All Those Missing Pieces; Niam & Larry *Completed*

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

The boys sat around Niall’s small, wooden desk in Ireland, a thick blanket of snow coating the ground outside of his window. Zayn had a thin layer of stubble atop his head, and his plaid shirt was rolled up, his bright Leukemia ribbon showing. Liam sat beside Niall, his palms flat on his boyfriend’s stomach as Niall leaned against his chest. Louis sat perched in Harry’s lap, and all of the boys were focused on a single sheet of loose leaf paper, thrown between them, within eyesight of all them. Niall held his guitar lamely in his hand, his fingers hovering over the frets he knew so well. Louis tapped his foot arithmetically, making sure the other boys new the beat as well. “One two, one two, ready and go.” Zayn said, his voice gruff from many sleepless nights and sobs, and the boys launched into the song as Niall strummed the chords on his small, acoustic guitar.

“For you Leam,” Louis said, lifting his eyes heaven ward, and they all dove into the song.

“Can’t believe you’re, packing your bags,” Zayn began, his voice throaty and stoic as the sun set outside of Niall’s bedroom, glinting off the white snow. No other words needed to be spoken.

5 boys sat, forever changed, inside of a small bedroom, singing to a tune the world would eventually know, but not know. Because no little girl knew who they really sung it too. And no fan knew, that Leam was, for a few days, Louis’ daughter. And no one knew that Zayn kept the letter she wrote before she passed away inside of his pocket.

When the song ended, Zayn slipped outside, leaning against the black guard rail he lit up a cigarette. He even puffed arrogant smoke rings in her honor, and he pulled out a single slip of white paper.

     I guess there’s something to be said for boy-bands. And there’s something to be said for heroes, and Vegas, and vomit in buckets, and crazy nurses and devoted fans. There’s something to say about religion, and Christ, and those who have faith in faith and hope in hope. Something to be said for bald heads, and cats, and boys who find love through disaster. Something to be said for little girls who in only a couple of short days, live with more happiness and adventure than most people experience in their life time. There’s something to be said for Thank yous’, good-bye’s and I love you’s. Something to be said about German Sheppard puppies, and couple names, and smoke halos that float above your head. Something to be said about 5 boys who changed into men when someone needed them. There’s something to be said for people who hurt themselves, for people who are loved, for the outcasts, and the loners, and for the hidden talents. There’s always been something to be said, and always will be. Something to be said about varsity jackets, Ireland, and British accents. Something to be said for razor blades, and tears, and those moments when silence falls because there are no words to be said. There is something to be said, from me to all of you, and it can be stated in a million different ways. I’ll just say thanks. For helping me, and my heart, and my needs, for as long as you could.

And remember, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

The driver might’ve been drunk, but he, was not the one swerving.

   P.s. Remember, Zaynie, you look hideous when you cry. ~L XX

Zayn lit the small scrap of paper on fire with the remaining embers, still glowing a passionate red, and let the burning sheet flutter to the ground to be buried in the snow.

Gone, but never forgotten.

AUTHORS NOTE;

OH MY GOSH! I can’t believe it’s done! :’( Felt like I couldn’t drag it on for any longer, you know? When there’s an ending... Take it. I hope you all enjoyed this story, and I hope maybe just maybe, you learned that there are things to be said for just about… Everything.