Uptown Boy (Narry Storan)

06. Uncle Niall

HS

It has been two weeks since I've gotten my car back from Niall's shop.

And he hasn't left my mind since.

His vivid blue eyes that were burning with so much intensity, his stare could literally pierce right through you. His anger wasn't even directed at me, but even then, I still felt it was my fault, even if this doesn't even have anything to do with me. That's how fierce and... deadly his stare was.

For some reason, I've been dying to know what happened back then, but of course, who am I to ask about such things? Call me a busybody, or whatever, but I just want to know.

I didn't see him at dinner last Saturday night when Liam organised one with some of his other friends and I. According to him, he asked Zayn to call Niall along as well but he just didn't come.  I mean, I could have simply texted him, but I just didn't know what to text him. 'Hey Niall, just wondering, who was that guy that was punching you in the face? You alright?' Yeah no way. And it's not like I can ask him that when I'm face to face with him either, but if I can see him, at least I know he's alright.

And with him flooding my mind the entire time, it's low key driving me nuts. I haven't been able to concentrate in the studio, I've been slacking with my work, I've run out of inspiration and ideas for sketches and designs and I haven't been sleeping well. There's just this thing that's eating away at my gut about this whole thing. And I'm worried. About Niall. I shouldn't be, seeing as we're barely friends. He's just someone whom I find very attractive and just happened to have some fun with one night. That's all. But seeing how his lip got busted, seeing him shouting with so much anger the other night, it just.. Got to me. Somehow.

That is why, for some reason, my body has taken over all rationale thoughts, and I find myself driving down to the car shop. It's currently one thirty on a friday afternoon (it's my lunch break) and this is the first time in a long time that I'm actually stepping out of my studio during lunch. And it's not even for lunch.

I turn into the gate, driving up towards the blue and red container. In broad daylight, this place looks so much better. A lot less spooky.

I manoeuvre through the line of parked, badly damaged cars, before pulling up to the front of the container.

I spot Niall at the corner of the shed, and somehow, I breathe out a sigh of relief. He's currently polishing the hood of a red car. His eyebrows are furrowed as he concentrates on his work, his hair is disheveled, a little more stubble littered across his chin and jaw and his white tank top is stained with black grease.

I give my car a little honk, and his head raises, his eye catching mine.

He raises an eyebrow in confusion, before stopping work on his polishing. He puts the polish machine down on the ground next to him, before he steps out of the shed and walks towards my car.

I climb out of my car as well. The iconic, retro tune of Ricky Martin's Livin' La Vida Loca is blasting throughout the shop, the atmosphere obviously a whole lot livelier compared to the eerie atmosphere the other night.

"Is this what you listen to in your shower?" I ask with a smirk, causing him to chuckle.

"I may or may not dance to this once in awhile." He grins. I wouldn't mind seeing that. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr Styles? Was our servicing not up to your standards? Or are you just here to see me?" He asks with a smug smile. I chuckle softly, shaking my head in amusement.

"I was just wondering if you could check my engine or something for me." I say, my eyes somehow trained and trailing over every detail on his face. His busted lip seems to be healing but there's still a small, fading bruise at the corner of his lips.