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Niall stirred slowly, leaving his eyes closed for a minute as he woke up. He was shivering slightly; he must have kicked the blankets off in his sleep. Still he didn’t open his eyes to find them. He could feel Liam’s body pressed to his, one arm cuddling him in tight, and the body heat was enough.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that this wasn’t real; that it was just the last tendrils of a dream clinging to his consciousness. Because he could feel that he wasn’t lying in their soft bed, but was rather on the ground with sticks poking into his sides. And those weren’t Liam’s arms, nor was that his voice whispering for him to wake up – that was impossible.
He wasn’t ready to wake up fully just yet though, so he remained there with eyes closed, enjoying his illusion; imagining that in a few minutes they’d get up and make pancakes. Maybe watch a movie. Just spend the day together.
“Wake up Niall. C’mon. Open your eyes.”
The voice of Niall’s imagination spoke persistently, taking advantage of the persuading tone that used to belong to Liam. Eventually Niall gave in and blinked his eyes open. His vision blurred and refocused. In front of him was a spance of patchy grass; covered with freshly dropped golden and red leaves. He was curled up on his side in a patch of dirt, freezing cold.
Following his line of sight along the ground he saw a mass of twisted metal; barely even recognisable as a car anymore. It was smoking thickly, the front had crunched in on itself and at least one tire had come detached. He cringed at the sight and squeezed his eyes closed again, wishing he’d never opened them in the first place.
He’d survived the crash then.
He didn’t know how to feel about that. Maybe it was a blessing, but at the moment he thought it was a bit more of a curse. Either way, he’d totalled Louis’ car, which he couldn’t help but feel guilty over. He knew that it wasn’t the car Louis would be the most pissed about, but it was still his fault.
Rolling over in an attempt to further ignore the wreckage, Niall idly wondered how he’d ended up over here, so far from where the car landed. And then he froze.
So distracted by the sights, he’d overlooked something else, a rather important something else, and he’d only noticed it when he tried to turn over.
He hadn’t dreamt the body next to him. There really was a pair of arms wrapped around his body. He was now pressed chest-to-chest with whoever was holding him, and he had no clue who it was or why. It wasn’t going to be the one person he wanted it to though, so he didn’t allow his hopes to rise. That part he could be certain he’d dreamt.
Eventually he gave up and opened his eyes again.
Liam laughed at his expression, and Niall’s heart stopped.
There was no mistaking it. Liam was holding him.
Liam, who had died months ago, and had broken Niall’s heart in the process.
Liam, who had hadn’t left his mind for a second since he’d died.
Liam.
He didn’t know whether he should pull him closer or run away screaming.
“Took your time. You must’ve been having a pretty good dream there Nialler.”
He settled for a combination of the two options. First he pushed himself away, scrabbling in the grass. Then he launched himself forwards so he was straddling Liam’s waist and started kissing his face; anywhere that his lips could reach was covered. He started crying silently, the tears slipping out and wetting his cheeks, but he still didn’t cease his attack on Liam’s face.
