#hitc drabbles

[nightingiall]

hey jess hope you've been keeping well! ❤️ just wondering if you'll ever do a niall pov of part vi of hitc when they were at the party bc i'd really like to know what went on in his head throughout the myriad of events that happened :)

story page // wattpad

The first person Niall sees as he walks through the door is a tipsy-looking Harry Styles. 

“Niall, mate!” he exclaims as he sees him, voice loud over the raucous music, hair a mess of slightly damp curls as he sends Niall a lopsided grin. “Take a shot with me!” 

And, well, how can he say no to free liquor? Especially when it’s the expensive kind that goes down easy and smooth, spreading a slinky sort of heat through his tummy when it settles in him. 

The Shack parties are probably his favorite parts of working at Hightstown, with great alcohol and interesting people all in the same place. Today, though, he doesn’t care for either of those things, eyes instead searching for a beautiful girl who he could not, for the life of him, stop thinking about. He could not stop thinking of curious, vulnerable brown eyes and a smile that made all the work to crack it worth the effort. He sees her everywhere, all the time—in his dreams and curled in odd corners of his flat with Spike and in everyone at this party—heart sinking when the ghost of her disappears into his imagination. 

If he makes his disappointment obvious at the absence of Rory Bhatt, then Harry doesn’t seem to notice, instead yammering on about Leslie or Gigi or—well, Niall doesn’t know, he’s not paying attention. He’s saved from being outed as a terrible listener by Alejandra, who makes her way over to them to ask if they want to play drunk Jenga. Harry declines but Niall allows Alejandra to drag him to the makeshift gameroom, if only for a distraction. At least if he’s immersed in a party game he won’t be thinking about a certain brown-eyed beauty all the time.

It works, but only for a few moments. 

Niall is invested in the game for a while, his competitive side rearing its head for the first few rounds. But once it’s clear that Leslie is going to be the clear champ, her alcohol tolerance putting all of theirs to shame, he simmers down a bit, instead joking around with Callie and stealthily pouring excess beer into Shane’s cup with Alejandra when he’s not paying attention. Sure, it’s a distraction, but with the cloud of competition disappearing into wisps in his mind, he finds his eyes often wandering towards the door, searching, heart surging whenever he catches a glimpse of long, dark hair. 

It’s never the person he’s looking for, though. 

“Niall,” someone murmurs into his ear. It’s Callie. Cheeks flushed, eyes bleary, and stray hairs sticking up slightly in the humidity that’s leaked into the house, it’s clear that she’s well on her way to being tipsy. Perhaps she’s already there. Her hand is on his shoulder and she’s leaning in close to him. So close that he instinctively takes a step away. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Heard you almost beat Leslie at beer pong the other night. Everyone’s talking about it.” 

He laughs but even to his ears it sounds a bit stiff, unnerved from how close she’s standing. “Yeah?” Beside him, Alejandra nudges him to take his turn, and he pokes at a block, releasing it easily from the tower. Take a whiskey shot, it reads. So he does. Deep brown, luscious, expensive whiskey. It’s clear that someone’s tapped into some rich person’s reserve to grab it. Distantly, he thinks that the color reminds him of Rory’s eyes. 

“Yeah.” Callie’s still talking. “We take beer pong very serious around here.” She sends him a sweet smile, deep pink lips framing bleached-white, perfectly straight teeth. Callie is tipsy, and still no one can deny that she’s beautiful. Blue eyes, blonde hair, and clearly interested in him. Her hand lingers on his shoulder, her smile a second too long. She’s beautiful and interested, yes, but Niall’s mind is stuck on someone else. 

He’s mid-laugh when he sees her. This time, it’s unmistakably her. Those eyes, hypnotizing, but for once, his gaze is pulled away from them because she’s smiling. At him. Big and bright and blinding and so beautiful that he nearly forgets there was a time that she made him work so hard to get one out of her. She’s smiling and she’s walking towards him and Niall feels any semblance of self-control slip away, slinking down his body and landing in his knees, which go impossibly weak whenever she’s around. 

“Rors!” The nickname is leaving his mouth before he can even think about it. He distantly registers that it’s loud, impossibly so over the ruckus of the party, feels other people’s gazes on him as he finds himself moving towards her, bringing her in for a hug, a moth to her flame. But he doesn’t care. Clearly he’s never known subtlety when it comes to Rory Bhatt. “You made it.” 

She smells like the color yellow. It’s something he first noticed about her. She had been standing near the pool and he was struck by the etherealness she exuded. Long, graceful limbs, the hem of her white dress catching in the breeze, flowing gently. She’d been wearing sunglasses but she took them off when he walked up to introduce himself. To this day he doesn’t know how he had the balls to do it. He thinks he smiled and held out his hand, but he can’t remember. He’d been too distracted by those big brown eyes. Guarded and questioning, catching the sunlight and sparkling. 

A gust of air flitted past them and it carried her scent up to him, and it is this that he remembers most. Not the feeling of her hand or whatever she said to him. But that, the quick glitter in her eyes and her sunshine yellow scent. Sure, one cannot smell sunshine, but something Niall’s chemistry professor from college—back when he dabbled in the sciences—said one day stuck out to him in that moment, that at the center of our galaxy, in a cloud of dust and gas, scientists found a chemical responsible for the flavor of rum and raspberries, that space probably smelled like a fancy brunch, sweet and tart. The next day, when Niall and his friends went out and bought rum and raspberries and got drunk in the middle of the day on the floor of someone’s apartment, they joked that the place smelled like sunshine. 

That was what Rory Bhatt smelled like. 

He registers the scent now, as he presses his nose to her hair when she hugs him back. Sunshine and lemons and Rory. Niall tries not to come across as a freak and hopes to every power on earth that she doesn’t notice him taking in the way she smells, but he can’t help it. He’s not yet tipsy but he thinks he can get drunk off of this alone, the way Rory smells, the warmth of her body seeping into his, the way those brown eyes catch the light when she smiles up at him. It’s intoxicating. He’s so fucked. 

Hopefully she doesn’t notice how completely out of his mind he is for her at the moment, but he doesn’t do much to help his case, mindlessly tangling their fingers together and dragging her towards the drunk jenga game. He thinks he banters with her and everyone else at the table but all he can really focus on is the fact that she squeezed his fingers when their hands were laced together. It’s stupid, of course, to hyperfixate on this one gesture. But the muscles in his hands replay the memory of her touch over and over again. The rest of him is just running on autopilot. 

Alejandra draws a King’s Cup block from the tower and everyone cheers because at least they weren’t that unlucky. Niall can’t help himself when he bends into Rory, his hand on her waist. “Lucky we didn’t get that one, eh?” he says, but it’s just an excuse to catch a whiff of her scent again. It’s all great until she turns towards him and he realizes that he’s made a mistake. He’s leaned in too close. Her lips are mere inches from his. All of his nerve endings feel magnetized and they’re jumping around within him, craving a connection with her skin. He’ll kiss her if he doesn’t find some self-control. He knows he will. So he desperately forces words out of him so he won’t do something that will ruin this precarious balance they’ve managed to strike. “Don’t think you’d survive a King’s Cup anyway.”

It works. Rory wrinkles her nose at him as she swats a hand against his chest, rolling her eyes. And it’s so cute that he’s surprised his brain is still functioning from it all. “I can handle my alcohol, thank you very much,” she retorts with a little huff. “And besides, you’re the one who’s already had way more to drink than I have.”

She’s not wrong. He can feel it now, the steady thrum of alcohol bubbling through him. It’s making him reckless. He can’t afford to be reckless. 

And still, he is. Callie topples over the jenga tower and Niall seizes this opportunity to tug Rory away. He’s been aching for a moment alone with her. It’s selfish, of course. Any time she gives him a minute of her time he wants more. Just earlier today they had all been goofing around in the pool and she’d swam up to him when he was taking in the sunset, and she jumped on his back to scare him. It’s hours later and he’s still wondering how on earth her scent still broke through the film of chlorine that had settled on both their skins. 

They end up on the patio, and when Niall closes the sliding door behind them, shutting out the loudness emanating from within, he’s finally able to take her in. As they settle together on a lounger, he has every intention of telling her how he really feels. 

I cannot stop thinking about you, do you know that?, he wants to say. It’s right there on the tip of his tongue and it nearly comes tumbling out before he catches the look on her face. It’s that concentrated expression she gets when she’s focusing hard on something, like when she’s perched on the lifeguard chair drawing or when she’s pouring out food for Spike in his bowl. She does that a lot, gets lost in her thoughts, daydreams. So he asks.

“What’re you thinking so hard about? You’re quieter than usual.” His voice is a whisper despite no one else being around. It’s just the two of them and the sounds of the night, crickets singing and leaves blowing together in the breeze. 

He can see the exact moment she’s back with him, her eyes coming into focus. The slightest of pinks bloom high on her cheeks and Niall would bet anything that the skin there is surging with warmth. He’s not thinking when he reaches out, passing off the graze of his knuckles against her cheekbones for brushing away the hair that’s blown into her face. He’s right. Searing heat meets his skin. It sends jolts of electricity right through him. Rory lets out a quiet laugh, a lingering smile on her face as she glances down at their hands, which have somehow intertwined without his knowledge. 

I’d move mountains for that laugh, he almost tells her. I’m so completely in love with your smile that I see it in my dreams. 

For the life of him he can’t get his fingers to stop brushing her hair back. It’s a tantalizing softness against his skin. Reckless. He’s so busy watching the movement of her features that he nearly forgets that she hasn’t answered his question. She’s gone and gotten lost in her head again. This time, he’s the one who laughs. “Rory. Where are you, love? It’s like you’ve always got your head in the clouds.”

She’s full-on blushing now, her shoulders quirking up to her ears as though she wishes to hide it. Niall suddenly can’t remember what they’re even talking about. He’s reeling, the mere sight of a blush sending his mind into overdrive. Something else nearly spills from his lips. What can I do to make your cheeks go red like that again? 

“Sorry,” Rory says, smiling wryly. “I guess I just daydream a lot.” Her eyes meet his again and suddenly, finally, he realizes that perhaps she wants to tell him something. There’s a sort of nervousness swirling in the dark brown that has anticipation building in his chest. He inadvertently leans forward, silently telling her he’s listening. 

“It’s okay. It’s cute.” He all but blurts the words out and it’s all he can do not to smack his hand against his forehead. It’s a good thing he doesn’t, because it means that he’d have had to let go of her hand. And he’d have missed the color rising to the tops of her cheeks again. His heart surges in his chest. “Besides, I probably talk too much anyway.”

Rory is looking at him like she’s never looked at him before. It’s intense and all-consuming at the same time. She holds the entire world of secrets in those deep brown eyes and he’ll do anything to get her to open up to him. Tell me, his fingers say as they squeeze hers, because suddenly, this feels important. Suddenly, he’s thinking that maybe they’re on the same page after all. 

She takes a breath. He’s hyperfocused on her. For a moment, the world falls away from them. The crickets stop singing. The wind is still. For a moment, it’s him, and her, and his beating heart, and her unspoken words. A moment. Rory opens her mouth. A moment. She’s finally speaking. 

“I guess I was just trying to figure out how to tell you that I—”

A moment, broken.

The sliding door crashes open behind them, the crickets start chirping again, the light summer breeze is loud in Niall’s ears. His heart is a heavy thump, thump thump in his chest, so out of order that it feels like it’s jumping around inside of him, stopping only when it feels as though it’s lodged up in his throat. 

A breath wooshes out of him as he turns to face the interference. His brain registers two things, both at the same time. One, it’s Shane and Zafar that are tumbling out of the door, laughing loudly about a fight happening inside. Two, his hands are cold, the skin trembling from the absence of Rory when she snatches hers away, startled by this interruption. 

What was she going to tell him? Irritation crawls through him at their moment being shattered, but he forces himself to laugh along to the dramatic reenactment currently being performed by Shane and Zafar. 

It all goes to shit from there. He’s sucked into the chaos of the boys. More people infiltrate the patio, the summer air now carrying the sounds of overlapping conversations when not only minutes ago it was a silent bubble for him and Rory. 

She’s no longer sitting next to him when he glances over, instead pulled into her own conversation with her friends, and Niall has to work so hard not to let his frustration show. It’s not anyone’s fault, he tells himself, that the only reason he’s at this party was the chance that Rory would show up. It’s his own fault. Earlier, at the pool, he should’ve just invited her over to his place so they could lounge around with Spike and drink red wine, like they always did on their nights off. 

Instead he’s here, silently simmering under the surface. 

It’s happening before he even realizes what is happening. 

