dust; n.h.

fifteen

FLEUR V.

now i'm one step closer to being two steps far from you

I missed him. There was no denying that longing for his touch that floating around in my mind every so often, the scent of his cologne on that stupid grey sweater he always wore faded and gone with the days that slipped through my fingertips. He always called, dropping me texts ever so often. He'd always be met with that voicemail we'd set on the night of his birthday, my irritating giggle and his drunken laughter louder than anything else meant to be said.

It felt as if I was cutting myself off from all that I found familiar. It took a month for Harry's voice to resonate once again in my ears, the deep tone of his voice speaking of Rochelle in dire straits - "Look, I know you're in a bit of a fix here, but she might not pull through. She needs you here, Flo."

Somehow or rather the nickname 'Flo' had disappeared from my grasp as the only person who'd bothered giving me a nickname was Niall. Undoubtedly, my heart sank at the thought of Rochelle's struggle - she hated the hospital, needles and the lights that always seemed too bright.

"We'll help you get a ticket home and everything," Harry pleads, and the commotion in the background was loud enough for me to make out the distinct sound of others' voices. "Please just come over, Flo. We'll arrange everything. Someone will pick you up tomorrow."

He didn't need to ask. He would have known my answer to his request - I never denied anything to do with Rochelle. They somehow always managed to come between my plans, interrupting whatever I had to do. But with however much Rochelle had given me, it was only right to return.

* * *

The van that I sat in as it cruised along the highway felt empty. Reminiscing about the sights and memories that could have been made, I succumbed to the realisation that I was weak enough to let them win. How did I let them command me at their will and move me with their fingertips over to Dublin? The sight of the hospital building made me sigh in relief as I repeated the ward number in my head.

Shuffling around the hallways, I turned the doorknob, making my way in to see the nurse standing by her bed, checking her blood pressure. Offering her a smile, I sat by the couch against the window, looking outside, at the ceiling, on the floor - anywhere but where our eyes would meet.

"Fleur," My name was called with the softest of voices, a weak smile plastered on her face. With the slightest bit of reluctance I got up and held her hand, something I always did with my dad. To me, it represented strength in unity, and I could distinctly feel the tears welling in my eyes as my vision began to cloud over. "I'm sorry, Chelle. I was worried when you stopped calling me for a whole week," Her head shakes, brows furrowing at my response. "No need to be sorry."

Twelve in the morning was when Harry sauntered into the room, and I scrambled to my feet. My head was spinning and all I wanted to do was have a good sleep. "Hey Flo, you made it," He whispers, glancing over to Rochelle, asleep as the machine beeped, keeping her alive. His hug was quick and showed his lack of sleep as well. "Sorry if this isn't a grand welcome, the rest went to some club that Niall recommended. Let's get back to the hotel and get some rest, yeah?"

Heaving a sigh of disappointment as the realisation of Niall's constant partying flooded back into my head. I never really liked it, per se, I preferred staying home, away from the loud music that seemed to rack my body with it's noise.

* * *

"Fuck off, Louis," He'd laugh at his bandmate's warning, "She's in Japan, probably fucking some other guy. She said she's never coming back, idiot."

"Thank you," Fleur's whisper in the middle of the hallway as Harry unlocked the door for her was caught on by Niall, his eyes although half sober, unable to fathom any actions or words as he stared at Louis. His feet picked up speed as he stood in front of the oak door, pounding on it and sending soundwaves throughout the building. It was only when the door clicked open and her small, pale figure stood before him that the pounding in his chest was gone, body almost sober at the clear sight of his lost lover in front of him.

"Flo," He breathes out, iced-over blue eyes looking at her as she gazed at her toes. Maybe it was that little bit of alcohol running through his veins, but Niall pushes her into the room with the same desire he would have had a month ago, letting her legs wrap around his torso and her arms around his neck, his embrace seemingly the most warming thing she could ever come to discover. The way his palms would rub her back and his lips always telling her how beautiful she was inside out. She would've hated to admit it, but she loved it.

"Did you have to fuckin' wear that shirt- I missed you, Jesus. I missed you so much," His face in the crook of his neck as he struggled to get the words out, but she could smell the perfume on his shirt. And maybe she did wear his Bronx shirt to provoke him, but she knew that it wasn't his scent that he always wore but rather one that someone else had left on him. She heard his remarks about how she would've been 'fucking another guy' in the time that she left and it hurt to know that he thought so lowly of her. But she kept it all in.

Her disappointment disappeared as his hungry stare burned into her skin, lips on her neck where he knew she'd succumb to his sweet nothings. Her Guns n' Roses shirt peeled off her back and skinny jeans down her waist, undone came the buttons on his white button-up and the ones on his jeans. She'd noticed how his biceps had visibly changed, contoured to perfection as he knew exactly how to please her. Fleur liked shy guys and strayed away from those with big arms and toned bodies - her one-too-many experiences with them made her attracted to someone who read a book rather than one who bought her a drink. But evidently, things were different when she wasn't sober.

"You've been drinking, haven't you?" Her small hands grab at his wrists, knowing that he'd done this with someone else maybe an hour before. His grin falters and so does his words. He couldn't slip past the cracks and tell her a lie, the scratches on his back and the perfume that lingered on his skin told a different story. "Niall.. I- We were done. Why are we even doing this? Get out of my room. Please."

"She meant nothing to me, I swear on m'life. She was just a rebound!" He retaliates, fingers lacing forcefully into hers. "A rebound? She was around in the three months too? Are you kidding me, Niall?" She screams, twisting her hands out of his grip, the backs of them red from struggling. The familiar stinging of tears welling up in her eyes returned as she nervously rose her palm to his face, giving him a harsh slap across his cheek. His head hung in silence as he knew exactly what he did wrong. He knew he messed up. And cheaters never win.

"Niall- I don't know what to say. I don't. I told you, I know your career is your life. And I'll stay out of it, so you can stop thinking that we have another chance. We don't."

And in this moment, she knows she has to let it go.