Complacent [Duplicity Niall]

I should’ve known.

I should’ve fucking known.

Because when Niall Horan said “Let’s go out and do something”, it never meant something normal. It never meant let’s grab a coffee or let’s go shopping. It always meant some kind of bullshit.

And this—standing on the sidewalk in downtown Chicago, watching him grin like an idiot as he straddled a fucking motorcycle—was peak bullshit.

“Where the hell did you even get that?” I demanded, crossing my arms.

He looked up, flashing that cocky smirk, the one that always, always made me want to smack him.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it?!”

He patted the seat behind him. “Get on.”

I just stared at him.

Then at the bike.

Then back at him.

“No.”

“Madi.”

“Niall.”

He sighed dramatically, shifting his weight. “Come on, you trust me, don’t you?”

I did.

That was the problem.

I trusted him too much, even when I shouldn’t.

Even when he stole from me. Even when he lied. Even when he broke my fucking heart.

I clenched my jaw. “Do you even have a license?”

He laughed. “Do I need one?”

“Yes,” I hissed. “Yes, you absolutely do.”

He shrugged, unconcerned, and patted the seat again.

I sighed sharply, glancing around.

Chicago was beautiful today. Cold, but clear. And if I was going to be stuck with Niall, I’d rather be anywhere but standing here arguing with him.

I exhaled, stepping forward. “If we die, I’m haunting you.”

He grinned. “I’d expect nothing less.”

I rolled my eyes, and before I could second-guess myself, I swung my leg over the seat behind him, hands gripping the back of his jacket.

He twisted to look at me. “Hold on tight, yeah?”

I swallowed. Yeah, that was the part I was dreading.

Slowly, carefully, I let go of his jacket and slid my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek against his back.

He went still for half a second.

Then he revved the engine and took off.

And just like that, the city blurred around us.

The wind tore through my hair, freezing my cheeks, but I didn’t care.

The buildings, the people, the noise—it all faded, turning into nothing but speed and motion.

I held on tighter.

The place Niall picked for lunch was some hole-in-the-wall diner on the edge of downtown, the kind of place that had cracked vinyl booths and a jukebox playing old rock songs.

It smelled like grease and coffee, and I loved it immediately.

I slid into the booth across from him, pushing my hair out of my face as he grabbed two menus from behind the napkin dispenser.