Something New 2 - Niall Horan

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c a r a

I stood, trembling, at the pristine white door with an intricate semi-circle of decorative glass and steel at the top, too far from the handle to be unsafe in case of a robbery. I inhaled. Not casually, although that was what I was aiming for. No, it was erratic, irrational, I'm-breathing-too-fast-to-be-healthy respiration. I knew I was probably going to make a fool out of myself. I knew for a fact that Niall would make my life a living hell for what I did, but I should be happy that he didn't scream at me and tell me to piss off when I called him in the cab. I should be thankful, because beggars can't be choosers. I love my Noah, and I love my Niall.

The grocery bags swayed in my sweaty palms, my cases leant against my knee and calf as I tried not to topple down the steps. I had to regulate my breathing in order to do this anywhere close to right.

In, out. In, out. Everything will be okay if you just breathe. Or that's what I told myself, anyways.

I clenched my eyes shut, taking one last stabilizing breath, before knocking thrice on the painted metal, and, in the extra second that it took for Maura to reach the door, desperately searched for my bearings. They were nowhere to be found until the last instant. As the door creaked open I was finally able to see straight, or as straight as my usually wavering vision has been these days.

"Cara!" she exclaimed, grinning wide. Maura's one of those people who has one of those beautiful, infectious smiles that spread no matter how nervous or upset you are. She shines and glows, and I can't help but wish she was my mum. Niall has the same aura about him, as he bounces a child in his arms behind her, his bright eyes focused only upon the bundle of joy giggling in his arms.

Maura's smile was so contagious, I found myself nearly grinning already. Not even Niall's presence could bring me down.

You're lying, my innermost thoughts taunted wickedly, enjoying my attempts to push away it's words. You care. It bothers you. It hurts. It hurts because you know how much you fucked up.

I knew, deep inside, that it's jeers were completely correct. I just refused to admit it. I knew that I screwed up but I also knew of no simple way of fixing it. I didn't expect it to be simple, however; I knew it would take months. But I needed Niall back. He was my everything.

I shed my coat, looping the twist of fabric around the mahogany coat rack against the warm brown wall perpendicular to the door.

Niall completely ignored me as I lugged my baggage and the groceries inside, very unlike his cheerful mum. She chattered about a book club she joined, and truly how much gossip goes down during meetings. We unpacked, storing the diapers and Elave baby lotion in the cupboard under the polished wood counter in the main floor bathroom. Maura cradled the white-and-blue sugar sack as Santa Claus would his plump belly; hands at the belt, supporting the sweet weight above them.

I stopped to admire Maura's home decoration sense; she seemed to like everything in a room to be colour-themed. The theme for this washroom was clean and white. The pearly porcelain toilet had a fuzzy white toilet seat cover, the ivory bathtub was lined with shining white tiles, a white shower curtain was pulled halfway across the metal beam, and even the cupboards were made of alabaster wood. It seemed the only things in this restroom that weren't void of colour was the shiny caramel countertop and the painting hanging above the toilet: a black-framed, white-lined tan seashell on white tropics sand.

I made a mental note to compliment Ms. Gallagher--Ohmygosh, that was her last name--on her home skills.

I was terrified of what Niall was going to say once we were alone.

I remember, on that first flight to Mullingar many months ago, thinking to myself how surprised--and happy--I was that Niall had proved my original suspicions wrong. Because yes, when I first consented to being his girlfriend, I had assumed right off the bat that he would royally fuck up--considering the fact that I was his first actual relationship rather than hooking up at parties and clubs for a little somethin'-somethin'. I was so absolutely sure that the end of our relationship would be his fault. And then, by the time we were on our trip to Mullingar for his birthday, I was even more sure that we would never separate. I mean, why would we? The pair of us were deeply in love. And then we had Noah and life was perfect. Everything was in it's place and nothing could be better.