adolescent. ≫ niall horan au

Chapter 10.

I walked into my room and laid out my t-shirt and SpongeBob fuzzy shorts for bed on the mattress, and trudged into the bathroom for a shower. I had rushed myself into the bathroom so I could see the vision again, hoping it was more vivid than the last one.

I stood bare and moist, with my eyes closed.

Nothing.

"Come on, Florence. You've done it before..the shampoo!" I realized grabbing the bottle desperately.

The flowers brought a vision of a white woman with a pretty smile, brown eyes, and dark hair pinned up in a bun. She was wearing one of those hospital robes, I've already concluded that it was after I was born, and she was looking at me.

I heard her say: "I want to hold you, but I can't."
I wanted to say, "Why?" but she started crying.
Don't cry. Please don't cry.

"I'm sorry baby, I just.." She sniffed. "I have to let you go. I can't keep you. Not with.."
She blurred out of sight. I realized that I, too, was crying like an infant.
Not with who? Don't go please, mommy..

I turned off the shower head and drained the excess water out of my hair. I changed into my pjs and just in time, Niall knocked on my door.

"Hey," he started. "Yer ready? Ready fer story time?" I nodded. Niall promised me a lecture about his birthplace after attempting to convince me that it's amazing over there. He crept beside me in the bed and whispered the story into my ear. He pulled me in a spooning position, making an settling groan when he plopped onto the bed.

"Well as far as I could remember, there was a lot of cattle-trading, before 2003, that's when it ended. I liked seeing the cows with splotches of brown and black on their white undercoats, and the bulls with the giant horns. But soon enough, the cows and the bulls subtracted from Mullingar very fast.

Lots of grass lands and vast lakes; a pretty clear blue stretching as far as I could look, with the aromas of fresh spring and grass dew, with pine sap and variations of trees that I could walk through. In the mornings, there would be food, and I mean lots of it, and I'd watch my dad read the Mullingar Adviser, a newspaper that he'd lay beside his coffee and with his glasses on, he'd squint and read, taking small sips. When he'd find somethin' interestin' in tha paper, he would say it out loud for us all to hear; my mom, Gregg and I. It's a very small town, and it is one of those places where everyone know each other, from house to house, block to block, and road to road. It also means people are very nosy, and word gets around quickly."

I chuckled. His thick, long eyelashes tickled the dipped area around my tearduct, tickling my eye with butterfly kisses. Without a care, the senselessness of our warm embrace lead to the sense of wrong direction in the timing of our blinking, nearly clasping our lashes together.
He smelt fresh, explaining that he just got out of the shower; and he's warm and his arm skin was very hydrated.

"And the park was the hang out. Like legit. We had no where else to go, it was either there or we'd take a walk to as far as our parents would let us. Or the front yard, around my parking lot. My friends and I would always have laughs and chat about whatever comes to mind, even if it's completely insane. I'd dance like a mad man... Man, those were times." He deep voice vibrated on my left eardrum.

"And the museum was quite interesting with its cathedral, tall and structural, made a traditional vibe during walks to school, which I'll think you'll enjoy. You like those facts and info and history stuff, right?" I agreed, and in response, I felt him smile. "I thought so. It's so huge. And even from there, when id come home, if I'm lucky, Irish stew would be waiting for me on the table with everyone else just chatting. It was a down time for me.
At school, I was made fun of for my grades, and my attendance, which really wasn't a big whoop to me. It was easy! As of then, compared to as of now, nobody really minded me, until I became 'famous'. Im not really into the constant attention it gives me. It's scary how every single move I make affects tabloids everyday. How they don't even know about you yet is completely insane. But I don't care. I remember Mullingar, my home, the place I love. That's all that matters."

"I liked that story." I said after a 30 second silence. He kissed my temple lightly. My voice stilt with rasp and congestion.

"Me too. Turned out way better than I thought. But the story isn't over yet." His voice was mellowed that I almost couldn't understand what he was saying.

"What are you talking about?" I've never really been the one to ask questions, but I had to, he's really a confusing character.

"Us living there in the future. Would you like that? It makes sense that if One Direction splits, well live there in a house. And a wife. And maybe, brothers and sisters for you!" I honestly loved his family dreams and expectations, it made me feel safe and also makes me think that I could actually be a part of a family! My heart warms tremendously. "And I can't wait for you to meet me family, especially Theo. He's my nephew." He explained. "He's like 6 months old...not your age, but he's fun to play with. And he's cute and soft, and he's a good baby. I think you'll like him. Do you like babies?"

"I've never been near a baby."

"I'll show ya. There's nothing to it."

"Yeah, except responsibility, a gentle touch, experience."I emphasized. I turned to look into his blue eyes, which is becomes more of a light, solid-ish color when he's tired.

"Nah, he likes everyone. He's one of those babies. More calm." He yawned by my ear. "Well, I gotta go to bed. Night Flo." Niall kissed my cheek and strolled out of the room, closing the door.

"I'll see you in the morn." To be honest, I didn't want him to leave me alone. His warmth left a pool in my bed and I snuggled up in it. I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

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The next morning, I slowly stepped down the stairs and sat at the couch, a place that I've never experienced in the house, so I got comfortable. I laid with my back on the cushion, daydreaming about Mullingar. I have to admit, it sounds like a pretty place to live.

I closed my eyes and thought about vast lakes and parks, with a big cathedral museum, and the abundance of cattle roaming in the plains where the greenest grass grows.

And the people. The kind-looking Irish natives, with pale skin, thick accents to when they speak to me I won't understand, but I'll smile anyways. And they love to drink. Guinness, Blue Ribbon, etc. any type of beer to be exact; then they come home, happy as can be, but pissed drunk. But that might not be true; I might be stereotyping-Am I stereotyping? -2∞+↑

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