The Fighter (Ziall Horlik)AU M-preg

Chapter 3

Niall's POV

Starting over is something I've always wanted to do. Like a clean slate in life to be able to choose which marks you make on it and maybe they'll be the right ones. Unfortunately, sometimes you're forced to start over without a choice and you just have to think of it as a clean slate.

That's how I ended up in this run down part of Bradford. Starting over for me, however came with the fact I have no money and didn't want to go back to Ireland. I moved out to England after school ended for me and I didn't want to go to uni. My parents insisted I go, but I'm a stubborn little boy and decided I could do something with my life if I went to England. Everything was fine for a while, until I lost my job a year later and couldn't find work anywhere else. So I started moving around to different places around England that I could find an actual job. That's how now at the age of twenty-two I've moved a total of fifteen times around England. But, I tell myself it's better than going back home and having your parents say I told you so over your idiotic decisions you made when you were eighteen.

I walked into the small drug store that I had gotten my job at and went to the counter where the manager was waiting for me. He was a short man that had a few tattoos on his arms from where I could see them peeking out of his white t-shirt, but what caught my eyes the most were those blue eyes of his. He gave me a smile and gestured for me to go over to him, making me realize I had stopped walking to just look at him. I hadn't met him before because I applied for this job online, but he had emailed me that he would be at here so I know kind of who he is.

"I'm Louis Tomlinson, you must be Niall." He told me in a high pitched yet deep and raspy voice. I stuck my hand out to shake his hand. I gave him a light smile before listening to him go over the rules and what he needed me to do. Really, my job was to just stock the shelves with some new stuff while Louis worked at the check out counter. He showed me to the stack of boxes and told me to just get to doing that and ask if I didn't know where something way.

My day went on with me slowly emptying the boxes and putting the items on the shelves. There were a few people that came in to actually buy stuff, but no one talked to me. I'm actually glad because I still have no clue where half the things are and also I don't want to make a mistake in staying something wrong. There's a few people here that look at me like I could be their breakfast or like that just really want to see how punching me is. I just decided I was going to keep to myself as much as I can just to stay safe.

I've always been on the opposite side of things other boys my age were doing. While they chased girls, I chased butterflies. No matter what they were doing I've always done the opposite. Even when I was little I used to play with the baby dolls that my girl cousins always had instead of playing football like my brother. I've just always been so different that's why I guess I'm not really good in the self defense area. Sure, if someone wanted to beat me up or rape me I would grab their balls, but I knowing me I would end up crying and apologizing. It's just not in my nature to fight. So I'll just keep to myself like I always do and maybe then I can just be okay here until I loose this job and have to move on.

I slid the last box of bandages to the shelf and took a step back to look over my work I I had been caught up in. But, that step back left me with my back pressed against someone else and me tripping over my own feet. That's another things about me, I could be standing one minute and on the floor the next. Two strong hands gripped my waist before I actually fell and helped me get balanced again. The person let me go, causing me to turn around so I could thank them for helping me. Unfortunately, all I got out was a small squeak and a bright red blush on my cheeks because I was facing a god.

"Sorry to kind of sneak up on you like that. I was just looking for some wrap or tape." The tan skinned man said to me. His brown eyes looked over my face like he was seeing if I understood his words through his thick Bradford accent. My eyes scanned over is body still in shock that someone could be made looking this perfect. He had loads of tattoos that showed in the tank top he was wearing. He had some loose shorts on and a pair of old beat up Vans. His arms were extremely muscular but the kind of lean muscle that makes him look fit. He looked like a man with his facial hair, but the playfulness in his voice kind of made him seem like he was my age. I consider myself a boy still so I guess he was a boy. I looked back up at his face and saw a small smirk on his lips.