The Horan Boy (Sequel to The Whitlock Girl)

Boquet

"Oooh! C'mon Andrew!" Onya said, tugging my hand as she dragged me towards a artist painting pictures on the sidewalk.

Chuckling, I followed along, "Onz, what are you doing?" I questioned.

She pushed my up to the artist, who I could know see was a young guy, maybe around twenty five, with a handlebar mustache, mega ripped, and covered in paint splatters. He was pretty friendly too, unlike most people in new york, when we came up. 

"Hello Sir and Lady. What can I do for yah?" It was obvious what he was doing, painting portraits for passerby's.

"How much for a painting?" 

"Thirty-five for a single person, fifty for two people. And for a family of four? Only seventy-five! That's half the price, for this week only, since Father's day is coming up and all."

Nodding, I pulled a fifty from my wallet and handed it over, watching the guy carefully as he shoved it into his pocket. If this was a scam, what a shame it would have been to have wasted fifty dollars. I sat down next to Onya on the tiny bench that was provided. We were shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip, and leg to leg.  

Onya sighed, resting her head on my shoulder, "Andrew, do you think my father would even notice if I cooked his fathers day meal?" Ouch, that was a tough question to answer, but I knew I had it in me.

"Well, I'd say since your Father and mine are friends, probably not. Even if you force fed him, screaming at him, he wouldn't even notice." I heard her faintly sigh once more, and I looked down at her. She was sad, obviously. I smiled, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet, dragging her away from the small bench we occupied.

I heard the man yells something about the painting behind me, but I didn't care, I just yanked Onya along behind me. She kept saying things like slow down before her arm falls off, but I didn't listen. I just wanted to remind her there were other things in this world that could make her happy other than her Father's attention. Like me, I could make her happy. After all, what were friends for?

I stopped at the first flower stall I saw, and looked over to Onya. She was breathing hard. trying to catch her breath. Geez, if only two blocks did that, I'd hate to see her run a mile with me. 

Onya looked up at me, then over at the flowers, "Uh, Andrew?"

"Pick whichever ones you want," I shrugged. She smiled delicately, which made me grin like an idiot. I watched as she carefully picked and prodded through the flowers until she came back with a boquet of vibrant colored petals. Laughing lightly, we walked over to the woman selling them, and I paid the price she asked.

As she walked away, Onya smelling them, she nudged my arm, "Thanks for the flowers. I guess it makes up for almost ripping my arms off jerk." 

Chuckling, I nudged her back, "Watch the language missy, this jerk might actually rip off your arm if you make me mad."

Onya threw her head back and let out a hearty laugh, "Like you'd do that, you'd miss my hugs too much."

I sighed, it was true.

A/N: So yeah. I haven't updated  in like forevs. You're allowed to hate me, but thats whatevs. Anyways, here's something small i wrote up so you didn't think I completely disappeared!