Someone screeches, and it’s so loud that most people shift towards the sound, curious of the source. Niall turns around to realize it’s Callie. She’s holding up an empty wine bottle, face lit up like she’s had an idea. It’s only when Niall looks closely that he realizes she’s so drunk that she’s dangerously close to falling off her chair. “Let’s play spin the bottle!” she declares—or slurs, really. 

Someone beside Niall grumbles. “What are we in middle school? We’re too old to be playing spin the bottle.” He laughs at that under his breath, because leave it to Gigi to be this blunt about her displeasure on something. Beside her, Niall spots Rory, her face closed-off and stoic, a stark contrast to the softness of her features earlier as she smiled at him. He frowns. All he wants is to be alone with her again. 

Shane ends up initiating spin the bottle. He’s loud and cocky about it, not hiding his intention for the bottle to point at Alejandra, whom he’s openly had a crush on forever. This ignites everyone. Gigi and Zafar pipe in with some smack talk, a crowd has drawn up to watch the scene, and laughter swirls through the air as the moment draws on. 

It backfires on Shane, of course. The bottle does not land at Alejandra, but at Harry, much to everyone’s amusement. Shane tries to back away, face bright red from embarrassment, but he’s teased relentlessly by the rest of them, and it’s only when Alejandra says something like, “Guys always want to watch the girls make out with each other in this game but never want to hold up their end of the bargain unless it’s convenient to them,” that they all egg him on harder until he has no choice but to cave and give Harry a peck on the cheek. 

Niall laughs so hard at it all that tears spring to his eyes. He’s wiping them away when Rory catches his gaze. She’s grinning now, eyes glittering in amusement, and Niall just wants to capture the brightness of her face and save it in his pocket forever. A breeze floats by and sends her hair flying into soft wisps that frame her face and god he aches to reach out and tuck the strands behind her ear. Maybe he’ll just grab her after this and ask if she wants to get away from here, if she wants to head back to his. They can goof around with Spike and laugh about this on his couch. He can sit a safe distance away so he’s not tempted to kiss the smile right off her face. 

He doesn’t get too far with that thought because Callie is piping up again, declaring that it’s her turn, clearly not understanding that it was all a joke and Shane was just taking the piss. His mind is still on big brown eyes when Callie spins the bottle, and he’s still trying to blink away the image of being alone with Rory when he realizes that the bottle has landed on him. 

His heart is in his throat again. He’s sure that his apprehension is showing on his face but Callie doesn’t seem to care. She’s grinning wildly, clearly intending to do as the bottle decreed and kiss him, and he quickly tries to think of something to stop her, a nervous laugh leaving his lips as he says, “Uhh, Callie. I wasn’t actually playing.”

But she’s already standing in front of him. “You know the rules of the game, Niall,” she purrs, voice low, and Niall’s desperately looking around for help now. He tries to meet Rory’s eyes but she’s not looking at him. Callie’s leaning into him now and he doesn’t know why, for the life of him, he can’t get the word no out of his stupid mouth. “We’ve never made out before. It’ll be fun.”

It’s Gigi who speaks up for him, her voice edged with irritation. “Jesus, Callie, he said he’s not playing. What ever happened to consent around here?”

But it’s too late. Callie’s hands are on his shoulders and he tries to lean away from her, a hint for her to back off, but either she doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, because she continues to edge closer until the damn chair is stopping Niall from moving back any further and she’s too close to his face. Fuck, fuck, fuck, is all that’s going on in his mind because he’s too caught off guard to joke the situation off and he’s starting to think he’s going to have to physically move her off him to stop her. 

There’s a moment where Niall feels like time stops and he’s able to quickly glance around at the faces surrounding him. There’s Callie of course, in front of him with her lips pulled up into a smirk, eyes half closed. There’s Harry a ways behind her, face contorted as he cringes. Beside Niall is Zafar, who appears to be amused and uncomfortable at the same time, as does Shane. On the other side is Gigi, who looks like she’s two seconds away from getting up and yanking Callie away herself, Alejandra, who is frowning, and Rory. 

It’s when his eyes land on her that it’s like time speeds up again. He’s only able to catch those eyes, dark coffee brown, widened as she watches them, and then Callie is leaning close enough to obscure his view. 

Two things happen then. Callie’s too close. She’s one second away from kissing him when Niall makes a split second decision to jolt away, turning his face and shifting slightly so that her lips never land anywhere on him. At the same time, Leslie, bless her heart, loudly bursts through the glass sliding doors, yelling about the beer pong tournament, and Niall, blissfully, is saved. 

Callie is not happy. She makes an annoyed sound when she peels herself off him and Niall has to restrain himself from using the opportunity to put as much distance between them as possible by making a run for it. “We’re playing spin the bottle,” she grits out at Leslie, who, for her part, simply snorts. 

“What? Why? Haven’t you all made out with each other already?” That breaks the tension. Everyone laughs and starts to head back inside for beer pong. Niall rises too, but his eyes are on Rory. As opposed to moments ago when she was watching him, now, she won’t meet his gaze. He feels something dense and heavy flood into him at the sight of Alejandra rubbing Rory’s shoulders; it settles at the pit of his stomach and weighs him down. Alejandra whispers something to her and Gigi as they get up too, but when they all pass each other, Rory pointedly ignores him. 

Niall walks inside and tries to calm down but he really just wants to scream and flip over all the stupid beer pong tables. What just happened? Things had been looking promising. He and Rory had a moment alone, she was going to tell him something that seemed important, and then everything just spiraled out of control. Niall is kicking himself for not being able to outwardly tell Callie to back off, for not being able to reach for Rory and tell her that all he really wants is to get out of there and spend time with her. 

But she’s engrossed in a conversation with her friends now and he’s pulled into beer pong. Leslie, the reigning beer pong champ for who knows how many summers, has already set everything up and picked out pairings, and Niall’s at a table with a bloke named Jayden. They’re familiar with one another so they make small talk as they begin but Niall can still feel the overwhelming irritation that’s lodged into his muscles. It’s making him dizzy with an annoyance that threatens to bubble into anger. He’s just landing the ball into one of Jayden’s cups when he spots Rory heading towards him. 

His heart is in his throat again, and this time for a different reason. Rory’s got that look on her face once more, the intense, concentrated one. But when she notices him watching her it melts away, replaced with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She steps close to him, that sunshine scent of hers seemingly stronger now. With this and his residual embarrassment of earlier, Niall thinks he might go crazy. “Good luck,” she tells him, voice so low that it’s clear she only means for him to hear. 

But she’s barely looking at him. 

And she’s starting to walk away. 

Shit. He scrambles for something to say to keep her here with him but comes up short, and in a moment of desperation, he reaches out to grab her wrist before she gets too far. Distantly, he registers a ping pong ball knocking lightly against his stomach from Jayden missing his shot. He doesn’t care. “Rory.” He hopes his voice doesn’t give away how frantic he is. He feels like he needs to explain even though he didn’t do anything. “The thing that just happened—”

And they’re being interrupted. Again. Niall is going to rip his hair out. He’s about to tell whoever it is to fuck off when he realizes that it’s someone he knows. Johnny Torres. 

Niall lets go of Rory, fingers finding the ping pong ball instead. As he’s taking the shot, he hears Johnny say to Rory, “Haven’t seen you in a while, babe,” and his entire body goes so numb that he has no idea how he lands the ball in a cup. Jayden fishes it out and drinks, seemingly unbothered with whatever’s happening on Niall’s end, engrossed in a conversation with one of his own friends. 

Every single one of Niall’s nerve endings are on edge. He doesn’t know what to do or say. All he can focus on is Johnny’s hand around Rory’s wrist and think about how he heard the two of them have—or had?—a fling or something of the sort. He’s suddenly insecure. Maybe he misunderstood the look in Rory’s eyes earlier. Maybe she doesn’t feel the same way as he does and was about to tell him so. Maybe he’s been too obvious this whole time and she’s uncomfortable with it. 

Niall thinks he might hurl. 

Johnny asks Rory if she wants to watch him play at another table and Rory starts to tell him that she’s in the middle of a conversation and Niall starts to panic. What is he even going to say to her? 

“The thing that just happened…” That’s where he left off. How can he explain himself now? He might say too much. He might push her away. He can’t—he can’t think. 

So he takes a deep breath and lands another shot. “It’s alright, Rors,” he hears himself say, interrupting her mid sentence as he turns and sends her a smile. He needs to let her go for the time being. There’s too much going on and it’s making him crazy and he needs time to just think. “I’ll catch up with you later, yeah?”

She’s whisked away by Johnny to an adjacent table and Niall has to tear his eyes away to keep from staring. Jayden lands a ball into one of Niall’s cups and he quickly takes the drink, desperate for some sort of distraction from the events of the past twenty minutes. The beer is cheap and watered down and it goes down easy, but it has no immediate effect on him. Which doesn’t help because his eyes flit over to where Rory and Johnny is and he’s met with the sight of Johnny brushing away that strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

Before he even realizes it, he’s tossing the ball so hard that it knocks over a cup on Jayden’s side, beer spilling everywhere. “I’m so sorry!” he gasps when Jayden yelps. “I definitely did not mean to do that.” Niall passes Jayden some paper towels for the table. Thankfully, no beer spilled onto his clothes. 

“It’s all good,” Jayden says, wiping the table quickly and tossing out the now wet paper towels. He jerks his head towards Rory and Johnny, a knowing look in his glasses covered eyes. “Girl troubles?” 

Niall glances over again only to see Johnny’s hand on the small of Rory’s back. He’s holding her so close that their faces are inches apart, and Niall has to avert his eyes to avoid seeing something he doesn’t want to see. “No, we’re just friends,” he says to Jayden, but heat is spreading through his body so fast that he’s sure he’s red all over. He’s startled by the furious wave of emotions that crashes through him. Never has he felt this way before, a spiderweb of feelings over someone who is not even his. And he doesn’t like it. 

Jayden sends him a perceptive smirk, clearly noticing the flush on Niall’s face, and Niall grabs another cup to drink from even though Jayden hasn’t even tossed the ball yet. “Doesn’t look that way,” he shrugs, clearly amused. “You keep looking over at her with this sad look on your face.” 

Niall is shocked by this assessment, not having considered that sadness may be a facet of his tangled emotions. He’s upset, sure. But he has to remind himself that he and Rory are just friends and he respects that. Wanted that, even. He’d love for their relationship to be something more, but the summer is almost ending, and he would never want to be someone who hurts her because of any uncertainty that will come when it does. 

Jayden takes a shot and misses. “Don’t know if this helps,” he says nonchalantly, “but she keeps looking at you too.” 

Niall doesn’t know why but this is what makes him smile, even if it may mean nothing, even if it could be wishful thinking on his part that he is on Rory’s mind just like she is on his. 

Niall ends up winning that round of beer pong. He and Jayden part with a handshake and a few laughs, with Jayden giving Niall extra details about the fight that happened earlier. Finally, Niall is at ease. He doesn’t know what had gotten into him earlier but he doesn’t like that version of himself and resolves to keep his head down to avoid running into anymore mishaps. 

Apparently that isn’t possible. Because for the next round, he’s paired with none other than Johnny Torres. Niall sighs to himself because Johnny’s actually a really cool guy. Even if Johnny and Rory were a thing, it shouldn’t get Niall all riled up. After all, Rory has warmed up to him enough to call him a friend, a far cry from the beginning of the summer when she was guarded and distant towards him, and that was all he ever wanted anyway. To be her friend and make her smile. 

He and Johnny shake hands, wish each other good luck, and get started. Niall’s about to take his shot when something catches his eye. It’s Rory, of course. She’s standing on the other side of the room and she’s looking right at him. Their eyes connect and she smiles at him. It’s soft and beautiful and his skin is overheating again but it’s for a different reason now. She sends him a thumbs-up and a silent look that tells him good luck, and something else too, but he can’t quite figure out what. 

Niall smiles back at her, the world falling away for a moment before he remembers he’s supposed to be playing a game. When he tosses the ball, it lands directly into a cup that’s notoriously difficult to land. Cheers erupt around him. It’s clear that the rest of the partygoers are now invested in this tournament and have chosen favorites. Niall doesn’t care, though. Because when his eyes search for Rory again, he finds that she’s still watching him. He’s so thrilled by this that he sends her a playful wink. Her smile grows and he feels his heart give an excited flutter. 

“Ohhh,” Johnny is drawing out, drinking from the cup Niall landed the ball in. “I get it now.”

Niall quirks a brow at him, the beginnings of a laugh in his throat. “Get what?” 

Johnny smirks. “You and Rory. You’re into each other. That’s why she was being all weird when I interrupted you two.” 

Niall is blushing again and he wishes he’d stop doing that. Weird things happen to him whenever Rory is the topic of conversation and everyone else always picks up on it. “We’re just friends.” 

