That One Night

Chapter 28

NIALL'S POV

Watching Sophia leave was quite painful inside for me. All I saw was her rushing to the car. No goodbye, nothing. Are we even classed as friends anymore? If it weren't for my stupidity, she would still be here. She knows more about me already than anyone else. But why can't she see that I actually do care for her.

Once I see her car drive away, I know that I will probably never see her again in my life. Even though she will be coming to the same university as me, we won't see each other.  know that because her and I have hardly anything in common.

I know that I may seem crazy, but I feel as if her and I are meant to be something. Friends or more, but just her everything is so beautiful. Why can't she see that?

I get back inside with mixed emotions. Anger and sadness. Before I realize how I feel, my fist connects with the wall next to me. I've created a small crack in the wall. Lucky it's strong, otherwise the damage would be incredibly worse. 

Once I've finished looking at the wall, I look down at my knuckles. Red, swollen and bloody. 

I go to the kitchen sink and wash it off. While the clear water gushes onto my knuckles, it turns red at it exits down the drain. I haven't had to do this in ages. I was finally getting the control back into my life.

Or so I thought. 

Once it's cleaned, I bandaged it up and headed to the spare room where Sophia slept. The door is wide open, so I make my way in.

All of the clothes that I gave her so she could choose what she wanted to sleep in where perfectly folded on one side of the bed. The clothes that she did where were also folded up perfectly, but at the other side of the bed. 

She has to make sure that everything is in order and perfect. If you just looked at her would would see that.

Her perfect long brown hair, her perfectly evened out make-up. Things like that in which she has to be perfect at.

I still remember when I bumped into her, and when I first looked at her. I fancied her already, but I know that she doesn't feel the same way about me.

If only I could tell her everything. My past, my future, my life, then maybe, just maybe she would understand what she really means to me. But thanks to my past, her visual on me is completely different than mine on her's.

Wanting to see her face and hear her laugh again would make me believe that I can be a better man, but for now, I'm stuck with myself and my anger issues.