His grip is tight against the steering wheel, his jaw clenched. He’s mad; very mad. You’re already home, parked in the driveway, but he keeps the doors locked and you daren’t try to escape. You don’t dare to speak either, – not when he’s like this –, a thick silence envelopes the two of you, until he breaks it.
“How could you, Y/N?” He yells, losing it for just a second before composing himself. He sighs, shoulders slumped, before hanging his head just a little in disappointment.
You still don’t respond, because you honestly couldn’t think of a good enough reason – you realised that there wasn’t an excuse; you shouldn’t have acted the way you did, it was as simple as that.
Another moment of silence passes between the two of you, before he sighs once again.
“Get inside,” he says softly, “You know the drill - you’re grounded; no television, or games, or anything else you might find mildly interesting.”
You nod, just once, before clambering out of the car and into the house, heading to your room before he had to tell you – not wanting to make him any madder than he already was.
He was annoyed, to say the least. He had to leave the recording studio to pick you up, and he knew he was going to get it from his management later.
“I can’t believe you would be so stupid!” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, before gripping it and pulling on it – as if he could pull the thoughts of disappointment and annoyance out of his head; as if he could just make the problem go away.
You roll your eyes; it wasn’t that big of a deal! It was only two days; a two day suspension – that was better than being expelled, right?
“Don’t get attitude with me, Y/N, because you just might find yourself grounded for the rest of your life, instead of two weeks!” he growled, staring down at you.
You sighed. Two weeks? Really? Two weeks without any television, or internet, or shopping trips with your friends.
You were going to be so bored, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself.
But, you didn’t argue, because you knew he wasn’t bluffing when he said he would ground you for the rest of your life – your brother was a man of his word, even when you didn’t want him to be.
“Really, Y/N? Again?” Louis asks, exasperated, “Come on! Wasn’t I in here the other week?”
You nod, “Last Tuesday.” You tell him, recalling the recent trip to the principal’s office.
He hadn’t been too happy that time either.
“What did you do this time?” he sighs, shaking his head disapprovingly.
“She started a fight in class, refused to leave the room, efficiently distracting peers and teachers.” Your principal reported the event to your brother as she looked down her nose at you. She explained in excruciating detail, and you watched as your brother’s eyes grow darker, his face going red with anger, you wishing for nothing but the elderly woman to shut her mouth.
“Thank you, Miss Johnson.” Your brother smiled, though his voice was clipped, standing up at the end of the meeting with agreements made for two weeks of after-school detentions and a one week suspension.
He grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you out of the school, only to have a harsh talk in the car about your behaviour.
“Zayn, please, don’t tell Mum. You can’t tell her.” You practically beg, gripping his arm and forcing him to stop walking to look at you. You both stand outside of your house, knowing that your mother was waiting inside, and was bound to ask what you were doing out of school.
“Just lie; tell her I feel sick or something!” You insist, pouting as he shakes his head at you, refusing your requests.
“You know I can’t do that.” He sighs, smiling down at your shorter figure sympathetically.
“Sure you can!” you insist, “Just open your mouth and tell her!”
He rolls his eyes, growing impatient, “Even if I did, she’d catch me out anyway; she can always tell when I’m lying.”
You frown, “Please?”
He shakes his head, “Just go in there and tell her you’re suspended for the next two weeks, and see what she says.”
“I don’t want to – she’ll be mad.”
“If you don’t tell her; I will.” He tells you.
You shake your head, “Good luck.” You tell him, before entering the house, only to retreat to your bedroom; away from the screaming match you knew would take place in a matter of seconds.
He was shocked. It was a rare thing for you to get in trouble at home even, let alone school. He wasn’t sure what to say, what to tell you, and it was driving you insane.
“Say something, Niall.” You plead, not being able to ignore the silence, or the guilt that was gnawing away at you. You felt guilty; this had been the first time you were ever suspended, and it felt terrible.
He shakes his head, sitting across from you in the waiting room, outside of the principal’s office as you waited to be called in.
“I can’t believe this. What the hell did she say? To deserve being punched in the jaw?” Niall asks.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to – it was just in the spur of the moment, and she was being mean and saying things and I just couldn’t-”
He cuts you off, “Relax, Y/N. She’s fine, you’re fine – you know, aside from your suspension and being grounded for the rest of the month. It’s okay, really, just… don’t do it again, yeah?”
You nod, glad to have the feeling of guilt off of your chest.
Only to feel guilty once again as the principal called you in to the office.