This time, Johnny laughs. He takes a shot and lands it in an outer cup. “Yeah. Sure you are.” 

Niall gulps down his beer. “What does that mean?” 

Johnny shrugs, the look in his eyes mirroring the one Niall saw in Jayden’s, knowing and slightly amused. “The way you guys just looked at each other? Looked like a bit more than friendship to me.” Niall somehow lands another shot and Johnny fishes the ball out to drink from the cup. “But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

For some reason, this is what breaks the wall of tension between them and they both start laughing. “Okay, fine,” Niall says. Johnny tosses the ball and misses. “I like her.” 

“Then you should tell her.” Johnny sounds so matter-of-fact that Niall nearly agrees with him. He stops himself, instead landing the ball into another one of Johnny’s cups. 

“I dunno.” Niall is the one shrugging this time. “I don’t want to ruin anything. It took basically the entire summer for us to even become friends.” 

Johnny laughs. There’s a bigger crowd drawing around them now. “For what it’s worth,” he starts, keeping it vague just in case they had eavesdroppers, “I seriously doubt that being honest about your feelings will ruin anything. I know her. And I think if you tell her, you won’t be disappointed by her reaction.” 

There are too many people around to continue this conversation now so they steer towards a different topic, but Niall can’t help but let Johnny’s words wash over him. He runs the risk of compromising this friendship he’s managed to cultivate with Rory, but what if she does feel the same way? Should he tell her?

He mulls this over for the rest of the night. Even when he wins against Johnny Torres. Even when he continues to play against Leslie. Even when he ends up winning the whole tournament and the house is erupting with cheers of his name, he’s only thinking of Rory. 

So when he turns around when it’s all over and spots her there, looking at him, smiling, he smiles too. I like you a lot, Rory Bhatt, he thinks he might say to her. It almost feels right. Because she’s watching him, eyes glittering, like he’s the only person in the room. It’s like they’re magnetically attracted to one another. People are clapping him on the back, congratulating him on dethroning the reigning beer pong champ, but his feet continue pulling him towards Rory. 

She looks beautiful. There’s a glow on her face, that strand of hair falling over her forehead, and she’s smiling at him so widely that it makes his knees weak. He’s close enough now to see a soft pink flush on her cheeks and he so badly wants to press his hands to it, to pull her close, to maybe kiss her, taste her lips, which are slightly red and shining with lip gloss. 

Maybe he’s had too much to drink. 

Anyway, he’s not able to get close enough to do anything because Callie’s stepping in front of him, throwing her arms around him in a hug and screaming about his win. He’s taken aback by her presence but tries to play it off, hugging her back. “Let’s celebrate later,” she says. She’s clearly still drunk because she tries to wink at him but both of her eyes go all weird. “You know where to find me.”

She’s off after that, wobbling away, and he doesn’t care enough to watch her go because Rory is thankfully still standing there. 

“Hey,” he says to her, closing the distance between them in three steps. She’s still clinging to that sunshine scent but she smells a bit like whiskey too. 

She had been looking at Callie but when she turns to him at the sound of his voice, she smiles. “Hi.” Her cheeks are even pinker up close and she’s grinning at him and he nearly blurts out how cute he thinks she is. “Congrats on being the first person to ever beat Leslie at beer pong.”

Niall laughs and Rory smiles wider. He loves that smile. He’ll do anything for it. He’ll even make a fool of himself for it. 

She sounds like she’s had too much to drink and he jokes about it, his heart lighting up when she giggles. It makes him feel like champagne bubbles are popping through his veins. That word is flashing in his mind again. Reckless. Because he’s selfish and he’s trying to figure out a way to steal more time with her. Because she’s here and she’s laughing and she’s looking at him like she wants to kiss him too. Is he imagining that?

“Wanna come back to mine and say hello to Spike?” he asks. He wants to make her laugh again. 

“Mmmm.” She’s still grinning. “I was just about to head back to my place. Hanna from the kitchens gave me a slice of chocolate cake that is calling my name.”

Niall’s heart stutters. He tries again. “Okay. I can walk you back.” 

Rory shrugs, and he finds himself stepping closer when someone bumps into her. “No, it’s fine,” she says, “I don’t wanna pull you away from all the fun. This is like…your moment.” Her smile falters for a moment but she fixes it back quickly. “And it looks like there are others who really want you to stay.”

Niall’s heart sinks. No, he thinks, please let me have more time with you. What can he say to make this better? He’s usually careless with his words but he tries to choose them carefully now, clearing his throat and trying to sound nonchalant. “Don’t really care about others, to be honest. I’d like to walk you home. If you’ll let me.”

Those must have been the right words, because all of her features are softening now. Coffee brown eyes and raspberry red lips. She smells like sunshine. “Yeah, okay,” she says, and it takes everything in him not to cheer out loud. 

They finally get outside after being stopped a few times and the night air is so refreshing on Niall’s skin. It clears his mind of the fog of events from tonight and he’s glad for it. They’re both drunk and stumbling into one another. At one point they are overcome with giggles and Rory is dragging him through their laughter because she really wants her chocolate cake. 

“Ugh. You’re so cute.” It slips out of his mouth before he can even think to stop it and he glances frantically over at Rory to make sure she’s not going to run away from his bluntness or something. He’s surprised to find that he’s inadvertently made her blush, a deep red color that spreads all the way to her ears. He can’t help the way he smiles at the sight. 

“Jesus, Niall,” she huffs, absentmindedly tucking her hair back. Niall has to resist the urge to reach out and run his fingers through it, the memory of its softness tingling against his skin. “You can’t just say things like that. And besides, after tonight, you’re the one everyone’s gonna be talking about.” He must look at her questioningly because she continues. “You’re like a hotshot now. Beer pong champ and a Shack boy? All the girls are gonna be falling at your feet. If they weren’t already, that is.”

She’s grinning at him and waggling her brows but Niall can’t find it in himself to be playful about this. Still, he forces out a laugh. “Not really, no.” 

Rory lets out a scoff, flipping her hair back. “Nonsense. Have you seen yourself?” This time Niall’s the one blushing. “I mean, Callie was basically drooling over you tonight. And she’s picky.”

He nearly groans. Why does the Callie thing keep following him around tonight? He knows Rory’s joking but he really doesn’t want to keep talking about her. 

“I dunno. I just kind of mind my own business. I’m not interested in the messiness of it all…the whole ‘Shack boy’ thing.” They’re close to Rory’s place now and this conversation feels like it’s taking a turn. And not in a good way. He tries to think of something to get them back on track, to get them laughing at nothing like they just were. But then Rory is talking again. 

“Why didn’t you do it?” She’s slurring again, and he thinks she might be changing the subject. 

“Do what?” 

She stalls for a moment, a tension seeping into the air, and it’s only then that he looks at her again. She appears to be thinking hard about something, the corner of her mouth pulled downwards. “Why didn’t you stay back? Like, Callie was clearly into you. She even invited you to—” She huffs. “Why didn’t you—”

“Jesus Rory.” He’s exasperated now because he really doesn’t like this conversation. How does she still not get it? He wants to spend time with her, not anyone else. Going to this party really was a terrible idea on his part. “I didn’t want to do anything with Callie.”

“I mean, I’m not judging you. It’s a party and that’s a thing. That happens. At parties. I think.” She’s drunk and she’s rambling and Niall wants to pull his hair out in frustration because how can he convince her that nothing is as she’s thinking at all. 

They’ve stopped walking because he’s annoyed now. All night he’s wanted to be with her. All night he’s been trying to spend time with her. How can she not see it when everyone else—complete strangers—have mentioned it to him. “Are you fuckin’ serious right now?” He doesn’t mean to sound so upset but he is. He's drunk and really fucking upset. “You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?”

Rory looks confused and he suddenly feels bad. “What? I don’t know—”

Jesus. She can’t be serious. He’s really going to have to spell this out for her. Rory and her big brown eyes and her sunshine smell. He’s so weak for her and she’s acting like she can’t see it. “Rory, there is no way you have no idea what I’m talking about. You can’t possibly be that oblivious.” She is, apparently, because she looks at him blankly and asks what he’s going on about. He thinks he groans her name out because what? Jayden mentioned it. Johnny mentioned it. Everyone at this goddamn resort has somehow figured out that he’s hopelessly in love with her and yet Rory is still the last to know. “Callie wasn’t the one I wanted to make out with!” he finally blurts out.

He looks at her to see if she’s pieced it together yet but she just stares at him. Her blush is back too. “Then…who—” 

“You!” The word echoes around them. The trees, the grass, the lampposts, all of them throw his voice back at the both of them. “You, Rory. This whole summer it’s been—” And, god, he can’t take it anymore. She’s inches away and watching him like she’s surprised and he’s suddenly so desperate to get her to believe that it’s true and he likes her and he wants to spend all his time with her and he can’t get her out of his stupid head. 

He’s desperate and he wants so much and she’s here and she smells like sunshine and he’s suddenly reaching for her and crashing his lips against hers because he doesn’t know what else to fucking do. Rory leans back like she’s falling and his arms find her waist to hold her against him and her body does this thing like it’s melting into him and holy shit, he’s kissing Rory Bhatt. 

And she’s kissing him back. Her head tilts, hands pulling him closer, throat releasing a sound that drains all the blood out of his head and he suddenly can’t even remember his own name. Her soft hair is tangled into his fingers, her lips tasting like fucking raspberry and rum and he nearly laughs because she smells like the sun and she tastes like it too.

She’s kissing him back and it’s frantic movements and heated touches and his skin is burning up like he’s Icarus and he’s gotten too close to the sun. She moans into his mouth again and he thinks he might faint. 

But then her hands trail from his neck to his shoulders to his chest, pressing slightly like she’s going to push him away, and suddenly his wits come back to him and he’s falling from the sky and crashing back to earth. 

Shit, he’s thinking. Shit shit shit. He’s drunk and he kissed her. She’s drunk and he kissed her. He wasn’t thinking. He got so caught up in trying to tell her how he feels that he took it too far. She’s going to think he took advantage of her because she’s had too much to drink and how could he be so fucking stupid!

“I’m sorry,” he rasps out, scrubbing his hands over his heated skin which burns from the memory of her touch and her lips and her warmth. “I shouldn’t have—I should’ve asked—”

“What?” Rory asks, but he can’t look at her. He’s too ashamed of himself. They were finally friends and he’s gone and ruined it because he’s drunk and impulsive and stupid. 

“I didn’t wanna ruin anything and now I’ve gone and—” Fuck fuck fuck, how can he fix this? His brain is in shambles. All he can think of is Rory and sunshine and raspberry lip gloss. He’s fucked everything up. He can’t fix this. “Goodnight, Rory.” It’s all he can say before he starts to back away, resisting the urge to just run. He’s stupid and she’s going to hate him forever. 

He walks and walks and doesn’t dare look back. He walks and the summer wind screams in his ears. You’re so stupid you’re so stupid. He walks and his thighs are burning but he doesn’t stop until he gets to his place. 

It’s only until he gets the door closed behind them that he hears how hard he’s breathing, feels the shame prickling against his cheeks. He can still feel Rory’s hands on him and his knees finally give out, his back sliding down the door as he presses overheated fingers to his eyes. 

She told him, too. He can still remember the look on her face when she did, sad and helpless and regretful. She told him about the bloke who broke her heart, who betrayed her, who took advantage of her. He had been so angry for her. And now look at him. What better is he? How could he do that knowing what she’d been through? 

She was drunk and he kissed her without thinking. 

Something is crawling along his feet and he moves his hands away from his eyes only to find that it’s Spike. He’s purring softly, tilting his head at him, and Niall reaches out to pull him close. Spike nuzzles into his shirt and purrs again, louder this time, and Niall wonders if it’s because he can smell Rory on him. 

“I really fucked up, Spikey,” he mumbles quietly into the soft fur. “She’s gonna hate me.” 

Spike licks his temple, letting out a soft mewl, and Niall sighs as he slumps back against the door. 

He doesn’t know how he’s going to fix this. 

