Letters To Niall (A Niall Horan Short Story) [COMPLETED]

Finding Reenie

Niall's POV

I've arrived after a few hours here in Glasgow. I lowered my hood and placed my wayfarers safely so I don't get mobbed.

I caught a cab and drove towards the nearest hotel. After a few minutes, the cab stopped in front of a tall building. I paid the driver and got out.

I walked inside of the hotel and booked a room for myself. The receptionist hands me the key card as I thank her.

I walked towards the elevator and later on plopped myself at the king sized bed. I might as well, take a rest before going to find Reenie's place.

*After a few hours*

I jumped awake from my sleep, my eyes landing on the digital clock hanging on the window. 4:24 pm.

Wow, I slept for eight hours straight? I must be--*stomach grumbles*--hungry... Oh well, ny stomach already speaks for it.

I stood up and walked towards my bag. I pulled out a white shirt, denim pants, and a red sleeveless hoodie. I walked towards the bathroom and showered for 10 minutes then dried myself with a towel. I slipped on my boxers and clothes before styling my hair up in a quiff. I walked back in my room and slipped on a pair of white socks then my grey supras.

I stuffed my phone in my pocket and wore my black wayfarers then left my hotel room.

Rushing towards the elevator, I pressed the G button then tapped my foot impatiently. The doors opened and I walked out of the building.

I was holding an envelope, the last letter Reenie sent me. I caught a cab and showed him the address. He nods and started driving. My phone suddenly rang and I looked to see it's Liam.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Niall, where are you?!" Liam asks in a fatherly tone. Shit, I forgot to tell them.

"I'm in Glasgow. Sorry, I didn't told you. I was kind of in a rush." I said sheepishly.

"What are you doing in Glasgow?" He asks.

"Ask Zayn. He knows why. I'll call you later. Bye." Without letting him say anything, I hung up and stuffed my phone back to my pocket. I sat back at the car seat, fidgeting impatiently with the letter.

"Looking for someone, son?" the driver asked. I looked at him. He was in mid-forties, had grayish black hair, and blue eyes.

"Yeah," I said with a small weak smile.

"She looks special. In love?" He asks. I looked at him shock. Was I that obvious? He chuckles at my reaction and I blushed slightly.

"Don't worry, kid. She's one lucky girl." He says and I grinned.