Unloved (Leafycynical)

3

When Niall showed up, I walked downstairs and let him in. Although I did make an effort to compose myself before beforehand, it was no use; my breath was still hitching uncontrollably, accompanied by persistant, violent shaking.

"Hey," he greeted. His voice and demeanor were sort of awkward, but then again, what could I expect?

"Hi," I whispered. He moved to the couch, so I tagged along the few steps and sat down next to him.

"So, what's up?" he asked, and it was then that I remembered just how soothing his voice really was in person.

"I-I don't know. I guess I just called because I wanted to see you. I know we don't know each other too well, and that you probably don't care, but I...I really just wanted to be able to say goodbye to someone, and well...you're the only one I could think of," I rambled, then squeaked out, "I'm sorry."

"Calvin," he addressed, which forced me to look him in the eyes for once, "it isn't a problem. I'm actually quite glad you called, and...flattered you thought of me. Don't think I don't care. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something really happened, especially knowing I had been around you but hadn't picked up on it. Now tell me, mate, what has got you so down?"