[bloom-bloom-pow]

head in the clouds masterlist

head in the clouds, aka hitc, is a four part angst series based on keshi and joji songs! all plots are based off of true events so please do not plagiarize, translate, or post onto any other website. thank you and enjoy!

part one: lee heeseung

synopsis: after a nasty breakup, heeseung is the one who's beside you, trying to mend your messy heart. too bad he's not the one with the key to it.

start reading // release date: 07 05 21

part two: jay park

synopsis: you've been jay's everything since day 1, and he has proudly worn his "best friend" button until the day you tell him you've fallen for his brother. (tw: domestic violence!)

start reading // release date: 07 08 21

part three: jake sim

synopsis: 2:36AM would have been an absurd time for an ex to call. so, jake plays it safe by being tricky and sends voice messages instead...

start reading // release date: 07 11 21

part four: park sunghoon

synopsis: though you never talk anymore, neither of you officially ended your relationship. writing a letter to him makes you realize that nobody’s ever going to love you like sunghoon did.

start reading // release date: 07 14 21

this journey of writing head in the clouds has been incredible, and i'm so thankful for all the support! i'm so sad to say goodbye to hitc, but there will be more series coming soon :)

[imakemywings]

Writer meme

  I was tagged by @chocochipbiscuit, thank you!

ao3 name: 0Rocky_41-7, a derivative of my old DeviantArt name

fandoms: Dragon Age, Mass Effect, and Beastars are my main focus these days, but most of the fic I’ve posted is Hetalia since I spent 8 years in that pit lol

number of fics: 77

fic i spent the most time on: Heavy is the Crown. This was the only chapter fic I ever completed before posting and I spent about 9 months pushing through it and editing and stuff, and it was totally worth it. I’d never handle a chapter fic another way again.

fic i spent the least amount of time on: My 15-minute prompt Benezia/Aethyta drabble Tissaia’s Blush.

shortest fic: This old-ass piece for a Hetalia contest on DA; the word limit was 150 and this is 149.

most hits: Angel Sighting, which for reasons I’ve never been able to figure out has a bizarrely out-sized number of hits compared to the rest of my works. I’ve always wondered what the hell happened there.

most kudos: Heavy is the Crown.

most comment threads:  Heavy is the Crown.

most bookmarks: Heavy is the Crown. Seeing a pattern? There’s not much cardverse FrUK in the fandom and this was one of the longer things I’ve published.

highest total word count: 56,441 for Heavy is the Crown. I don’t really write long pieces; my usual M.O. is oneshots and vignettes, so this was definitely unusual even though it’s not a quarter as long as some other folks’ stuff. That’s why I forced myself to finish the damn thing before posting, because I was so sure I’d bail out.

favorite fic i wrote: Ooh that’s a hard question! Obviously I’m very proud of HitC if only for all the work that went into it. I’m also really proud of And Around Her Neck, A String of Comets, my Vivienne-centric fic, because I sat down to write a little oneshot and over the course of a week wrote and finished this beast. I also still enjoy The Fall and "Come,” she bade, two Solas/Lavellan pieces focusing on their dreams about each other.

fic i want to rewrite/expand on: I’d like to do more with Vivienne and some oneshots that fit into the String of Comets verse. I would also like to finish Mistakes We Learned Growing Up. I also always meant to do a follow-up to Rain Over Kirkwall that would be a Hawke/Sebastian reunion, either at Starkhaven or Skyhold.

share a bit of a wip or story idea you’re working on: I haven’t touched any writing for a few weeks (been drawing mostly) but I’ve had a Hawke/Orsino reunion piece half-done in my drafts for months.

“You just say the word and I’ll spirit you off to some distant corner of Thedas where the Templars will never find us,” she said, giving him a smile. “I do have practice hiding apostates.” Orsino would never leave his mages—Hawke knew that. But she had to offer anyway, just as she had offered back in Kirkwall, before Anders had forced their hands. As frustrating as it was, Orsino’s unwillingness to just sneak off with her and forget the whole messy affair, she couldn’t resist a surge of pride in how he cared for them. Once the guardian of Kirkwall’s mages, that feeling had expanded to the rest of those under his command in the war. It had made him popular among Kirkwall’s mages in the early days and it made him well-liked among those now serving the Inquisition.

“Someday I may take you up on that offer,” he said, reaching for his drink.

“So you keep saying.” Hawke’s remark did not come out with the playful teasing or lighthearted dismissal she meant it to have. Her ability to fool herself and Orsino with that deceptively casual offer had faded long ago, if only by the sheer number of times she had proposed it, to say nothing of the searching look in her eyes every time it arose. Orsino knew she would offer it seriously, if she did not know with certainty that he would say no.

Wincing at the sound of longing in her own voice, she sucked down a long drink of beer and used the pint to hide her face. Orsino studied the barrels of booze behind the bar and didn’t look at her. “Hey, do you want to go upstairs?” she asked, glancing around the bar. “It’s quieter up there.” He nodded and took the hand Hawke offered him down off his stool. She kept hold of him and led him up to the little room the Inquisition had given her. Alone with her old lover for the first time in years, Hawke had to fight off a sudden and pathetic impulse to get weepy. She looked down at their joined hands and rubbed her thumb over his fingers. “No more nail polish?” she asked, a little smile tugging at her lips.

“It’s not really a priority now,” he answered.

“I’ll find some for you,” she said. “It was a good look.” When he met her eyes, she couldn’t read the look there, but it was more conflicted than she wanted it to be. “Hey,” she said gently, cupping his cheek with one hand. “Whatever’s going on in your head, stop that. I finally found you, and we’re not going to ruin it with some responsibility crap, okay?”

Tagging: @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold and @hetahonda

[bloom-bloom-pow]

head in the clouds: part one

it's just you and i, and no other guys, we got no interruptions and we both feelin' the vibe...

sitting on the cold linen floors with your best friend heeseung, he wipes away the hot tears rolling down your cheeks. he shushes your cries by offering you snacks, the back of his hand stroking your cheek. it's comforting, to say the least. it's uncomfortable, to say the most.

but you know the real reason why he's holding you tight and treating you right. you would hate to think that he's doing this just to shoot his shot after all these years, but your brain can't help but think of the worst. someone to hug is better than no one, you think to yourself, burying your head deeper into heeseung's chest.

say i'm not your type, but i know what's on your mind, we can talk about nothin' or we can see what it's like...

and heeseung knows that you've never liked him. like that. you've always had a thing for his best friend, and he can't change that he'll always be the boy who's just been your best friend, for now, ten years. and secret admirer for three.

everything would have been easier if you weren't so transparent. and until today, heeseung could have confidently said he knows you like the back of his hand. but now he's torn between talking it out or hugging it out. everything feels wrong in his eyes.

he wishes that he could kiss your tears away and crack a joke to make you smile. but he knows his limits. it gets harder and harder for him to see you break down in the cold night, all he wants is for you to be happy, even at the cost of his happiness. that's how much he loves you... and that's how much he hates himself.

don't lie, baby don't lie, his love never felt right.

heeseung and you both know what he's about to do a few minutes after he dried your tears. he starts listing all the reasons you shouldn't have been dumped and how he could have treated you better. it's selfish of him, to say the least, but you're so empty you can't form a response.

switch sides and i’m beside you, if you say it's alright. never meant to cross you, think i want you.

you can't hold in anything anymore. your face is so raw from the salty tears pouring down your face, and your heart is so raw from being crushed. you're so broken inside and out already, and start to make sense of the words spewing out of heeseung's mouth.

you give him a chance. you really try to, and you patiently give him a chance to ramble before cutting him off with a kiss. it was unexpected for both of you, feeling oh-so-right for one, and oh-so-wrong for the other.

you say this ain't love but it's still the same love, make love, anything to sate ya, don't be shy, you decide. say can i make you mine?

you lean back, regretting everything that had happened in the last ten minutes. you didn't expect to be kissing your childhood best friend on the bathroom floor, and you didn't expect to completely regret it, either. it was so wrong, it almost felt right, but heeseung knew more than anyone that it wasn't something he'd ever get to experience again.

you stood up to leave heeseung for good, but unable to face the boy who was beside you through thick and thin. wiping a final tear away, you whispered a shaky goodbye and left him before any more regret would sink in.

masterlist // previous // next

taglist: @wonwoosh @enluv @angelhee @bluejaem @skiez @stealanity @strwberrydinosaur @highkeygolden @bunnylover0193 @jcngseongs @laetishia @1800-love-me @sunooenthusiast @penny-quinn @whatinthebts @rae-blogging @jjhsdoll @rainoo @mochi-ficz @abdiitcryy @j3ntle @hseungace @enhaphile @softforqiankun @jakeycore @envirae @baekhyunstruly @woniecstasy @sassymuv

[bloom-bloom-pow]

head in the clouds: part two

i don't want a friend (just me), i want my life in two (my life in two)

jay knows what's best for you, and knows that his brother isn't the answer. he wants to share his life with someone, he wants to meet someone halfway and share all his hopes and dreams with them. but every time, he can only see you filling in that special someone spot.

and he's trying too. you notice that he hasn't been the same since you rejected him freshman year, but it's hard to get over someone you see almost every hour of the day. out of sight, out of mind, he tells himself. too bad he has to fake a smile when he's with you and has a genuine one while dreaming of you.

just one more night, waiting to get there. waiting for you all night, i’m done fighting all night...

he's sick of his brother treating you like trash. like just some chewed-up piece of nasty flavored bubblegum picked off a sidewalk only to be chewed and spat out again. how could someone who shared so much DNA shatter the glass he had chased after for so long? maybe it was in jay park's DNA to never deserve happy endings.

when I'm around slow dancing in the dark, don't follow me, you'll end up in my arms...

jay doesn’t know what he’s doing with his life either. he follows you blindly, like a lost puppy-- more like a heartbroken one who has a villain origin story centered around the only person he truly loves. you always tell him to give you space- which he does give you for a bit. but then he gets hurt and he’s back in your arms again. it’s a constant cycle, a toxic one in fact, and it’s bringing both of you down.

he knows it too, just like he claims to know everything else about you, but would rather drown with you than let go for you to breathe. it’s suffocating under all the lies and phoniness, and it’s hard for him to want nothing more than friends. and that’s the one and only thing jay park can’t wrap around his thick skull. that you don't want him. that you don't need him.

you have made up your mind, i don't need no more signs, give me reasons we should be complete. you should be with him, i can't compete.

he’s slowly losing himself in the process. it’s really starting to show every time you show up at his house to go on a date with his brother, and it’s starting to show when he’s watching you slow dance with his brother in the living room. he’s too pathetic to buy an apartment on his own because he wants to catch a glimpse of you before work, after work, and all in between.

you looked at me like I was someone else, oh well... can't you see? i don't wanna slow dance in the dark...

he wishes he could be the one who slow dances with you, he wishes he could be the one that holds your hand. he wishes he could be the one to take you out for your favorite desserts, and wishes it was your hands running through his hair. he wishes you would be comfortable with him when he wipes your tears, he wishes his brother never laid a hard hand on your face, he wishes you would stop pretending you were okay, but most of all: he wishes he wasn’t just as much of a monster as his brother.

masterlist // previous // next

taglist: @wonwoosh @enluv @angelhee @bluejaem @skiez @stealanity @strwberrydinosaur @highkeygolden @bunnylover0193 @jcngseongs @laetishia @1800-love-me @sunooenthusiast @penny-quinn @whatinthebts @rae-blogging @jjhsdoll @rainoo @mochi-ficz @abdiitcryy @j3ntle @hseungace @enhaphile @softforqiankun @jakeycore @envirae @baekhyunstruly @woniecstasy @sassymuv @sunghoonsmole

[bloom-bloom-pow]

head in the clouds: part four

lately... i can't help but think that our roads might take us down different phases... when everything's so pure, can it be aimless? painless?

dear park sunghoon,

it’s crazy we’ve been dating for as long as we have been. almost two years now, and to be honest, it seems like we haven’t connected in the last one and a half. you said you love me, and i’m sure you do. but we’re not right for each other, and i can’t believe it’s taken me so long to say so.

if you ever go, all the songs that we like will sound like bittersweet lullabies...

it was never your intention to get accepted into a huge kpop agency when i had merely said to audition as a joke...

but now you’re coming home a little later than usual, and i know something’s going on. you’ve told me multiple times that you don’t have time for me, which hurt a little more than you’ll ever know.

i cheered you on, i was your biggest fan… i think i still am. but i think and know that you know the popularity is getting to your head.

we’re going different directions, and now i can’t even remember the last date we went on. hell, i can’t even remember the last time i made you smile. by the time you get this letter, you might even roll your eyes when you see who it’s from.

lost in the blue.. they don't love me like you do. those chills that i knew, they were nothing without you...

did we ever break it off? we’re so.. disconnected? far apart? unavailable? gone? from each other’s lives that it’s hard to tell what you’re thinking. what about the time you were so excited to hug me when you got home? when you told me i was your safe place? when you sang to me to sleep? i don’t think i’ll be able to forget about those memories, even if you officially call it quits.

we don’t have a label, which i’m okay with, but i don’t know where the boundaries are anymore. i haven’t even told you i went on a date with a complete stranger i met at the train station…

and everyone else? they don't matter now...

but he.. wasn’t you. his name was sort of similar to yours, though. kim sunoo? maybe you’ve heard of him. either way, even though he made me smile, he didn’t hold my hand the way you did, he didn’t kiss me the way you did, and he didn’t make me feel the way you did. you might blame it on him just being a completely different person, but i think it’s my way of telling you that nobody loves me like you do.

