A couple things before we begin:
I tried to abuse the term “perfect face” in hopes that it would take up at least two percent of the fic
To anyone reading this in the future, I'd like to just say that Niall's surname isn't Comas (I don't know what it actually is) and I didn't know that when I wrote this.
I sigh as a new picture of Niall emerged from the printer. This makes my 607th picture that I’ve added to the shrine- each picture more unique than the last. I pick my pictures carefully and slowly, scrutinizing each detail. My new picture of Niall is going to be the final touch in a compilation of pictures I’ve collected and taken over the years (I remortgaged my house to be near this man). All the pictures are put carefully into place to make one big likeness of his perfect face. At night, I illuminate the shrine with lights and candles, so that it may radiate all throughout my house. The neighbors have not been too keen about the display they see at night, especially the one whose image is depicted on my wall. No, he hasn’t confronted me. I wish Niall would realize that his perfect face is art. However, Niall is my life since 2014, and this is how I pay tribute to him.
After coating the picture in a thick layer of clear glue- clear as to not obscure his perfect face-, I paste the finishing touch to my wall, and my breath is suddenly stolen from my lungs by the only thing it could ever be stolen by- Niall Comas and his perfect face. I reach blindly over for my inhaler and take a few puffs as I stare at my accomplishment. This makes me proud. Night has fallen over England, and I light the various candles and turn on the strings of fairy lights I have laying about my apartment. It illuminates Niall in a special way that I enjoy to look at by myself. I just wish my neighbors appreciated art when they saw it. Suddenly, a cold breeze strikes me and I turn around to shut the window. However, I see a particularly handsome, perfect face staring up at my shrine. His perfect eyes of indeterminate color catch mine, and I light up like my shrine. I wave enthusiastically, and he waves back with less gusto and a feeble smile coming from his perfect face. I shut the window and lie on the floor, my back against the radiator, ready to explode from the perfection of his perfect face.
Eventually, I collected myself and went to bed and fell asleep, but not before praying to our Lord and Savior, Niall James Comas. I pray for different things, like wealth and good fortune; of course, that’s wealth and good fortune to him, not to myself. I wouldn’t use the power of prayer in such a flippant manner. I fall asleep, hopefully to have good dreams of Niall’s perfect face.
Church bells ring with unmatched clarity under a clear and sunny day. Doves are released as a large crowd of onlookers watches Niall and I exit the church, arm in arm, as man and wife. Our destination is a vintage car, with a ‘just married’ sign on the back, complete with streamers and tin cans waiting to rattle the ground and pronounce this new chapter in our romance. Niall opens the door for me, with a smile gracing that perfect face that is threatening to split his face in two. I get in the car and suddenly we are whisked away to what is presumably our honeymoon.
Unfortunately, I’ve never gotten past that part. I always wake up when we drive away. It’s a shame, a curse brought to me because I have somehow displeased Niall. My prayers are never fully answered. I wake up and immediately check my phone. There are no new notifications pertaining to his YouTube channel, nor has his Twitter, Tumblr, Vine, Instagram, Twitch or Steam Group been updated or modified in any way. I only wish I could infiltrate his Discord. I’ve had way too many dreams about him finally inviting me into his Discord! The shrine, which is propped to face the window, still shows its beauty to the Birmingham apartment complex. I turn off the lights, and don’t even touch the candles since they’ve long since snuffed out. The day brings the usual English weather- rain, rain and more rain. I wish the typical Birmingham climate would keep me at home with my shrine, but unfortunately I had to go to work. My preoccupation with Niall does not pay for itself, unfortunately.
