time to begin [n.h]

epilogue

So I felt like writing this so I did...

“This is how I’m gonna die, Horan.”

 

“You’re so dramatic,”

 

“I’m realistic,”

 

“Just hold onto me or something.” Niall offers, holding his hand out.

 

“You don’t know how to ice skate either.” I point out. My feet wobble on the slippery ice. No one was in the ice rink besides us since we’re both “famous” and it’s a security concern or something like that.

 

“But at least if you go down, I go down with you.” Niall smiles.

 

Today is the first day of May. I moved here two years ago, started dating Liam in July of that year, we broke up in November which is when Niall and I got together. We’ve been together for about two years now. Like all couples, we fight sometimes. But we get through it.

 

Almost a year ago, we did this exact same thing. Going ice skating. It’s become a May tradition that’s only been going on for two years, including this year. We always go the day after the rink closes for the year but before they melt the ice. The perks of being famous.

 

“That sounds like a John Green quote.”

 

“What if it is?”

 

“I don’t know if I’d be flattered or mad. Is it?”

 

“Nope, it’s a Niall Horan quote. I heard he’s a really good guy.” He intertwines my hand with his.

 

I scoff. “Oh really? I heard he was an asshole.”

 

“Then you’ve heard wrong.”

 

We keep bantering and skating around the rink. So far, I hadn’t fallen. But that didn’t mean that I wouldn’t fall. When we turned the corner, my feet got tangled and I fell straight on my face. Niall, being the amazing boyfriend he was, stuck with his word and fell with me.

 

“Shit,” he said as he hit his nose on the ice. Since I’m so smart, I fell on my forehead. If I was really smart, I wouldn’t have fallen at all. But who needs knowledge? When Niall sat up, anyone could see the blood on the ice, the bottom half of his face, and his hands.

 

“Are you okay?” I ask, panicked. He could have broken his nose.

 

“I’m fine, I just need a tissue.”

 

“Tissues are for paying customers only.” I say in a weird accent. Under my breath, I say, “oh. Oh!” Just to spite myself. Niall gives me a ‘wtf’ look and I shake my head. I stand up and try my very best to pull him up, but I just end up falling on my bum.

 

Niall stands up, using the hand he’s not holding his nose with. He pulls me up without any problems and he starts skating to the door to get off the ice. We go to the men’s bathroom which was empty since no one is here. On the way, I kept asking if he was okay and he kept saying that I was and that I should stop asking. It’s not my fault I care.

 

By the time we got to the bathroom, the bleeding had mostly stopped but there was still dried blood all over him. I sit on the counter, next to the sink and take some paper towels, wetting them under the faucet. Now, I’m about an inch taller than him. I wipe the blood off his face and he stares at me, his eyes filled with lust.

 

The scrubbing of the blood causes his skin to turn red from irritation but he doesn’t seem to mind. He watches as I concentrate on cleaning the blood out of his shirt which is I know is hopeless but still.

 

“I think we’ve had enough ice skating today.” I throw the paper towels into the rubbish bin and grab another to dry his face. This one made his face even more irritated.

 

“We always have next year.” Niall smiles.

 

Although Niall and I have been in a relationship for two years, I don’t like to talk about the future. We never know what’s going to happen. For all I know, we could break up and all the plans we made would be cancelled. We wouldn’t see it coming. Despite my thoughts on my future with him, I want him in my future. I don’t know if I want to marry him or anything but I know that he’ll always be here with me.

 

“Let’s go home. I’m cold and I want hot chocolate.”

 

“It’s May,” he points out.

 

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be cold!” I fight. But Niall lead me to the car and took us home. While we’re halfway there, I remember the face Niall made as he went down and started laughing hysterically.

 

“What?” Niall asked, clearly confused.

 

“Nothing,” I breathe out. “It’s nothing.” But I can’t control the giggles that escape my mouth.

 

“What is it? Tell me.”

 

“You made the weirdest face when you fell.” I laugh.

 

Niall frowns fakely. “You’re mean.”

 

“But you love me.” I smile and kiss him on the cheek.

 

We get back to our flat to find Sherlock tearing up a poster of…Sherlock. My obsession has grown over the years and season three finally came out! But then again, so did Louis and Harry.

 

(AN: Remember what I said about 10 chapters ago? Larry isn’t real in this story. But I’m wondering how many of you ships Larry. Tell me in the commentsssss)

 

“Bad cat!” I scold and take the poster from him. Niall laughs and picks up Sherlock. The cat, not the poster. I inspect the damage and conclude that he completely ripped off Martin Freeman’s face and almost all of Benedict’s hair. A sigh escapes my lips and I end up just tossing it away. There’s no point in trying to fix it.

 

“He acts like a dog,” Niall says, petting Sherlock.

 

“That’s something you two have in common.”

“But you still love me,” he says, using my words from before. But reusing my words didn’t make them any less true.