you're the one i can't lose... no one loves me like you do.

i can’t lose you, park sunghoon, though i think i already have. i’ve seen the news articles, i’ve seen your private instagram account, i’ve seen the flirty glances, i’ve seen it all. i hope you love her like you loved me.

masterlist // previous // next

taglist: @wonwoosh @enluv @angelhee @bluejaem @skiez @stealanity @strwberrydinosaur @highkeygolden @bunnylover0193 @jcngseongs @laetishia @1800-love-me@sunooenthusiast @penny-quinn @whatinthebts @rae-blogging@jjhsdoll @rainoo @mochi-ficz @abdiitcryy @j3ntle @hseungace@enhaphile @softforqiankun @jakeycore @envirae@baekhyunstruly @woniecstasy @sassymuv @sunghoonsmole @sungminie

[bloom-bloom-pow]

head in the clouds: part three

hello.. are you awake right now? god, I just need to hear the sound of you. please, calm me down.

jesus christ, jake is smart. he knows that your read receipts will show once you listen to the voice messages despite never turning them on for him, and he knows that you've never been in the right state of mind at 2:36AM.

pressing the small triangle on your screen, you listened to the voice that had soothed you for almost a year straight. it's also the same voice that you heard with his ex one night while he blatantly cheated on you, and the same voice that bitterly accepted the fact that you were done with him. but now he's crawling back into your phone, your heart, your mind, and your memories.

you send him one back, cussing him out and telling him that he's the most selfish man you've ever met. the second you feel triumphant, another voice message comes in. your heart sinks when you listen to it-- it confirms that he's sober.

and i know that it’s selfish, but you are the only thing that’s ever made sense to me...

you roll your eyes, about to gag from how cliche he was. two weeks was how long he cheated for, and two weeks was all it took for you to move on. so then, why was he so.. clingy?

i don't wanna do this, i don't know how to do this without you

he sounded like he meant his words at this point, but you really couldn't care less. do what? life without you? he seemed to be fine with his lips on someone else, the smile on his face able to charm anyone. you were about to hiss out a "deal with it" but you could slightly hear that he was on the verge of tears.

when you come home, i just got over being less of you. when you leave me, i’m in pieces...

it hurts. it really does. the first long-term relationship that you had to end, because jake couldn't keep to his promise. he said that he couldn't get enough of you the first day he said "i love you" but since then, he's been seeing less and less of you, making less and less time for you, loving you less and less each day.

"maybe it's better if we cut it loose…"

you whisper back, having a feeling you should block him alright. you reluctantly ask him if he's okay with never seeing you again, and regret the words that slipped out of your mouth after hearing his response.

no, i'm not okay… tell me how your day was...

stumped. that's absolutely how jake makes you feel. you really shouldn't be texting your ex, really nobody at all considering how late it is now, but something about his voice coats all your pain. you tell him that you have a boyfriend, just to tick him off, but he can clearly hear the lies straight through your teeth.

he shouldn't miss you, and you shouldn't miss him. but you can't live without the other in your life. that's the cold truth, though neither of you is willing to sacrifice your pride and admit to your neediness.

i don't know, i don't know, i don't know… i don't know how to do this without you

you take a painful breath in, shaking your head of all the good memories stained into your brain. you decided to do it, for once and for all: press the little red button. delete contact? delete contact. goodbye, jake sim.

masterlist // previous // next

taglist: @wonwoosh @enluv @angelhee @bluejaem @skiez@stealanity @strwberrydinosaur @highkeygolden @bunnylover0193 @jcngseongs @laetishia @1800-love-me@sunooenthusiast @penny-quinn @whatinthebts @rae-blogging@jjhsdoll @rainoo @mochi-ficz @abdiitcryy @j3ntle @hseungace@enhaphile @softforqiankun @jakeycore @envirae@baekhyunstruly @woniecstasy @sassymuv @sunghoonsmole @sungminie

[bloom-bloom-pow]

masterlist release date: 07 01 21

part one release date: 07 05 21

part two release date: 07 08 21

part three release date: 07 11 21

part four release date: 07 14 21

[nightingiall]

things i love about you: we make the rules

a post-little do you know drabble series // story page

Mona didn’t know how this happened.

Okay, well, that was a lie. Of course she knew how this happened.

She and Niall were consenting adults in a long-term relationship. It was honestly more of a surprise that this sort of thing was happening now, after four or five years of their intimate relationship, rather than sooner.

Still, that didn’t change the way her heart felt like a jackhammer in her chest at the moment, as she stood in the bathroom watching the pregnancy test stick like a hawk. She didn’t know why she was doing this to herself, psyching herself out over every sound and creak of their apartment. There was no one else there, with Niall gone at work and not expected to be back for another few hours or so.

She had felt strange over the last couple of days. Different, somehow, in a way she couldn’t explain. And she had never been the type to keep track of her period, simply counting on it arriving every single month, not paying attention to whether it was late or early by a few days. But this time, she noticed. Specifically, the absence of it. And something in her told her that maybe she should make a quick stop at the drugstore near her job to pick up a pregnancy test, just in case.

Now, there she was, trying not to hyperventilate in the middle of the bathroom as she waited for the stick to give her an answer.

It didn’t help that this very action had been on her mind all night, a constant needling thought that followed her through the outstretched hours because Niall had chosen that specific day to come home early, which meant she couldn’t take the test right away. She was forced to laugh and smile like nothing was happening, even though she’d never been good at pretending, even though her nerves trembled within her at every movement. If Niall noticed she was on edge, he didn’t comment.

She was tempted a few times throughout the night to just sneak into the bathroom and get it over with, but she only got about halfway out of bed before Niall’s soft snoring stopped her and she was quickly shuffling in next to his warmth again, her heart thumping at ten thousand beats a minute. Then, as he instinctively pulled her into him and murmured something in his sleep, she realized that she wouldn’t dare try and take the pregnancy test in his proximity, despite her impatience, because he knew her better than the back of his own hand and would probably catch her while she was still opening the damn packaging.

So she waited. Even though the hours were agonizingly, excruciatingly long. She called in a sick day at work because she simply couldn’t fathom bringing herself to leave the house today. Then, after a sleepless, restless night, she got out of bed a little on the early side and cooked breakfast, just to have something to do.

“Mmmm, breakfast?” Niall had hummed as he walked into the kitchen after getting dressed, looking handsome as always in a navy blue shirt and dark grey trousers, not a wrinkle in sight, the garments pressed to perfection just last night. Today, she knew, was a big day for him at the office since he was interviewing some hotshot entrepreneur for a story in the paper, meaning he’d be home late, meaning it was the perfect opportunity to take the stupid pregnancy test once and for all. Maybe even sit down with a glass of wine and a good novel when it came back negative. “What’s the occasion?”

Mona had shrugged, sending him a smile over her shoulder before turning her attention back to the omelette currently sizzling away in the pan. “Got tired of eating cereal and fruit every day. Wanted a change.”

At that, Niall had laughed, a bright, buoyant sound that somehow made the sun shine brighter. Instead of filling her with the usual joy, though, a heavy sort of weight had settled low in her tummy at her sudden realization of the fact that the test may very well not come back negative. A sick feeling curled its way up her throat at the thought.

She ignored it, flipping the omelette onto a plate and sliding it on the table for Niall, placing a cup of coffee next to it. When she turned around to get started on preparing one for herself, Niall tutted behind her, his hands sliding down her sides and easily slotting into the curve of her waist. “No good morning kiss with that lovely meal?” he asked, words a breathy whisper at her jawline.

She squirmed at the way he nuzzled into her neck, his facial hair that was now grown out enough to be called a beard tickling her skin. “No!” she laughed. “Eat your breakfast.”

“C’mon,” he pleaded, turning her around after she placed a cover on the skillet and pouting at her. “And why are you still in your pj’s and not in one of your sexy CEO outfits.” His hands were a warm weight on her, voice dipped so low that it had goosebumps rippling all across her skin. She rolled her eyes at him to not let on that he was getting to her. “We could’ve matched today.”

Mona often went into her job in business attire, which was what Niall had dubbed as “sexy CEO-wear,” since he didn’t have to adhere to strict dress codes and could stroll into his office wearing jeans and a nice tee. She didn’t know how to tell him that she’d taken a sick day without spilling the rest of her current predicament to him, so she simply swatted him away and dodged all of his attempts of kissing her. “You’re insatiable! Your breakfast is getting cold and you’ll be late if you keep this up.”

She turned away from him again, lifting the skillet cover to check on her omelette, which was nearly ready to be flipped, but not before noticing the way he frowned at her. His arms were around her again as he swayed them gently along to the beat of Selena’s “I Could Fall In Love,” which was playing softly from the radio on the kitchen windowsill. Soft and delicate as always, he pressed his lips to the pulse point on her neck, three feather light touches in slow succession, and he waited for her to slide the omelette onto a plate and turn the burner off before speaking.

“Nothing is wrong, right?” Turning her around with his hands on her hips, he tightened his hold on her slightly, sending her a sweet smile.

“No,” she responded, trying to keep her voice level as she returned his smile. “Why?”

He shrugged as best he could with his arms wrapped around her. “Just making sure. You and your brain. Unpredictable.” Mona scoffed, rolling her eyes, which had his smile growing brighter. It was only then that she relaxed enough to take him in—bright blue eyes emphasized by the color of his shirt, broad shoulders firm under her fingers, and a soft giggle falling from his sweet, peachy lips right into her heart. He seemed to notice this relaxing of her demeanor because he tilted his head slightly, leaning into her. “So about that kiss…”

Mona couldn’t help the way she laughed at that. “You are unbelievable,” she muttered as she closed the gap between their lips. His lips curved into a smile and she felt the uneasiness inside her dissolve.

A soft sigh into her mouth, a gentle nip of her lower lip, and she was melting right into him, her rushing thoughts dissipating into the soundwaves of the song playing on the radio. “If it were up to me I’d drag you back to bed right now,” he whispered into her skin.

She hummed into his lips. “Then you’d be extra late.”

Arms around her tightened as he swept her off her feet and placed her right into a chair at the kitchen table, laughing the whole time. “Aren’t you going to be late,” he retorted after placing her own plate of food in front of her, a cup of coffee just the way she liked it following shortly after, before he settled in the seat next to her.

She shrugged, averting her eyes and busying herself with taking a sip of her morning caffeine. “I don’t think so. All I’ve gotta do is change and do my makeup at the office.” The lie nearly got caught in her throat and she had to force it down by shoving a piece of egg into her mouth. Sure enough, when she looked up, Niall was making a face that told her he was unconvinced, so she tried to pivot. “And anyway, I’m tired of always rushing around in the mornings. Sometimes all I want is a good breakfast and time to enjoy it.”

He seemed to like that answer because he began quickly forking bits of his breakfast into his mouth, washing it all down with big gulps of coffee, only pausing when his plate was clean to send her a sheepish smile as she eyed him amusedly. With a sigh, he reached for her fingers, tugging her into his lap as he sat back into his chair, head leaning back when she easily draped her arms over his shoulders.

“You’re actually right,” he said softly, hands skimming up and down her sides. Mona quirked a brow in question, tracing the curve of his brows with a finger, trailing it down the contours of his face. “I’m tired of rushing around all the time too. All I want to do is lounge around with you for, like, a week. Preferably in a bed.”

She chuckled against his skin. Somehow she’d started to press soft kisses on the tip of his nose, to the hinge of his jaw, over his temples. Sometimes, her body reacted to him of its own accord, without her brain having to send any signals to her limbs, and she often found herself reaching out to him for no reason, touching, caressing. It comforted her in a way nothing else really could, his proximity, the warmth of his skin.

“You know,” she murmured, pulling back only to be delighted by the pink tinge that rose to the tops of his cheeks. “Harlow did mention recently that we should go on a vacation somewhere. She said we work too much.”

Niall laughed, pulling her closer, even though she didn’t think that was possible. “She’s not wrong.” He busied himself with tucking flyaway strands of her hair back into her bun, eyes glazed over in thought. It was a few moments before he spoke again. “I actually love that idea. Let’s go somewhere. Get out of this city for a week or so.”

“Yeah?” His eyes were sparkling more than she’d seen in a while, and she’d do anything to make them shine like that all the time. “What d’you have in mind?”

“Somewhere warm. I wouldn’t mind a beach.” Then he sent her a mischievous wink. “Preferably somewhere where you’d wear the least amount of clothes possible.”

Mona’s resulting laugh echoed throughout the kitchen. “You’re insufferable!” Niall was cackling his little heart out when she climbed off of him, giggling even while shrugging on his suit jacket and pocketing his phone and wallet.

