Love... A Niall Horan Love Story

Chapter 39: Finally

Brielle's P.O.V.

I hugged Niall tighter as we sat there, still in the rain. The rain wasn't bothering me, as Niall was blocking me from the majority of it, and Niall seemed content to just sit there and hold me.

"I love you," he whispered into my hair.

"I love you too," I said back, for the first time.

When I glanced up, Niall was smiling at me, eyes bright in the gloom of the night. He leaned down and kissed me gently, as if I might break. I sat there and enjoyed his kiss, which I had missed for so long. My eyes fluttered shut as Niall kissed me harder. My hands crept up and tangled in his hair. I shifted my right hand and Niall pulled back, wincing.

I looked up and saw the bump on his head. I gasped when I finally got a good look at it. It was large and swollen and blood was running off it. I gently touched it and Niall pulled back, hissing slightly, even pushing me off his lap a little, which clued me in to how much it hurt.

"Niall, you're hurt," I said.

"I'm fine," he said, ignoring the wound on his head.

"No you're not," I said, trying to look at his head, reaching up with both hands.

Niall's hand closed over my wrist and he pulled my hand down and kissed me hard, trying to distract me but it didn't work.

I pulled away and shook my head. "Niall, you're hurt. Maybe really bad."

"I'm fine," he insisted, trying to kiss me again.

I leaned back outside of his grip. "You can't just kiss me and expect me to forget that you're bleeding," I said stubbornly.

"Please Brielle," he begged me. "Can we just ignore it?"

"Why?" I asked. "So it'll get worse?"

Niall sighed. "I just hate getting any sort of medical treatment. So can we please go home?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Fine," I conceded.

Niall's smile lit up the night. "Come on Bri," he said. "Let's go home."

I followed him as he walked through the London streets, staying close because, let's be honest, it's dangerous to walk through a dark city alone when you're a girl. Niall found his flat and unlocked the door. We stood in the entrance hall, dripping quietly onto the carpet.

"You're stuff is still here," he said quietly. "When you... you know."

I did know, and to remove the awkwardness from the air, I said, "Thanks. And do you have a pen?"

If Niall was startled by this request, he didn't show it. All he did was give me a pen and I found my pajamas and changed. I dug through my bag and found my diary, which the judge had given back to me. The book suddenly felt less personal, as if people had poured out my secrets to the whole world. In a way, I guess they had.

However, I still needed to write my feelings, so I flipped open to an empty page, past pages filled with pictures and my handwriting.

The past is history, tomorrow's a mystery.

It's been a while since I've writing in you, diary. A long time, actually. That's because a lot has been going on. I had my trial, you know, the one where people tried to prove that I was a killer? Yeah, that happened. It was really scary. I was freaking out, even though I knew I was innocent. Niall had to come to the trial. I didn't want him to, but he had to come to tell everyone about the night where he saved my life. You remember that, yes? Well, the judge had to read you. He read you, every single entry. I felt violated, actually. This was my diary, my thoughts and he intruded on them. I wanted to rip you out of his hands, actually. But then, I won. The charge that they brought me to court on was totally false. It wasn't even good evidence. It was pathetic. They brought in a kitchen knife, that both James and I used. They thought I used it to kill him, even though he died from a gunshot wound. I got off. They let me go. And they have no reason to bring me back to court, so I'm finally free.