upper arms to prevent that, and keep looking at her collectedly. Being demanding wouldn't get me anywhere, that's for sure.

"I'm just having a bad day-"

"You were having a bad day yesterday too," I cut her off immediately, "Tell me what's happening."

"Niall-"

"Talk to m-"

"Just-" This time, she uses her strength – that I've somehow forgotten about – to push me away; and due to my lack of expectation, I stumble back a few steps, quickly gaining balance again but not quickly enough to stop her from leaving. "Leave me the hell alone when I ask you to, okay?"

I try walking after her, jogging after her, but the slam of the bedroom door causes me to stop, place my hands on my hips and with a defeated sigh, return to the kitchen. She doesn't have work today, so I can either try to get her to talk or leave her be, as she's asked me to. Either way, I have a feeling scrambled eggs is all I'm gonna have for lunch.

*******

I tap my fingers against the steering wheel, one by one, creating a countdown kind of melody that's easily irritating to anyone. There's no vehicle miles in front of me, so I don't hesitate to look in the rear view mirror every so often; I've conveniently adjusted it so I can see her face, that's been blank and passive for an alarming amount of time.

Pressing my lips together to contain my words, I look back outside the windshield. You'd think I'd be happy about close to no traffic on the highway, but if there were at least two cars in front of me or behind me or anywhere in my sight, at least I'd have something to focus on. I could take my mind off the brunette sitting next to me and the fact that I can count how many words she's said to me in the past week on the fingers of my hands.

"So," I start after about half an hour of silence, having to clear my throat, "Kirsten turns 18 today?"

"Mhm," Is the only response my lame attempt at starting a conversation gets. I stretch my hands over the wheel before gripping it even tighter than before, and nodding curtly.

"Does she know where she wants to go to college?" What the hell. I don't even know where I go to college. I literally dot know the address of my faculty.

"Harry told me she wants to be a pilot," Freya tells me – something that actually takes me by surprise.

"Really?" I raise my brows, and earn a nod from her; I don't even know why I'm surprised. It's not like I got to know her or anything. "Like... an airline pilot?"

"Yeah, she has excellent grades. Similar to mine."

Probably for the first time today, I smile humorously at something she's said; when I turn my head to her, she's trying to bite back a smile as well, acting like she wasn't just bragging. "Are you saying you're almost as smart as she is?"

"No, she's almost as smart as I am."

I snort, and look in front of the car again, "Very modest, you are."

"You should see my grades first. You'd cry." I laugh for a short few seconds as she continues, with an evident smile on her face. She'd cry if she saw my grades too, but for different reasons.

"Sounds intriguing," I nod firmly, "You need to show me your grades sometimes."

When I turn my head to her again, I can't help but feel my heart sink a little; she's slumped back into the seat, looking straight ahead of her and trying to act like I didn't just say something wrong. And I honestly don't think I've said something I shouldn't have – but that's the thing, I have no idea if I have or not. Because she never speaks to me. She'll talk as long as it's banter and small talk, but at a certain point, she just stops. Just like now. We talked and everything seemed okay, and all of a sudden she just shut down. And I'm hopeless because I don't know what the problem is and I don't know if the problem is me or her.

"Alright," I speak up after a good minute of letting frustrating thoughts clutter my head, and let my hands control the vehicle without really getting permission from my brain. Forgetting – or just not caring – to turn the blinker on, I sharply steer the car to the right, almost ending up in a pit if I hadn't hit the brakes just as fast.

"Hey, we there yet?" I jump as I hear a voice from the back seat; I'd completely forgotten that Seth is with us, regardless of the music coming from his headphones that's so loud, I wouldn't be surprised if drivers from around us stopped us to complain about it. If there were any drivers around us, that is.

"No, put your headphones in," I snap as I turn to him, while shifting in my seat so I'm fully facing Freya. Seth frowns at my expression, but still returns his headphones in his ears, the sound of a Van Halen song becoming even louder for some reason.

"Why'd you stop, we still have another half hour to Rockfo-"

"You know damn well why I stopped," I flare in my girlfriend's direction; she just blinks and widens her eyes in plain confusion, leaning to the opposite side to give me a weird look. "Fucking talk to me."

