thirteen

72 4 2
                                    

posting in celebration of my King's birthday, and it happened to be the thirteenth chapter too! i don't know what he's going to do for his birthday, so this is totally my imagination, but i hope he has a good one. my fifth year of celebrating his birthday. je' taime, mon chéri!

"Niall, you're insane!" Fleur insisted, looking right at him through the laptop screen. "Benjamin sat next to me on the plane, that's all."

His expression hardens, eyes narrowing. His face was red with anger - one of his many traits that she found nothing short of adorable - as he struggled to find a response. "There's something that I don't know, Flo. I can tell. It wouldn't be blowing up my Twitter mentions otherwise."

Fleur looks at him with a hint of guilt, knowing how he'd get when she told him about this boy of the past. Exhaling a breath, she spoke, "Benjamin's my ex, Niall. From college. That's why everyone's making a big deal out of it."

"And you didn't tell me about it?"

"Niall! Don't be a child. I didn't think of it at all, it wasn't a big deal to me. How you're behaving now is exactly why I didn't tell you," Fleur retorts, brushing her hair from her eyes. "You get envious so easily."

"I don't," He mutters, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. "Just don't like other guys touchin' what's mine." She laughs shyly, her cheeks tinted a shade of rose-red. "People get scared of the ring, Ben thought I was engaged."

They both smile at the settled misunderstanding, putting their faith in the trusted bond shared between them. It seemed surreal to Fleur, as she watched him shout at the television screen while watching a football game that she'd never understand, that she could have someone like Niall. He wasn't really her first choice, she did have her eye on that boy with shaggy brown hair in her class that seemed to always sit right next to her in the lecture theatre. He had tattoos, piercings in places where she didn't even feel were safe, wore clothing with holes and all, but he was her supposed 'type'. He was Benjamin, who later on broke up with Fleur after they took up different courses.

"What're you doing?" He'd ask her, looking back occasionally to the laptop on his lap when he bothered taking his eyes off the television screen. "Nothing much. Helping Chelle file some papers and hearing you shout at the referee, not too bad," Fleur would then reply, giggling dreamily at him. Niall would then make use of the situation to crack a joke, no matter how silly or irrelevant. Fleur's laugh - God, her laughter - was the best thing he could listen to. In his eyes, she could do no wrong. To her.. it was still a work-in-progress.

She couldn't help but feel small when yet another notification appeared on her screen, telling her that the very man who sat before his laptop had gone out once again. Fleur was always concerned about his health - it was that chest infection when she first warned him to tone it down, but he didn't really see the need to.

"Niall," She attempted to get his attention, and surprisingly succeeded. "Did you go out again last night?"

"Yeah, sure did," He says nonchalantly, and she suddenly felt a rush of anger that she couldn't comprehend. "Babe, when will you ever just take a break for once? I fly out to see you with Rochelle's help to make sure you're alright, but once I leave you get on with doing this again? Work sucks. Okay? People say I'm climbing the corporate ladder with boosts from Rochelle, that I want attention because I'm with you. Don't you know how annoying it gets? And now you just won't take my advice, Niall!"

"Sophia's fine with Liam going out," He states, hair sticking up haphazardly as he ran his fingers through it again. "That's because she's with him! Niall James Horan, don't you dare compare us to anyone else for a split fucking second. It's different. Plus, Soph's such a confident girl who gets along with all the crew members. I don't even get that privelege, okay? I have a job. I can't take months off to tour with you. I need to feed myself, nobody else will. You can do what you love for a living, I can't."

dust; n.h.Where stories live. Discover now