Happy (belated) No Control Day! Woot. So proud of all of us and the boys. Two awards, Niall got grabbed by Harry, #OhNoLiam... Great times. x
andrea
:: harold :: Rayna and I are home. See you x
:: drea :: be there in twenty
The traffic was excruciatingly slow for a Tuesday morning, but I didn't expect anything else. Mr. Horan had given me the day off after discovering that Emily had passed via the realm of the internet, offering his condolences that probably meant nothing to him. We'd scattered her ashes late last night, and Harry thought it was time to decide what to do with her things.
Once I slipped into our childhood home, I could hear the faint mumbling of Father remarking how much Emily resembled our mother. She did. And maybe it was fate, but they passed in the same manner. I quietly made my way into the living room, sitting down next to Rayna.
"Andrea," She greets me with a small smile. "We were looking through some photos. Join us." The polaroids spread out across the coffee table, some pictures developed from an old film camera. I picked one up, taking a good look at it.
It was from three years ago. Emily and her ex-boyfriend, I believe his name was Nick. Christmas, under the mistletoe, when she'd forced me to snap a picture of them. They weren't ready though, but their mouths were wide open with that contagious laughter I couldn't seem to forget. It was an adorable picture for a sixteen-year-old couple to have, anyway. She'd kept it all these years.
The next one was from a long while back, when Emily had this horrid haircut that included those bangs which covered her eyebrows. We were at the beach, Harry was running towards the sea, the waves crashing against his knees while Emily and I built our sandcastle, which looked more like a mountain.
The last birthday we spent with our mother was Harry's. His twentieth. It was a beautiful family portrait. My father's arm wrapped around my mother's waist, Emily, Harry and I sitting in a row, shoulders pressing into each others'. Rayna was behind the camera, counting to three but pressed the button down on two. The end result was a laughing Emily, unable to keep still while our grins were stretched on our faces.
Then I saw one, with only two people in the frame. Emily and a blonde-haired lad, his polo shirt stained with some sauce. His teeth were a little crooked, hair side-swept, a head taller than Emily. Undoubtedly, Niall. I put that one into my bag, planning on giving it to him the next day at work.
"Just keep all the pictures," I suggested, placing them back into the box. "I think she'd want that." They nodded, mirroring my actions slowly. Scanning over every single picture without fail. They were all memories, fond memories of Emily's. It was difficult to come to a closure that she wasn't around, that she wasn't just on a school trip.
* * *
"Good morning, Mr. Horan," I said, pulling out the picture from my bag. "We found this yesterday. I thought you might want to keep it." He takes it, inspecting the photo, so tiny in comparison with his large hands. His eyes turned glassy, but he blinked the tears away. It was too early to be shedding tears. He only nods, before keeping the picture in his pocket.
"I'm sorry for your family's loss, Andrea. Emily was a sweet girl," His lips tug upwards, and my heart warms with his words. "Oh, right. I'm sorry I have to keep troubling you, but could you help with Regine again? It's such a trouble, but we don't trust any teenager to take care of a four-year-old."
"No problem. Tonight?" I ask, and Niall nods. "More court proceedings. Hopefully the last. Thank you so much for your help, Drea. We owe you one." He speaks as if his wife would ever repay me, but I didn't mind. I loved Regine -- It was refreshing being around someone with such a pure mindset.
"Now, get back to work."
* * *
The oreo cookies that Niall'd bought for Regine stayed on the kitchen counter, and I'd thought of a plan. "Regine, what do you think of filling these with toothpaste for daddy?" Her eyes lit up in excitement. A prank on her own father. Besides, I could tell she was bored by the movie.
She peeled the filling off the cookie and popped it into her mouth before handing the plain cookie to me. Carefully, I squeezed the toothpaste out onto it, making it look as genuine as possible. It smelt strongly of mint, but it was pretty good-looking.
Niall threw the keys onto the coffee table once he got home, pulling off his jacket. With that eager smile of hers, Regine immediately picked up the bowl of oreos, holding them up to Niall.
"Good evening, baby girl," He laughs, poking her nose. She cringes at the name, preferring the term 'big girl', but shoves the bowl into his hands anyway. "Have one. We're full," She looks at me, and I nod in reassurance from my position on the sofa. He takes it without hesitation, wolfing the whole damn thing down in five seconds flat. His nose scrunches, and my lips twitch. An evillish grin dominates my features and I raise the toothpaste tube up into view, waving it around.
Regine bursts into a fit of giggles, and Niall simply laughs it off. "You mischievous girl. I'll exact my revenge one day, baby girl. Now go to bed, it's getting late. I'll tuck you in."
"I want Andrea to tuck me in," She yawns sleepily, and Niall smiles at me. "Guess you should do that then. Good night princess." He kisses her cheek, watching as I led her upstairs into her bedroom. Just before I turned off the lights, her tiny voice says, "I think you're a great mummy." My cheeks were tinted a rosy shade of red, and I strongly believe that you could see it in the dark. I smiled, pulling the blanket over her stomach before leaving the room.
"Good work, Drea," Niall whispers, making me jump. He probably saw the entire thing. Oh god, at least it would spare me the explanation of what happened since he saw it himself. I shake my head shyly, and he grabs my wrists. His eyes withheld the ocean, and they pierced through my skull. The rough pads of his fingers lifted my chin, and he edges his face closer to mine. Our lips connect with the taste of mint and cookies, causing a smile to unknowingly appear on my face.
His brows suddenly furrow, and he takes a few steps back. "You need to leave. I'm sorry." I oblige, but my mind was an utterly confused mess. Why? It was always like this. Constantly. I would never understand him, he was a complex web of intersecting ground rules and problems yet to be solved. Yet, he was intriguing. Mysterious. He was a mystery within himself.