“Does that mean I can’t get a kiss?” He blinked innocently at her, blue eyes catching the sunlight filtering in through the kitchen window and absolutely glittering.

She gave him a look, fingers reaching out to smooth the slight wrinkles that had appeared on his previously crisp shirt. Her wonderful sunshine boy. Just a smile and she was flying right into his orbit. And at his laughter, a warmth bubbled through her, that previous nervous energy that had plagued her all night dissipating just by her being in his presence alone. “I already kissed you. And you’re going to be late if you don’t leave in the next five minutes.”

He pouted. “But that was a ‘good morning’ kiss. This one would be a ‘good luck’ kiss.”

She’d rolled her eyes and swatted him towards the door, his laughter echoing throughout their apartment. She finally got him to leave, but not before relenting and allowing him to pull her close so he could press one more languid kiss to her lips. After she murmured a good luck to him, he was on his way.

And now she was here, staring at a stupid plastic stick as she awaited its assessment of her fate. Despite her impatience last night and this morning, she ended up procrastinating anyway, finishing her breakfast, enjoying her cup of coffee, washing up the dishes, cleaning the kitchen until it was spotless. She even made the bed and vacuumed the apartment, and by the time she had run out of things to do to put off the inevitable, three hours had passed.

She shouldn’t have done so many chores, she thought begrudgingly to herself now. Because as she waited for the result, she had nothing to do except pace back and forth and wonder what she’d do if the test came back positive. She and Niall had talked about a lot of things over the course of their relationship, but for some reason, having children never really appeared on the discussion list. If the test showed her the dreaded positive result, she didn’t know how Niall would react, and that made her all the more nervous.

Her and Niall having kids. She’d thought about it, she wasn’t going to lie. But it had always been in the context of the future, some far away time, a few years from now, when the two of them were people who had their shit together, who were married and owned a house somewhere in the suburbs and maybe had a few pets. Not now, when they were so early in their careers and lived in a rather cramped apartment in New York City.

She thought and thought and still the damn stick didn’t give her an answer. After peering closely at it for a few long moments, she couldn’t tell whether the display was showing one line or two and ended up banging the thing hard against the sink in her frustration, groaning loudly. How could she be so stupid as to not to pick up more than one test? Her brain was screaming at her in absolute annoyance for her unpreparedness.

With a huff, she stuffed the stupid thing back into its packaging and then in the drugstore paper bag she’d gotten it in with the intention of throwing it in the dumpster outside. She couldn’t risk Niall finding it; the questions would be relentless and she would have the answers to none of them. As she grabbed her keys before headed out, her mind ran wild, making her nearly sick with worry.

Literally. She felt a sudden wave of nausea pass through her, the feeling bubbling up and up until she had no choice but to run towards the bathroom and pray she made it before she made a mess everywhere. She’d just pushed up the toilet seat before she was vomiting.

By the time she was done, if felt like she’d been hurling out the contents of her stomach for hours, and as she sat up against the wall and tried to catch her breath, all of her energy seemed drained out of her. Her rasping inhales were loud in the silence of the apartment, bouncing around the acoustics of the bathroom, taunting her as she tried to summon some strength to pull herself off the floor. Once she did and caught a glance of herself in the mirror, she nearly jolted back. Her face, completely pale and void of color, looked almost ghostly.

Perhaps she’d psyched herself out so much over this, nerves trembling within her for nearly the past twenty four hours, that it caused loss of sleep and literal sickness.

Or maybe, her brain so conveniently reminded her, she was pregnant.

Suddenly, she was crying. One moment she was washing her face, and the next, salty tears were trailing rivers down her cheeks. The feeling she’d been ignoring, that had been growing steadily inside her for the past day, winding her up so tight, had now burst and turned into a full-blown panic.

And all she could think about was how much she regretted. She wished she bought more than one pregnancy test, wished that she didn’t procrastinate this morning, wished Niall was there to hold her and comfort her because loneliness suddenly curled around her like a vice, wished she’d told him about what was bothering her instead of lying. Perhaps that was what troubled her most of all, that she’d lied through her teeth and he didn’t so much as bat an eye. If—maybe even when—he found out what she’d done, she was afraid that it would tear a huge hole in his trust in her.

What if their relationship didn’t recover from that? What if he decided he didn’t want to be with a liar who kept secrets? Guilt was eating at her, tearing up limb from limb. She should have told him. Why didn’t she tell him?

Needless to say, she was freaking out.

The rational part of her brain fought through the chaos to tell her that she was worrying for no reason, that she didn’t do anything so bad that would cause Niall to resent her. She took that thought and used it, and the rest of her energy, to pull herself together. A few deep breaths and a pep talk later, and she managed to walk out the bathroom to grab her keys again, despite her heart beating twice as much and her bones feeling like jelly.

She took the paper bag holding her used pregnancy test all the way down to the dumpster at the back of the building, realizing only when she got there that she hadn’t brought her wallet, which meant she had to go all the way back up to get it if she wanted to be able to grab another test and make it home before Niall got back. Just the thought of that had her nausea rising within her again, and she had to lean against the brick wall and take long, deep breaths in order to tamp the feeling down.

Time had just gotten away from her today. She had no idea how long she stood there, trying to quell the urge to vomit again, before she was able to bring herself to go back into the building. The mere action of walking into the elevator had her breaking into a sweat.

As soon as she got back to the apartment, it was clear to her that time wasn’t the only thing not on her side today. She was also lacking a good amount of luck.

Because as soon as she pushed the door open, her eyes landed on none other than her boyfriend standing at the kitchen table.

“You’re home,” Mona blurted out, unable to hide the surprise in her voice.

“Yeah.” He wasn’t looking at her, too busy rolling up his cuffs in that meticulous way he liked, a smug smile on his face, probably because he managed to catch her off guard. “The interview went great so the lads and I left early. I decided to come home and change before I met them at the bar for drinks because—” His face hardened when he got a good look at her as she stepped further into their place, blue eyes widening, first in shock, and then concern. She must have looked terrible if the way he gasped in a breath was any indication. “Darlin’.” His voice was filled with alarm and it had her heart stopping again. “Jesus, what’s wrong?”

“I…” He was on her in an instant, hands curling around her arms as he gently guided her towards the couch. She belatedly realized her knees had been buckling under her weight, a fact that was now clearly reflected in Niall’s expression as he pressed the back of his fingers to her forehead, sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

“You look dreadful and you’re cold as ice.” Somehow, through her racing mind and loud rush of blood in her ears, Mona was able to register Niall’s hands, a reassuring warmth rubbing her own to draw heat in her skin. His eyes flashed towards hers worriedly and suddenly she was blurting out her first thought.

“I lied.” Her voice sounded strangled. “I didn’t go to work today. I called out sick. And I—”

“What’s wrong?” Niall was already reaching for his phone. His voice was laced with panic. “Should I call the doctor? Should I take you to the hospital?”

Mona was starting to feel nauseous again. “No, I—” It was only then that she realized how hoarse her voice was, throat scratching. She was going to start gagging soon, she knew it. “I think I need some water.” She’d barely taken another breath before a glass of water was appearing before her, Niall’s distressed eyes following as he helped her drink.

“I should take you to the doctor.” Warm hands were smoothing over her forehead, and Mona tried to focus on that instead of the apprehensive lilt of Niall’s voice. His stress was making her feel even more guilty and it was eating her up inside. “You know what, let’s go. The urgent care down the road should be open. I’ll go grab your insurance card.”

“No!” The water had helped clear her mind and throat, her voice coming out stronger than before. “Niall, I don’t need to go to the doctor—”

“Now is not the time for your stubbornness, Namona.” He was glaring at her now, already moving around the couch to reach for her purse. “You look like you need a doctor.”

She tried to take a deep breath because she knew she was so close to hyperventilating. “Niall, please, I swear I’m fine!” He was rifling through her wallet now, looking for her insurance card. “I just threw up. All I need is rest and—”

“Namona.” He was getting impatient now, and Mona knew if she didn’t convince him, he’d haul her over his shoulder and drag her to urgent care himself. She looked at him imploringly and he narrowed his eyes at her, a stand-off. He broke when a tear unwittingly welled up along her lashline. “Okay, okay,” he sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “How about this. Let me take your temperature. If you have a fever, we go. If not, we give it an hour or so, and if you get worse, then—”

“Fine. Deal.” She was filled with nervous energy now. And this proposition was good enough to buy her more time to work up the courage to just tell him the truth. Niall simply looked at her, wary, as he sighed again before heading to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit where the thermometer was.

As soon as he was out of view, she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She downed the glass of water in her hands in three quick gulps and then started towards the kitchen for a refill. This time, at least, her legs didn’t feel like they’d give out under her. Another glass of cold water down and she was feeling a bit more calm, ready to just tell Niall what was actually bothering her and hope that he didn’t hate her for it.

She didn’t get too far with that thought, though.

“Did you take a pregnancy test?” Niall’s voice felt like it echoed throughout the space and Mona froze, cringing to herself. When she turned around slowly, she found him watching her carefully. At least, she thought, he didn’t seem too angry.

Still, the lie came out of her without her having to think of it. “N-no.”

She was never a good liar. Especially when it came to Niall, who simply looked at her, calm as ever.

How could he even know about it anyway? She threw everything out. The nausea rose in her again.

As if reading her mind, he held up a piece of paper. She couldn’t read it from where she was standing, but when he spoke again, it turned out that she didn’t have to. “Then why were these instructions, that came from a pregnancy test, left on the bathroom floor?”

Good god, she was an idiot. All this trouble, all this panic, only for her to get caught red-handed anyway. This time, she was the one scrubbing a hand over her face; the tears were flowing freely now and so were her words. “Okay, fine, yes I took a pregnancy test because I didn’t get my period and I was so guilty about not telling you about it this whole time that I’m sick with it and,” a sob, “I’m really sorry, okay? I meant to tell you but I didn’t want to worry you if it was nothing but it was driving me crazy and—”

“Darlin’.” His voice was soft and gentle now, a sharp contrast to his tense tone earlier, and he’d somehow crossed the room to be close to her, gathering her into his chest. Strong arms wrapped around her, surrounding her with warmth, and she felt the beat of her heart slow slightly. “It’s alright. Don’t cry.”

She sniffled, slightly calmer now that he was holding her. “I’m really sorry,” she whimpered into the collar of his shirt, a dark spot blooming in the navy blue from her tears.

“Hey.” Fingers slotted under her chin and tugged upwards, and when she looked up at him, he was sending her a tender smile, blue eyes watching her carefully. “I am not upset with you. Did you think I would be?” She averted her eyes quickly, skin flushing in shame, but Niall, as always when they happened to broach a serious conversation, didn’t allow her to retreat into her shell. His hand caressed her face, gently pulling her gaze back to his. “Is that why you were sick? You were scared that I was going to be angry with you for this?”

Mona’s lips started to wobble again. Before she met Niall, she always felt like she was a person who didn’t get too upset at things, simply tamping down any and all emotions and going with the flow. Now, she felt like she cried at everything. Perhaps it was because with Niall, talking about her feelings was what she was supposed to do. And most of the time, it was really fucking hard. “I don’t know,” she mumbled, attempting to hide in his shirt again.

Niall sighed, and she didn’t have to look at him to know his features had fallen. “C’mere.” He led her to a chair at the kitchen table, getting her seated and then pulling up another chair so he was right in front of her, their knees touching. Their fingers tangled together as he took her hands and held them in his lap, eyes never leaving her. “Mona,” he murmured, gentle and kind, fingers squeezing hers, and it was all it took for her eyes to meet his. “You can talk to me. You can always talk to me. And if you don’t tell me something, if you need time to figure out how you want to deal with a situation, I am never going to be upset with you for that.” He leaned forward, hands leaving hers in favor of holding her face, thumbs smoothing over her cheekbones, swiping away a tear she hadn’t known had fallen. “And I’m not upset with you now. Okay?”

Mona inhaled a shuddering breath, not realizing that these words were the only things she needed to hear. She didn’t know how Niall always knew what to say to her, but it always worked. “Okay,” she agreed, hands finding his wrists. She took in his scent, the heat of his skin, the honesty in his eyes, and finally truly calmed down. Her sunshine boy. Her home. He was here and he wasn’t mad at her. “Okay.”

He seemed content with that, smiling softly at her before he pressed his lips to her forehead, stroking her cheeks again. “Good.” He paused now, perhaps expecting her to say something else, but when she just blinked at him, he looked at her eagerly. “Well? What did the test say?”

“Oh.” Mona got so caught up in all the things that didn’t matter that she’d somehow forgotten about the one thing that did. “Well, I think I picked up a faulty one. There was no result. It was an error.”

