dust; n.h.

nine

FLEUR V.

Time. Tick-tock, tick-tock. We've always known that time was essential - from Cinderella to handing in assignments. Hitting a ball in PE class also involves accurate timing. Time, as we have established, is important. But here I was, sat on my bed, waiting.

I knew that he was busy - and his 'knight-in-shining-armour' bullshit just wasn't cutting it for me. It was two weeks of 'I'm busy' or 'I've got no time'. Being out of a job in an expensive society was difficult. I was barely scraping by every single day. Everyone was vying for a job. Students were snatching up jobs that I would otherwise be applying for. My money was running out, trickling into the country's economy through Tesco and the Underground.

"I'm still jobless. It's been three whole weeks. My calendar is full of red crosses," I complain tirelessly to Rochelle, and her eyebrows furrow. "My department needs an intern, if you're willing. Our previous intern graduated and she doesn't want to stay. The pay is extremely low, though," Rochelle suggests, fingers drumming on my study table. I knew internships in her dad's company were horrible - serving breakfast takeaways to people who had their life on track didn't seem very enticing. However, considering my circumstances and how I would probably be bankrupt without a job soon, I accepted her offer.

"Monday," She grins. "You'll start on Monday."

//

"This is Fleur, she's our new intern and also a close friend of mine. Please give her the due guidance and also don't bully her pretty face," Rochelle introduces me to her subordinates who looked like they couldn't care less - which I didn't blame them for, I was just the person who'd be fetching them coffee.

The first day at work passed in a blur. My legs were about to give in to exhaustion, and I was standing by the entrance of the building waiting for Rochelle. Her lips twitched into a smile as she spotted me, pulling me over to her car. She had a lot of enthusiasm for it being this late in the afternoon with only one lunch break in between.

"So how was day one?" She chirped with a huge grin, only making me groan in frustration. "Niall still hasn't called nor dropped my a text. I know, call me clingy and all, I know he's busy. But it takes five seconds to tell me he's still alive."

It was then that my mind started to wonder if I still mattered to him. If my words ever lingered in his head, if I was even a part of his life. The thing with me was that I lived in constant fear of being removed. I didn't want to be left out from anyone's lives. I wanted to be important, remembered. And there would always be this part of me that constantly reminded myself of how I was depriving myself of life itself. I was living, sure. But I wasn't living life. I was always living in the shadows of my fears and assumptions. I got paranoid with the slightest things, and that was the part that would always sneak into my life and ruin anything I had going for myself. Not to mention the fact that I'd look in the mirror every single day from top-to-toe, with my confidence dropping drastically once my eyes train on my legs. Compared to someone like Rochelle, I felt disgusting. And this was slowly killing me with the knowing fact that I didn't know what to do about it. I hated the way I looked but I had no will to change it because I was 'beautiful' in the eyes of others. That was what hurt the most.

"Fleur, calm down," Rochelle says soothingly, her hands on the steering wheel as the car jerks forward before moving out of the parking lot. "Look, even my driving sucks when you're unhappy."

"You're just a shit fucking driver," I let the insult slip pass my lips, but she doesn't seem to mind. It was an established fact. "Besides, Niall will call. Tonight. Bet you five pounds," She glances over at my over-fidgety self in the passenger seat, providing me with the due reassurance I needed.

My bed was another reassuring factor that I'd be alright, calming my fears and also my heart rate. It was only when there was a slight vibration coming from my purse that I bothered to move a few inches in order to reach for my smartphone.

"Hello?" I greet quietly, slumping back onto the bedframe. "Flo, baby. it's Niall." His words made me heave a sigh of relief, running my hands through the roots of my hair.

"Niall," I managed to breathe out, pulling my knees up to my chest. "How are things over there? You're eating good, aren't you? It isn't cold, right?"

"Yes, yes I am. Don't worry 'bout me, Flo. Of course it isn't cold here, it's summer, silly goat," He chuckles heartily, and I can't help but force an awkward laugh out of my throat. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing. It's all good, I promise. I'm even an intern at Chelle's. It's all good," My voice cracks once I get to my last sentence and I couldn't turn off the tap that seemed to be my fountain of tears. I let everything go, all that was bottled inside of me that I found it hard to breathe for a second without gasping for air. "Fleur, baby.. What's going on?"

"I'm okay," I said to reassure him, but it was really for myself. My mind was in so many different places all at once and it was making me so confused and distraught. I no longer knew what I was crying over - I just did it. "You're not, Fleur Victoria. I may have dropped out but M'not all that stupid."

"I'm just overthinking again," I choke out, pulling my blanket over my body in an attempt to yet again, calm myself. "I'm thinking about everything."

"It's okay to let it go, Flo. Is it about work?" He asks softly. No, you dimwit. It's you. And me. And everything.
"No, Niall. I'm okay. Go for your soundcheck, I'll talk to you later," I would answer, and that was how our daily phone calls would end. Small talk.
I didn't tell him I loved him. He didn't either. It was like we both knew that we didn't feel like talking to each other - It became a chore and obligation. I would probably never be able to get it off my chest, my insecurities and anxiety. It'd probably be bottled in me, save for ugly-crying sessions in the toilet. Alone.

//

I didn't exactly know what to say when he flew me out one fine day to see him. Getting to Indianapolis alone on a whim was exhausting - no sleep before my flight, no sleep on the flight. I wasn't the biggest fan of planes, as you could tell. The tiny seat in the plane with little to no comfort only made me more antsy.

It was only when he held me in his arms so tightly I felt like I couldn't breathe that I could tell myself that all was okay. But it wasn't. It wasn't at all. It was all a lie. You know how a therapist would ask you to close your eyes and imagine yourself situated at a beach, relaxing, waves crashing onto the shore. For me, the camera would zoom out and there'd be dark clouds looming over my head, the sky painted a charcoal black that made my lips tremble in fear. Those were my dreams, at least.

"Did you miss me?" He asks teasingly, and I shake my head, rolling my eyes. "C'mon, Flo.. You did."

Sighing defeatedly, my hands raised in surrender as I assured him, "Fine. Just a little, you cocky prick."

His laughter is low and hearty, pressing a chaste peck on my pale cheek, making it glow a rosy shade of red. I missed having him around me - a total sweetheart when we were in situations like this, alone and in a quiet place. Otherwise, we'd keep our distance, occasionally stealing glances like we were in secondary school.

As much of a throwback as it was, I hated it. Why hide from his closest friends? The media was one thing, but we were keeping it under wraps from the people he spent his everyday life with. It hurt, somehow.

'Maybe it just isn't time," I'd tell myself. And I believed my own stupid little lie.

//

HELLO!
Finally, am I right? But can we just take a minute to appreciate Drag Me Down? I'm a little late but damn.. That song is amazing. I wanted to update on the day itself but I didn't have any inspiration at all. ): Here it is though, hope you liked it!