Shattered [Niall Horan]

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

// Niall

Rising up from the arm-chair, I strolled towards the wooden counter in my hotel room, plugging the electrical kettle in, as my phone remained gripped between my left ear and shoulder.

"I miss you too much," Her whining wafted through the phone, causing a smile to be pulled at my lips, as I reminded myself of getting to see her so soon, that one month of being without her having finally approached its end.

"Just one more day and I'll be with you," I reassured, fumbling through the various sealed teabags placed inside the wooden container, finally settling on Earl Grey.

"We can't wait to see you," She sighed.

"Tell my little one, daddy missed his baby girl a hell lot and he loves her,"

"You mean boy," She rectified me.

"Nope, I mean girl," I declared, adamantly. "Hey so, has she still not poked you yet?" I asked, inquisitively.

"Ni, you've asked me this like, a million times in the last one month! Babies don't kick until at least 4 months!" She chortled.

"Yeah, I'm just curious, okay?" I said, defensively, rolling my eyes at her and then realising she couldn't see me.

"By the way, what's all that sound? Where are you?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm in the bus; came shopping for some essentials. Kayla's not home, so I got bored and–" I didn't let her finish. Concern rushed through me as the thought of her being alone struck me.

"Alone?! Cath, how many times have I told you, don't go anywhere alone! Why don't you listen to me?!"

"Niall, relax! I ran out of milk this morning and I have this new found love for churros since the last few weeks; I just needed to have it. And Kayla's at work. What was I supposed to do? Sit home, useless?" She grunted, annoyance clear in her tone.

I realised I had over-reacted. "I'm sorry baby," I sighed. "And well, not my fault that you're incredibly careless, you can't deny that Cathy! You have me worried about you all the time here," I teased.

"Not that I can't come shopping by myself Ni! Oh oops, my bag fell down, ugh, why am I so clumsy? Getting off the bus with 2 million shopping bags in your hands -- it's hard you know," She complained, dishing out all the words at once.

"I love you," I chuckled, the feeling bubbling through me consisting of equal amounts of bliss and impatience over getting to see her being her adorably clumsy self, not in front of some stupid phone or laptop screen, but my very own eyes.