At my words, she closes her eyes again and a heavy sigh leaves her mouth. I smack her wrist as she goes to drop her head in her hands, and she jumps in her seat, shocked yet again, but doesn't say anything. I keep watching her, waiting for her to crack, but nothing happens; she's just sitting there, curled up, like a child whose parents are scolding it for doing something bad.

"I'm not moving the car until you speak, I'm not fucking around," I shake my head at her, sounding serious in my opinion. I quickly reach across her seat to lock the door on her side, hearing a small whimper leave her mouth at the action. When leaning back in my seat, I place my index and middle finger on her chin, turning her head toward me as I sit properly.

"Niall," She sighs again, closing her eyes again in an attempt to avoid looking at me. "Come on, this isn't the appropriate t-"

"And when is the appropriate time?" I interrupt her, beginning to raise my voice. "It wasn't the appropriate time all day yesterday, or the day before, or the whole past fucking week. And now we're going to your brother's birthday and I don't want this hanging over us the entire night."

Freya looks down at her hands by the end of my sentence, her lips pressed in a firm line; for the first time, I have a feeling she's going to give in. And God fucking forbid I'm wrong about it. "Come on, Freya. I love you and I want to make you happy, but you're making it real fucking difficult."

I don't think she was expecting this; me to burst and start calling her out for her bullshit. I usually let her her get things done her way, because they're either not that important or she knows how to handle them, but this, now, we won't get anywhere if she keeps doing what she wants. She's gonna continue being mute, I'm gonna continue getting more and more frustrated each day, and the issue that I'm unaware of will eventually tear us apart. Or drive me bonkers. Either one of those two.

"Talk to me," I repeat, placing a hand over both of hers, interrupting her at picking at her black painted nails. She looks up at me with an unsure expression; she's giving in, I feel it. "Tell me. Tell me what happened. Did I do something? Did I say something? Was it me at all?"

"No, I..." She shakes her head, and lifts her hands to cover her face; this time I let her, because she clearly knows she's basically trapped in the car until she speaks. "It wasn't you. Well, not exactly."

"Babe, it's..." I reach for my phone to check the time, then drop it back on the dashboard, "It's 7:13 and we have another 33 minutes to Rockford. I wanna make it there before eight, so..."

Freya drops her hands on her lap, shaking her head at my words, seeming rather irate. I know that I'm rushing her and not treating this like it's a big deal, but if I had any actual idea what the problem really is, maybe I'd be more patient.

"You, I- it's-it's something I said," She finally blurts out, staring out the windshield awkwardly. "And you caused it."

I slowly nod to myself; that makes sense. Not much sense, but I'm not confused so far. "Alright. What'd you say?"

She sighs at my question, turning her head to look out the window on her side for a few seconds. I have a feeling she's thinking 'I knew you'd ask that', because she really looks like we've come to the part that's been bothering her the most. "I n-need you."

I keep watching her, unsure if that's her answer or she's just expressing her feelings now, until she starts nodding her head firmly, "That's what I said. I said I need you."

I shift in my seat, thinking back to a few days ago – although thinking about it isn't that necessary. "Yeah, I know," I nod too, trying to find her eyes with mine, but she's still avoiding looking at me. "You said it multiple times, if I remember well."

"It's not... that, I didn't mean it like that," She says immediately, before I can turn the intense conversation into an inappropriate one. "Well, I did the first time. Then I just kept repeating the words to myself because I realized-"

"Guys, can you tell me why we st-"

"Shut up," I snap my head to the right, giving Seth a murderous look as he closes his mouth and gives me an astonished look. "Seriously, shut up." I say again, through gritted teeth as he tries talking again, and this time he frowns at me, looking at me weirdly while adjusting the beanie on his head.

"Alright, daddy," He mumbles, returning his earbuds in his ears, pulling his lips between his teeth so he wouldn't laugh at my expression; I'm frowning at him, nearly fighting the urge to jump in the backseat and choke him.

"What the-" I cut myself off as he goes back to looking at his phone, obviously not hearing me over the sound of what I think is Aerosmith. He's gonna be deaf by the time he has children, I can feel it.

I close my eyes in an attempt to clear my thoughts, and look back at Freya – who's also obviously trying not to laugh. Why do they find the daddy bullshit funny? "Freya."

