I Like the Way You Smile. [ON HOLD]

The Start of Our Story.

<The Start of Our Story>

On that much dreaded day, I felt like crying as I approached the gate in the airport. And, as my best friend hugged me, tears started to fall from my eyes. Just the sight of his dark hair and almost-clear, blue eyes comforted me.

At that point, my mixed blonde hair was short, frizzy and unruly while my green eyes were hidden beneath glasses that were thick and black. It was the awkward stage that every girl goes through in her preteens, since I was an early bloomer, I was only half eleven, twelve at the time of my departure from Ireland.

That was nearly five years ago. This summer, July the nineteenth to be exact, will be the anniversary. Five long years since I moved to Barcelona with Mum, both of us speak fluent Spanish, but somehow manage to maintain our Irish roots when we would speak English around the house.

I went through schooling at an All-English-Speaking school in Barcelona while Mum worked the job she was sent here to do, to teach English to smaller children. I finished my schooling about a half year ago, and have since taken up to helping with my mum's job, enjoying it so much.She was told by the people in Ireland that her job over here was finished, and that she was welcome in Ireland anytime.

I've only seen him in person once since I left Ireland five years ago. At first, I wasn't sure it was him. Surrounded by thousands of screaming teenage girls, bleach blonde hair, at first glance, he wasn't the guy I left in Ireland five years ago. But when I took a second glance, I saw his almost-clear, blue eyes; the same crooked, goofy smile and knew he was my best friend, the 'Leprechaun' that I last saw four years ago at the airport.

I saw the boy who was always strumming on a guitar, humming tunes in our town in the Midlands of Ireland.

I saw the boy that gave me his lucky guitar pick the day I left and told me that, when I saw him again, he would teach me to play.

I saw my best friend.

I saw my next-door neighbor whose house I went to in the dead of night because I couldn't stand my mother’s cries.

I saw the boy that dried my tears when I cried over my father.

I saw the boy that could make me laugh at the stupidest things. Without fail.

I saw the boy that never left my mind for a moment in the past four years.

I didn't see the celebrity he is, but the boy he was.

I saw the charming, friendly, funny Niall Horan.

A/N: Just a little teaser for what's to come. I love my baby penguins and I really hope you guys enjoy this. OHHH! And I'm not from England or Ireland or Europe in general. But I know a few slang terms, but not fluently or anything. So it's be a massie help to me if you just bore with me. Thanks and review. Pretty pretty please!