Complacent [Duplicity Niall]

“This is creepy,” I say, shoving my hands deeper into my pockets.

I was not happy about being dragged out past my bedtime (which was 1 am for those curious), by my sweet cherub faced bunk mate (cherub faced, compared to my face, which was MC fucking hammered up) asking if I wanted to go with him.

“No it’s not. It’s an outing. With our dearest friend Hazza,” Niall says, walking a few paces ahead, but he keeps looking back, and looking all around.

“It sounds stalkerish,” I complain, rubbing my jaw, which still hurt. Fingers brushing my split lip.

“Harry is stalking Aven. 2 negatives, make a positive, which means our stalking cancels out,” Niall says, opening the door for me at the nightclub Harry had walked into. Not the front door, one of those side doors where they take the trash out at.

“He really have his dick out at the plaza?” I ask with a grin. Niall had told me the entire story, from his point of view, in a possibly exaggerated manner. Probably to cheer me up and probably because he wished I had been there.

“Yeah, and he didn’t even finish,” Niall laughed.

We had been at Dez’s bar, when Harry had slipped out. I was sober, obviously, because like I said I’d been keeping up my streak. And Niall could drink a keg or two and still be functional. So, we followed him.

“Can’t believe he went to a nightclub and didn’t even invite me. I love night clubs,” Niall grumbled, as we made our way through the club, past bodies, spotting Harry’s back.

“We know, fratboy,” I roll my eyes, pushing some of my hair behind my ear. The bangs I let Mei cut me were lowkey driving me insane, but they were cute. My hair was still the bleach blonde it was last year when I dyed it in Niall’s bathroom. I had kept up the habit. It looked a bit more cleaned up now, though, of course. Niall and I did each others roots every few weeks. “He probably thought you’d blow his cover acting like a downright fool.”

“Rude,” He hisses at me quietly.

We were both not dressed for clubbing. Niall had a blue jean jacket on top of a grey hoodie, dark jeans, and navy blue running shoes. I was dressed similiary. A green flannel over a black hoodie. Ripped jeans. And my converse, that were bloody the day I was gone, but Niall had cleaned while I was away (I remember throwing them somewhere in the room the night we fought and I disappeared. Walking outside barefoot wasn’t the best choice, yes, but I really wasn’t planning on going anywhere).

Harry is ordering a “virgin vodka sprite” when Niall and I arrive, and Niall wastes no time, telling the bartender, “Two tequila shots, please.”

He’s getting on the stool next to Harry, and I roll my eyes for no apparent reason, sitting next to him.

“Niall- Madi- What!” Harry’s only words of wisdom. I give him a tired look, and Niall shrugs, looking at him unbothered.

“Yes dear?”

“What the hell are you two doing here?” Harry asks, shouting over the music.

“You think you’re so slick leaving the bar early, huh? I thought it was kinda weird you ddin’t have your journal with you like usual,” Niall shakes his head, looking at me.

“I’m just his chaperone,” I shrug.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, “You can’t be here!”

“Since when are you Mister Responsibility?” I furrow my brows. “We can go wherever we damn well please.”

“Yeah!” Niall parrots.