She knows that I'm asking her to continue by calling her name; so she sighs and looks out the windshield again, no sign of a smile on her face. "I realized I..."

"What?" I lean closer to her, "What?"

"I realized that I... I didn't need you just physically, in that moment. I... I need you. I need you in general."

I continue looking at her, waiting for a sentence or a confession that would shock me; but that's it. That's all there is, that's the issue. The fact that she needs me. "What-what's so wrong with that?" I ask quietly, beginning to feel calm and peaceful for the first time in days. "What's so bad with needing someone to be there for you? I mean-"

"No, you don't understand," I lean backwards as she turns to me, the look in her eyes livid as she finally cracks entirely. "I don't fucking need anyone. I don't want to need anyone. Last time I needed someone in my life, I ended up in an abusive relationship with a man ten years my senior, who showed every single sign and symptom of psychosis!"

By the end of her sentence, I can tell that she's not far from starting to cry. If I'd known it would turn out like this, I would have waited until we returned to Chicago. "And I couldn't do anything about it, I couldn't get out of it for years! And when I did get out of it, I yet again needed a fucking freshman teenager frat boy from overseas who lives with a silver spoon up his ass, and his twelve feet tall manwhore friend to help me!"

I have a feeling she might be angry, but I'm not quite sure. "I can't do anything by myself! I always depend on someone! I thought that being free from that sick bastard would mean I get to start over, start living my life the way I wanted to, but fucking no, here I am again, depending on someone again, my happiness depending on someone again, my whole fucking existence depending on someone again, and I'm-I'm fucking sick of it."

She brings her hands to her face again, most likely not to let me see her tears. I lean back in my seat, watching her intently; I can see Seth from the corner of my eye, his eyes darting from me to Freya; I guess his music isn't loud enough to block out the sound of her yelling.

"I want you to understand something," I start after a minute, shifting in my seat so my face is close to hers again. "I am not him. I'm worried about the amount of times I have to remind you of that, but I'm not him. I'm nothing like him. I would never do the things he did. Not physically or emotionally. You could never regret needing me as you regret needing him."

I cheer internally when she lets her hands fall on her lap, and throws her head back to look at the ceiling of the car. She knows I'm not talking nonsense – she won't admit that I'm being reasonable because I'm apparently a teenager who lives with a silver spoon up his ass, but I'm determined to show her that I don't have the mind of an eleven year old. "You needed him because you ran away from home, you needed a shelter and a way to afford food and clothes, and he happened to be there. Your relationship with him wasn't based on love, that came later. You and I, though?"

I shift in my seat again, and fight back a smile when she slowly turns her head to look at me. "We were attached to each other from the beginning, I felt like it was the Fourth of July every time I saw your face and you tried pretending you didn't feel the same, but no matter what happened, me trying to leave because you were being difficult or you trying to push me away- we always ended up being fucking animals for each other. Because we're in love with each other. That's why you need me. Because you love me. And that's perfectly okay, because God knows I'd be miserable if I woke up one day and you weren't with me."

"That was beautiful." I close my eyes in slight embarrassment, and breathe out a laugh as I hear Seth's dead-serious voice. "Seriously, Freya, if you don't want him I'll take him, just say the word."

She surprises me as she cracks a smile at his words; and next thing I know her hands are on my face, her lips on mine and I know I've won the argument. I kinda want to get in fights with her just so I'd win, 'cause this is an amazing feeling. "I love you," She whispers against my lips – there's another reason for me to fight with her more often. "But if you ever do anything that reminds me of Craig, I won't hesitate to cut your balls off and make earrings out of them."

Okay, so there's one reason not to get into fights with her. "Okay," I mutter, pecking her lips once, "I love you too."

"Man, just when I had my hopes up."

"Seth, those headphones have a purpose. Please use them."

I snort at Freya's tone, placing one last hard kiss on her lips before turning around to sit properly in my seat, and turn the engine on again. With our hands intertwined and no issues to make the atmosphere tense, I don't think there's anything that could ruin Harry's party for us.

*******

hiiiiiii remember me, i'm the girl that didn't let you know the main character's name until chapter 21 :D :D :D i'm still getting my crap together but i'll update on sunday again if this part gets 200 comments? pretty please? i love you (and please forgive me for vanishing off the face of earth) x