Dirty Laundry

Eleven.

Ever since that night I've been in the giddiest of moods. This huge, stupid, goofy, face splitting grin has been on my face since I woke up in Niall's arms almost two weeks ago.

Niall and I had fallen into a pattern, I guess you could call it, it wasn't so much a pattern as it was something that became normal. Niall would just stop by whenever he was bored or just felt like it. He would hang out in my room or drag me upstairs when his roommate was out. We would hang out on his futon and watch Netflix, play video games (really just Niall playing and laughing at how I never know what I'm doing), Niall playing his guitar, doing homework or trying to anyway. We would go eat, take naps and just be with each other. 

We hadn't really done anything more than the few heated make-outs. We also hadn't really talked about what it was we were doing exactly either. I wasn't particularly concerned since we really didn't spend that much time apart and we never hid anything from anyone. As far as I was concerned Niall and I were together, no labels or anything official but just an unspoken agreement.

So when Niall's head peaks around my door I'm not that surprised to see him.

"Okay so I think I've really got it this time" he says without even saying hello, coming in and pulling my desk chair around so he's facing me while I sit on my bed with his guitar on his knee.

"Hi Ni, yeah you can come in I'm not busy..." I say mocking him

"Hi" he says looking up from his guitar, standing up and leaning over and kissing me on the cheek, smiling so big that I can't even bring myself to continue mocking him.

Niall sits back down and starts playing the tune he's been working with since I met him. That slow strum of his guitar that has become so familiar to me but, this time, he speeds it up as he goes and adds in some tapping on the wood of the guitar. I have to agree with him, he's got it this time.

Once he's done he looks up at me but he barely has time to see the look on my face because I'm off my bed and tackling him in a hug.

"So I take it you like it?" he says laughing and puling away from the hug to move his guitar.

"Ni, I love it! What made you change it like that?" I ask

"I don't know, I was just tired of the same slow pace and I had a huge coffee this morning so I'm kinda hyper and it just happened, it all clicked." He says a mile a minute and, yeah, he's definitely hyper.

"It's really good Ni. Are you gonna do anything else with it? Have you ever written lyrics?" 

"I've never been a writer. I'm not even good at essays for school; I'm not even good a speaking sometimes. I'd love to have a real, whole song, but I don't know if I can?" he says sounding defeated, putting his head down.

"Hey," I say, pulling his face back up to look him in the eye, "You are so talented, way more talented than me, or anyone else I know. I believe in you if you want to try it." I say making sure he knows how sincere I am. "You don't have any sort of deadline, don't rush anything, don't force yourself, it'll come to you."

"You're pretty amazing too you know" he  compliments, tightening his hold around my waist.

"Oh stop, what sort of talent to you think I have?" I ask, laughing because I've never really been able to take compliments well.

Niall doesn't say anything he just gets up from the chair, pulling me with him over to my desk. He turns me around and points at the artwork I have hanging up above my desk. He leans forward holding me form behind with his chin resting up against the side of my head behind my ear. "You don't think that is a talent?! Emily, you can draw, I know you can. I've watched you do your homework and your notebooks are flled with what you probably call pointless doodles but they're far better than doodles. You're really talented."