The Lucky Pick // One Direction

Chapter 52

Megan Watson's POV

During that day, I start to feel guilty.

I shouldn't have just run away from Harry - you can't just run away from your problems.

But if I ever think about knocking on his hotel room door and speaking to him, I would immediately decide against it.

So Niall and I leave London, with no word to or from Harry.

"You okay, Meg?" Niall asks me, while we sit beside each other on the plane back to England.

I shrug, "I guess."

He gives me a weak smile.

When we get back to London the next morning, I ask if we can go to my house - my real house.

"Does your, uh, mum know about you and Harry...?" Niall asks as we walk towards the front door of my house.

I stop outside it, him doing the same, and I look up at him, "No. She doesn't. You're the only person I've told."

He looks back into my eyes, opening his mouth to say something when the door opens, revealing Delilah with a grin on her face.

"HI! OH MY GOD!" She exclaims, before saying, "Wait. I thought you're still in Paris. With Harry? How come you're..." She trails off, looking at the two of us confusedly, before a smirk appears on her face.

"Is there something going on between you two?" She asks with a smirk.

I choke on my own spit, "Delilah. Stop. There's nothing 'going on' between us."

"Then where's Harry?" She continues smirking, obviously wanting to annoy me, leaning against the doorframe.

I let out a deep breath, "He's in Paris."

"With who?"

"I don't know," I say, my voice cracking, and tears welling up in my eyes.

"But... why aren't you w-" She gets cut off by me suddenly bursting out into tears, unable to contain myself any longer.

I see Delilah's mouth drop open slightly in shock at my sudden sobbing, obviously not expecting it and having no clue what's going on or why I'm crying.

Niall wraps his arms around me, letting me sob into his chest.

My mum then appears at the door, her face etched with pure confusion and worry, before letting us in, and letting Niall explain everything for me, while I sit beside him. I just cry into his chest, and continue do the same over the course of the next several days.

He never seems to mind.

One day, little over a week after coming back from France, he appears at my apartment at around eleven in the morning, as he had done for the past week, making sure I was okay, and spending every single day so far since Harry and I's breakup with me.

But this time, he appears with a guitar in hand.

I look at the big case in his hands in confusion, "Is.. is that a guitar?"

He looks down at it proudly, "Yep. I brought it. I can teach you to play."

"Really?" I ask, getting a bit excited about it.

"Of course. It'll give us something to do," He grins, "I think that'll be fun, yeah?"

"That sounds really fun!" I smile, "Can we start now?"