hazy || niall horan

6. hesitant maybes

ANNOUNCEMENT: I HAVE CHANGED THE NAME OF THIS STORY AND I APOLOGIZE BUT I FEEL LIKE I DON'T REALLY CARE FOR THE TITLE "SELFLESS" ANY MORE.

Niall walks to the library determined to find that girl and give her a piece of his mind. Everyone had notions about his life but he certainly wasn't going to let her judge him so quickly. She didn't know him, she couldn't label him.

His feet storm lightly on the pavement as he crosses the opening of the library and through the sliding doors.

What was he doing?

Was he really going to yell at a girl he'd only talked to a handful of times?

His feet slow to a brisk walk as he becomes accustomed to the vibe in the room. It made his rage dissipate instantly. He didn't even know if the girl was still at the library, he just assumed that she would be. Then again, she seemed too rushed around this time yesterday and so maybe she had already left in a haste.

He had never been impulsive when it came to women; he always meticulously thought out his plan to seduce a woman and what that might entail.

He figured once he knew they were interested, he had to figure out how to you know, progress without them seeing the bruises that littered his ribs and stomach. It became a smooth dance of control as he led their hands to the parts of his skin that were healing and away from the fresh blue and purple imprints. He never had to worry about them actually seeing them because the lights were always off. He'd never turned the lights on during sex.

But with this girl, this brown haired mousy girl, he forgot about his planning. She made him forget about his father's wrath and about the pain he endured mentally and physically and he'd only talked to her officially, once. Perhaps this was because she didn't try to know him like everyone else did. Maybe it was because her blue eyes seemed to illicit a pain that he could relate to.

Nevertheless, his feet instinctively led him to the joint cubicle that the girl was usually in.

The girl is there, she is sitting there with her head in her hands and her book in between the crooks of her elbows. She looks tense, even from where Niall was standing, and a part of him-albeit a small part-wants to rub the tension out of her shoulders; he stays put, watching her read.

Aoife can smell his expensive cologne before she hears or sees him. She holds in the sigh she so desperately wants to let out. A part of her-albeit a small part- wants to stare at Niall, to stare at his beauty until it makes him uncomfortable; she continues to read though, and pretends he isn't looking at her.

After a while though, his staring becomes a little eery and Aoife just wants to get him out of her head and out of her space.

"Are you going to speak to me or are you going to sit there and stare all day," is the eloquent question she asks.

"I was... I um..." Niall sits down across from her. He realizes this is the second time he's been within kissing distance of her and he questions why he makes a mental note of that.

Aoife stares at Niall until he picks at the skin on his fingers, she suspects this is a nervous habit of his.

"Look, I don't think it was very fair of you to make assumptions like that back at the school." Niall begins, "I wasn't pitying you, if that's what you think that was. And for you not being good at making friends, I'm not all that great at it either."

"You're not good at making friends but you have a large group of them that you associate with every day?" Aoife replies.

Niall sees how his situation looks. He does have a large group of people that he "hangs" out with on a daily basis, but none of those people are his actual friends. They aren't his friends because friends start to ask questions and Niall can't have questions arising around him as it pertains to his family situation. Friends start to notice when Niall winces as they playfully banter with each other and one of them hits the side of his stomach in the wrong way. Friends aren't safe and Niall is as cautious as one can be.

"That's different. Those people... well I like them well enough, but they're just there."

Niall understands his words seem pretentious the second they come out of his mouth. He's trying hard to plead his case and he isn't quite sure where the need to convince this girl to be his friend came from. The girl looks at Niall in shock and perhaps curiosity?

"Still, I meant what I said, I don't need friends."

"But I do," Niall blurts out before he can think about what he's saying. His cheeks flush with embarrassment but he doesn't try to save face.

Aoife brings her eyes to search Niall's face for any humor or pity. She sees neither. What she does see are the eyes of a scared boy in the body of a man. She sees agony and pain and desire and she isn't quite sure if all of those are directed towards her or if any of them are but she sees herself in him. She see herself in the way his eyes gloss over just a little bit. She sees her pain through his.

"Maybe."

"What?"

"We'll have a trial period," she says.

"You can't be serious?" Niall says raising an eyebrow at the girl in front of him.

Aoife just closes her book and rest her hands against her chest. She's challenging Niall, seeing if he'll take her bait.

"Fine, a trial period." Niall agrees. "What does that entail exactly."

"A lot of failure," Aoife replies.

"Naturally."

"Good. I'm glad we are on the same page." Aofie opens her book back up and begins to read again and she can feel Niall staring at her.

"Wait."

Aoife sighs, "What?"

"I never caught your name."

"Aoife, it means-"

"-beauty." Niall finishes.

Aoife looks at him and frowns. She's trying to figure out what he wants with her. She's trying to gauge whether he's using her for a laugh or if he's genuine with wanting to be her friend. But she remembers the pain in his eyes and surely he can't fake something like that. She convinces herself that this will be a good thing, that nothing bad will happen.

She needs this just as much as he does.