Niall’s smile fell. “So you took another one, right?”

She shrugged. “No, I only had one. I was about to go pick up another one but then you came home.”

There was something unreadable in his eyes now. “You didn’t pick up a backup?”

“No,” she huffed, giving him a look now. “And I know it was really stupid of me, okay. I was stressed out and not thinking.”

“Right.” He seemed like he didn’t know what to do now, which, to his credit, was rare for him. “Okay, how about you eat something and get some rest, and I can go pick up another one for you?” She couldn’t remember if she’d said anything, and if she did then it didn’t matter because he was already up on his feet, reaching for his keys and wallet. “I’ll be back.” After pressing a kiss to her temple, he was off, and suddenly, she was left alone with her thoughts again.

Now that the worry of Niall finding out was out the window, she was left to try and rack her brain over how she could possibly be pregnant anyway. She was on birth control, but after a quick assessment, she realized that she wasn’t very consistent with taking the pills. Sometimes she took one late or, on a really busy day, she didn’t take one at all. Perhaps she should look into getting an IUD or the shot instead.

She and Niall were also good about condoms. Though, she supposed that, paired with the fact that she wasn’t the greatest at taking her pills, a faulty or torn condom could easily lead to this situation. Then there was that day of Liam’s party. They both had quite a bit to drink and she couldn’t remember if Niall had even remembered to put a condom on, or even if she reminded him.

So, maybe there was a good chance of her being pregnant.

She sighed to herself. Now that she was clearheaded, she knew that if that were the case, if she was pregnant, that whatever the situation, they would find a way to make it work. And with that, she drank another glass of water, nibbled on some crackers, and sat in the comfort of the soft sounds of the radio until Niall returned.

When he did, she couldn’t help but notice that he was a bit jittery. “Well,” he started, handing her the bag, “I didn’t know which one to get so I just Googled which were the best ones.”

Mona peered inside only to find four different boxes, all of them different brands. Despite everything, she laughed. “Niall, I only need one.”

She looked up at him, still laughing, only to find him giving her an unamused look. His cheeks were tinged pink and his chest was heaving slightly and she had to wonder if he’d run up the stairs or something. “Yeah well what if one of them gives you another error?” he retorted rather defensively. “It’s good to have options.”

She shook her head at him before heading towards the bathroom with the bag, rummaging through it. “Which one should I take? Should I just pick one out at random?”

He was trailing behind her, hot on her heels. “Just take all of them.” She turned around to see if he was joking, his voice not sounding sarcastic at all, and was surprised to find that he looked absolutely serious. Seeing her questioning look, he bristled again. “I told you, options.”

With a huff, she rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny how amused she was now. “You know, after sitting alone with my thoughts while you were gone, I realized that maybe I was overreacting about this whole thing a little.” They got to the bathroom and she overturned the contents of the bag on the small counter beside the sink, the boxes tumbling out in a haphazard pile. She picked one at random, the ClearBlue, and began opening it. “Which is why I feel like I’m probably qualified to tell you that this,” she gestured to the pile of pregnancy tests, “is very much an overreaction.”  

Niall glared at her this time, and Mona finally noticed how disheveled he looked, hair sticking up in all directions as though he’d been running his fingers through it, tie crooked and hanging loosely around his neck. “I didn’t judge you for your overreaction so it’s only fair that you don’t judge me for mine.”

She sighed, taking in his wild eyes and flushed cheeks, realizing that he was now the one who was nervous. There weren’t really any words of consolation she could offer him at the moment though, so she simply told him to go change out of his work clothes. By the time he did that, she’d probably be done.

When he’d gone, she took all four of the pregnancy tests, shaking her head to herself as she did so, and then rested them upside down on the closed seat of the toilet when she was done. After washing her hands and splashing water over her puffy face from all the crying and heaving she’d done earlier in the day, she took a seat at the edge of the tub. Through the open door, she could see Niall pacing about in the hallway, his fingers, sure enough, carding through his hair, and she sighed again, calling out for him.

“Yeah?” he said when he stopped in the doorframe of the bathroom.

She smiled at him, hoping that would calm him down. “I took all of them.”

He exhaled, nodding. “Okay. So now we wait?” Mona nodded too, trying not to frown at the way he’d started to chew on his cuticles. It was a bit odd how fast the dynamic between them had shifted. Not even half an hour ago, she was the one freaking out and he was the calm one.

So she did what she knew she needed to do. She got to her feet, reaching out for him when she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him in for an embrace, smiling slightly when she felt him relax against her. “Why are you so nervous?” she murmured into his chest, which was covered now by a soft, worn t-shirt that smelled of detergent and something uniquely Niall. “Do you not want kids or something?”

She’d meant it as a joke but from the way he sighed, she knew he didn’t take it as one. He pulled back and she looked up at him, his guard now down, allowing her to see what he’d been hiding this whole time: fear. Now she was hyperaware of every shift in his features. “Mo,” he whispered, fingers smoothing her hair back. “Of course I want kids. With you. Only you.”

There was more he wanted to say, she could tell. So she tried to prompt him. “But?”

He averted his eyes, looking up at the ceiling as he chewed along his lower lip, probably trying to find the right words. She let him take his time, patiently holding on to him, just as he’d done for her. “But,” he started, blowing out a deep breath, “I just…I’d like for us to be more financially stable before we had kids, you know? Like, have a house and be near good schools and having the means to provide a good life for them.”

He wasn’t looking at her as he said all of this but Mona knew he was thinking of his own childhood. She felt a pang in her chest just then at the thought.

When he met her eyes again, he looked determined. “But, also,” he continued, knuckles stroking across her cheekbone. “If this is happening right now, then we will do the best we can. We will be good parents.” Something about the way he said those words had so many feelings welling up inside her again, and she had to press her face into his sternum, holding him tight, to keep herself together. “Whatever happens,” Niall said, his voice thick with emotion, “I love you.”

They held onto each other until the timer on Mona’s phone went off. And for once, she wasn’t nervous. She knew that whatever happened, they would go through it together. If she was indeed pregnant, they would do everything in their power to be the best parents they could be.

She turned the timer off and they looked at each other, both of them taking a deep breath. Niall smiled, her favorite sight, and she reached for him to press a soft kiss to his lips. He was calm now. They both were.

Together, they flipped the sticks over, peering over at the results.

And even if it ultimately didn’t matter, that whatever those sticks proclaimed they would work through it together, at the sight of the results, they both let out matching breaths of relief, laughing together as reality set in.

They weren’t going to be parents any time soon. And that was all okay with them.

~

Fingers were moving gently along her scalp in the way she loved, a warm body pressed against her back, soft pillow under her head, and as Mona opened her eyes, the bleary sight of the television coming into view, she wondered how long she was asleep.

After the craziness of the whole pregnancy scare thing, Niall roped her into his arms and dragged her to the kitchen, declaring that she needed to eat and he will be cooking her some dinner. It seemed like they’d non-verbally agreed that they would leave the past few hours of their life behind them, instead shaking the stress off and looking to the future. As Niall bustled about the kitchen, he caught her up on his day interviewing that hotshot entrepreneur. Mona laughed when he described the entrepreneur as somehow being humble and cocky at the same time, wondering out loud how that was even possible.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go meet your work buddies down at the bar?” she asked, watching him dice up an onion before adding it to the skillet.

He shrugged, looking back to send her a reassuring smile. “Nah. Don’t feel much for a pint today.”

“Are you sure?” She didn’t want to keep him when he could be out having fun. “They must be waiting for you.”

Now when he looked back, he was sending her a look, pointing the wooden spoon at her. “Namona Shaw. You need to stop worrying about useless things. I want to stay here and hang out with you and I’ve already told the lads as much.”

She frowned at him, feeling thoroughly chastised. “I just don’t want you to think that you have to be here because of what happened when you could be having a good time with your friends.” Then when she realized what she said, she cringed at herself. Okay, so maybe they were going to talk about this.

When she looked up, Niall was still looking at her wryly. “Did you hear anything I just said?” After giving the contents of the skillet a quick stir and lowering the burner, he turned around again, moving towards her to place his hands on her shoulders, blue eyes blazing. “Talk to me. What’s going on in your head?”

Mona sighed, shrugging because she knew she was being ridiculous. Sometimes all it took was Niall wanting her to articulate her thoughts out loud for her to realize it. “Like you said this morning,” she mumbled, “me and my brain. Unpredictable.”

At that, he huffed out a laugh. His hands found her head, giving it a little shake, which made her laugh too. “Damn right.” Tilting her chin up so she could meet his gaze, he sent her a fond sort of smile, shaking his head at her. “I love you, my darlin’. I’ll keep saying it until you believe it.” Warm kisses, pressed to her forehead, her temples, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. Soft and feather light, yet filling her with his sunshine nonetheless. “Now quit listening to that voice in your head while I make dinner, okay?” As he turned around, he muttered, “God, we really do need a vacation.”

They laughed and finished a bottle of wine they’d opened a few days ago. Niall sat next to her and made sure she cleaned her plate, even though she insisted that he overfilled it. He feigned annoyance at her protests and warned that he’ll force feed her himself if she didn’t eat everything and Mona rolled her eyes at him, despite being filled with affection for him.

Then, they cleaned the kitchen, got showered and changed into their sleep clothes, and settled on the couch to watch a movie, where they were still curled into one another now, Mona having fallen asleep on his lap, his arms wrapped around her.

She turned around now to look up at him only to find that he was already smiling down at her, the curve of his lips unwavering as she stretched the sleep out of her limbs before making herself comfortable again, cheek pressed to his tummy. “What?” she asked when he didn’t take his eyes off her, voice groggy. “Did I sleep too long?”

He shook his head, fingers of one hand trailing through her hair while the other stroked aimless lines over her skin, up her arm and over her collarbone, up her neck, across her jawline. “I’m gonna marry you one day,” he whispered, so quiet that the sounds of the television nearly drowned him out. But Mona was listening close. She always was. His smile grew wider and she was suddenly reminded of what Harlow said to her the other day.

I think Niall’s gonna propose to you soon.

Goosebumps rippled across her skin.

“Dunno when,” he continued, as though reading her mind, eyes never leaving hers, and something about that beautiful blue told her that he knew exactly when and she was the one that was being kept out of the loop. She decided that she didn’t mind that at all. “But I’m gonna fuckin’ marry you and we’re gonna have a bunch of tiny Nialls and Monas running around our house, somewhere quiet, and we’re gonna be so damn happy.” Mona didn’t realize until he had stopped talking that she was grinning at him like a crazy person, this dream of his, despite them never really talking about it in detail, somehow perfectly aligning with her own dream of the future, and that was when she knew for certain that he was always going to be the only person for her. “How does that sound to you?”

Mona shrugged, so consumed by the way his eyes sparkled like twinkling stars. “Nice, I guess.” At her quip, Niall shook his head, huffing out a laugh but leaning down to catch her lips regardless. “I’m just kidding,” she breathed out, hands reaching out to grab his face to pull him down the rest of the way, lips brushing against his as she said her next words, hushed into his skin. “That sounds perfect.”

Niall smiled against her lips, arms wrapping around her to hold her close, and as always when he held her like this, she felt absolutely, unequivocally whole.

Maybe he had plans, and maybe she was oblivious to them, but one thing was for certain. This sunshine boy was always going to be just hers.

[nightingiall]

things i love about you: your love is golden

a post-little do you know drabble series // story page

Mona’s favorite part of the day was getting to go home.

She loved her job and happy hour with her co-workers. She even loved meeting Harlow to grab a coffee during their respective lunch breaks or meeting the guys at Connemara’s—where she no longer worked but will sometimes help Jingle out if she was ever in a pinch—for a drink or two.

But none of those things could ever compare to getting back to her and Niall’s apartment, kicking off her shoes at the door, fingers promptly finding the warmth of her sunshine boy, the weight of the world evaporating from her shoulders.

Today, she opened the door to the heavenly scent of cinnamon, her body instantly warming up from the slight chill outside. From the kitchen came telltale sounds of Niall moving about, probably baking something, and Mona was already smiling at the thought. She shed her jacket and shoes, stowing her bag away on the hooks near the door before she followed the smell to the kitchen.

“Mmm,” she hummed as she entered, taking in the aroma of cinnamon and brown sugar and coffee, all the most homely and wonderful scents she could think of. There was her sunshine boy, back turned to her as he fiddled with something on the countertop. “Smells amazing in here.”

At the sound of her voice, Niall turned around to send her the absolute sweetest smile, a slight sheen of sweat glistening against his forehead, a bit of flour dusted across his nose and chin. Her heart warmed at the sight, never losing the opportunity to flutter at how endlessly adorable he was. And he was all hers. “Hi, darlin’,” he greeted, voice soft and warm and filled with a sort of adoration that made her toes tingle. She would never get tired of him calling her that.

“Hey, stud,” she replied through a smile, fingers automatically reaching out to swipe at the flour on his face before pulling him in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “You’re home early.” When she pulled away, she was delighted to find that rosy blush she loved so much blooming across his skin and she couldn’t help the way she laughed at the sight of it. All these years later he still couldn’t take a compliment. “Watcha making?”

He shrugged, turning his attention back to meticulously folding dough into a bundt pan. “Cinnamon roll coffee cake for Liam’s party. Special request from the birthday boy himself.”

Mona rolled her eyes but laughed nonetheless. The cinnamon roll coffee cake concoction immortalized after a particularly draining study session back when they were in college. It was four in the morning and none of them had gotten any sleep; Niall, Liam, and Harry had been mucking about in the kitchen as they procrastinated, tossing ideas back and forth of a dessert they could create, and low and behold, the cinnamon roll coffee cake was born.

It wasn’t her favorite dessert. She found it tooth-achingly sweet and too much of it could give her a headache. But, after all, it was Liam’s birthday and he loved this stuff. “What time are we leaving for that anyway?” she asked, already rummaging through the fridge for a snack. She didn’t think she’d be able to hold out until the party for food. She found some bread and decided on toast with the leftover pasta from the night before.

“Whenever you’re ready, I suppose. You know Liam’s parties…no beginning and no end.” They both shared a laugh at that. Gatherings at Liam’s place were known to get a bit wild, lasting well into the next morning. Once, Mona wondered out loud whether perhaps they were getting a bit old for the crazy rave-like parties; Harlow had mulled that over before deciding that they would never get their twenties again and they were exactly meant to be spent at Liam’s parties.

As the microwave warmed her pasta, she took at the opportunity to slink into her sunshine boy, pulling him away from his dessert preparation for a moment so she could wrap her arms around his middle. She couldn’t help it. He was wearing his softest jumper and he was always so warm. She often went about her day wishing she could have somehow captured some of his brilliance in a jar to save and carry around with her so her skin never had to tingle with the boundless way it craved him. But then she’d remember that being away made it so much sweeter to come home and wrap herself up in him like this, feeling the pools of his sunshine permeate through her skin and fill her up.

Niall, for his part, was used to this way of hers, and pulled her into him as best he could with his sugar caked hands. The microwave gave off a loud trill to signal that her food was ready but she didn’t care. She just wanted to be able to stay this way and have time stand still for them, which of course wasn’t possible, but at least they could steal these moments together when they didn’t have anywhere else to be for a while.

“You’re extra lovey today,” Niall remarked, smiling against her forehead.

She wrinkled her nose in response, looking up only for him to press a proper kiss to her lips, slow, languid, and gentle, and she absolutely melted into him. She sighed. “Long day.”

“Yeah?” He pulled away, sweet smile intact but eyes watching her carefully. “We don’t have to go tonight if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’m okay,” she said, smiling when he pressed their foreheads together. “Just a little tired.” He hummed, seemingly unbothered by that answer since he seemed perfectly content to close his eyes, holding her close in the middle of their kitchen. “How was your day?”

He shrugged as best he could with them all wrapped up in each other. “Was meant to interview someone running for city council for a story but they canceled at the last minute. Slow day so ended up leaving early.” His voice was slow and serene, dripping with sweetness and warmth. Mona made sure to savor him. She often forgot to do that with the bustle that came with a workday. Niall noticed because he always did, smiling against her cheek. “You know, I’d love to stay like this but I have to get the stuff out of the oven.”

She giggled lightly. “Fine,” she muttered, huffing slightly as she begrudgingly let him go. He swatted her playfully with a tea towel when she grabbed her food from the microwave.

They spent the rest of the time chatting aimlessly, with her eating leftovers and him putting the finishing touches on his dessert. He surprised her with a batch of chocolate chip cookies because “I know you don’t like this sugary shit so I made you your favorite,” and she thanked him with a grateful kiss.

Slowly, Mona felt the typical exhaustion brought on by the workday leave her, as it always did whenever she spent time doing absolutely nothing with Niall. He had this uncanny ability to make her feel completely at peace, her pulse a steady thrum, mind cleared from the buzz of thoughts that plagued her. He didn’t even know he was doing that for her, or at least she figured he didn’t. How could he anyway? It wasn’t something one could do on purpose.

And if she held onto to him for a few extra moments before she went off to take a shower, well then he simply smiled and took it in stride.

~

Liam’s party was, as usual, nothing short of absolutely wild.

Just as she and Niall were walking in, someone bustled past them only to puke in a plant outside someone’s door, a few loud boys trailing out afterwards, guffawing at the person for being a lightweight, and Mona sent Niall an unamused sideways look, mentioning that she almost felt like a college freshman again. Niall, in his typical easygoing fashion, simply laughed and told her to lighten up, promising that they didn’t have to stay for too long if she didn’t want to.

They parted ways shortly after making their way inside, with Niall being pulled away by Harry and Mona spotting Harlow in the distance.

“You’re back!” she said excitedly to her best friend as she approached, throwing her arms around her in an embrace. “How was Greece?”

Harlow laughed, leading Mona to the bar area for drinks. “It was really fun. And I think Zayn and I needed some time apart anyway.”

This surprised Mona. “Trouble in paradise?”

Harlow shrugged, preparing a rum and coke. “I don’t know. I just feel like things haven’t really been great between us lately. And I think he feels the same way.”

Mona accepted the drink passed to her with a frown, mulling this new information over. It was the first she’d been hearing of any trouble between her two friends, who have been in an on-and-off sort of relationship for years now. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. After all, she was never one to meddle in anyone’s relationship, only offering advice if she was asked for it.

Harlow smiled before taking a sip of her drink, and from the familiar sparkle in her eye, it was clear to Mona that she wasn’t all that upset about anything. And if Harlow wasn’t bothered, then Mona didn’t see the need to broach the subject any further. After all, they were adults and could work out their issues themselves. “It’s whatever. Wanna see some pics from Greece?”

They pushed their way out towards the balcony area to find seats, the night air warm on their skin—a stark contrast to the cold, rainy weather that morning—as they laughed at videos of Harlow’s drunk co-workers singing karaoke terribly. Harlow remarked that Mona and Niall should take a vacation somewhere since all they seemed to do was work and Mona had to admit that the idea wasn’t half bad, making a mental note to ask Niall about it later.

“By the way,” Harlow started, eyes sparkling in that mischievous way of hers, and Mona braced herself for whatever she was up to this time. “I think Niall’s gonna propose to you soon.”

Mona simply blinked at her friend, completely caught off guard. So caught off guard, in fact, that she started to laugh. “What makes you say that?”

Harlow shrugged, downing the last dregs of her drink and sliding it onto a nearby table. “I just have a feeling.” At that, Mona rolled her eyes, sending her nosy best friend an unimpressed look, which had Harlow grinning madly at her. “Okay, fine, he might have said something to me.”

A yelp left Harlow’s lips when Mona threw a napkin at her, damp from the condensation that had dripped from her cup. “You’re not supposed to tell me about it, then!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Harlow tossed the napkin right back at her, but she did at least have the decency to look a little apologetic. “This came out all wrong because I’m tipsy but I just wanted to see where your head was at, that’s all.” She smiled, eyes soft now, and when she reached out, Mona let her hold her hand. When Harlow spoke again, her voice was gentle and soothing, all traces of playfulness gone, replaced with that protective, almost maternal tone she always took up when checking in with her friend. “I just want to know if this is what you want and if you’re happy.”

Mona suddenly felt so much all at once, a million thoughts running through her head. Then, she thought of Niall, her sunshine boy, who brought light and warmth into her life every day, who loved her unconditionally, even when she didn’t love herself, even when she could be unlovable. It hadn’t been easy, letting him in completely, allowing herself to feel like she deserved him. But he made her feel so very safe and loved. He was her home, her anchor at the end of a long day, a beautiful soul whose arms were always open for her to step into whenever things felt like too much.

She looked up at Harlow again, who was still watching her carefully, her eyes filled with something Mona always saw whenever they talked about this: hope. So she smiled back, squeezing Harlow’s hand. “I am happy.” It was the honest truth. “And…I do want this.”

Harlow exhaled in what seemed to be relief, her smile growing tenfold now. “Then I am happy too.” She untangled their hands and relaxed back into her chair. “I honestly didn’t really want to have to stall him or something if this wasn’t what you wanted. I know you don’t like surprises.”

Mona laughed, thankful for her best friend in that moment for always knowing what she needed. “Thanks. But Niall and I have talked about this, you know. I guess I just didn’t really think that it would be so soon.”

Harlow waved this off. “Well, to be honest, for all I know he could have been talking about doing it next year or something. He didn’t tell me when.” She turned to give Mona an amused smirk. “Maybe he knew I’d have this conversation with you.”

They both laughed at that because it was probably true. Niall knew all of them more than they probably knew themselves. He’d somehow become the person everyone turned to for advice these days. “So,” Mona started slowly, taking a sip of her now watered-down drink. “What else did the two of you talk about.”

Harlow sent her a wicked grin at that, grabbing Mona’s drink from her hand and downing it herself. “Now, Mona darling. Some things are better kept a secret.” She giggled at her own cleverness as Mona rolled her eyes, muttering something about getting another drink before rising from her seat, Harlow following her to the bar.

The night progressed as it usually did at that sort of thing: they drank and laughed and danced. Mona tore up the dance floor with Harlow until she couldn’t feel her feet anymore, peeling away from the crowd of sweaty bodies in favor of the cool breeze of the balcony, wandering around in search of her boyfriend.

She found him on a couch, an already drunk Harry draped over him, unruly curls pressed into his neck as he rested on Niall’s shoulder, and she couldn’t help the way she laughed to herself at the sight. Harry Styles, always the lightweight.

“Hey,” she called out teasingly, slumping into Niall’s other side and giving Harry a playful shove. “Paws off my boyfriend, drunkie.”

Harry whined, frowning lopsidedly at her as he shoved her back. “Can’t we share? You know I love a good cuddle with Nially Poo and I never get to see him anymore because you hog him.”

Mona giggled at the way he grinned at her. “That’s not true!” she retorted, even though it was kind of true. She and Niall worked all the time and the little bit of free time they had was always reserved for each other. “And anyway, no we can’t share because he’s mine.”

Harry huffed, nuzzling closer to Niall regardless. “And to think I was going to tell you that I missed you,” he said sarcastically, reaching out to flick her wrist but missing, which had Niall laughing his big sunshine laugh.

Mona scoffed. “Well I didn’t miss you because I’m mad at you.” At that, Harry sat up slightly, pouting now. “You never have time to hang out with me even though you literally work across the street from me. All I ever hear from you are excuses of how busy you are.”

“That’s not true!” Harry groused.

“It is kind of true,” Niall said, shrugging when Harry sent him a sad look. “I mean, we usually hear updates about you from Jingle, of all people.”

Harry sighed, apologizing. He caught them up on his new job at an elementary school, how it was a bit crazy and he was so tired at the end of the day that he didn’t have the energy to socialize. He promised to stop by one day when Niall offered to cook him dinner and his favorite cupcakes, his spirits lifted at the mention of food. Mona even got in a cuddle with him before they were all being gathered to another room where Liam was going to cut his cake, a massive thing with sparklers on top.

When Harry, Niall, and Mona found Zayn and Harlow, they all took photos and smashed cake into Liam’s face, laughing their heads off the entire time, and Mona realized how much she missed seeing her friends every day now that they didn’t all live in the same apartment complex. They made the most of their time together anyway, getting stupid drunk and dancing the night away like a bunch of idiots.

When the night wound down, she pulled Niall into her, their bodies swaying gently to the slow song that had been playing through the speakers. He smiled at her and she melted into him, thinking of Harlow’s words earlier, thinking of starting a new chapter of life with him. The mere idea of it filled her with an unparalleled happiness, the feeling bubbling through her, growing tenfold when he leaned in to press a kiss to her lips.

“What’re you so smiley about,” he murmured against her mouth, a laugh knocking around in his throat, and she couldn’t help herself when she kissed him again, not caring that they were in the middle of the dance floor.

“I’m just really happy,” she whispered back, and she knew that he heard her through the music because he smiled even bigger.

And maybe she had too much to drink. Or maybe she was just drunk on happiness and Niall. But she couldn’t help herself later when she tugged him into a bathroom to kiss him deeper and harder, couldn’t help her fingers as they curled into the waistband of his jeans, and especially couldn’t help the way she reached out to turn the lock on the door when he let out a delicious sigh into her mouth.

Besides, they hadn’t been reckless in a while.