A Second Chance

30

Lips so good I forget my name
I swear I could give you everything

When Niall walks back from his private lessons to the little shared house in St. Andrews he's good-humoured and humms one of his cousin's latest songs.
It's catchy, carefree and cheeky and Niall loves all the sexual innuendos.
"Too much is never enough" he can relate to this line as well as to "lips so good I forget my name" .

Ever since the day they shared their first kiss he has been constantly dreaming about the pink and sinful lips of his boyfriend, at day and night, dreams colourful and vivid, longing and lusting.

All kind of sensations and feelings seem to flow his system as his protecting floodgates were pried open again.

And he isn't embarrassed, not weirded out about perpetual imaginations of big hands all over him and a skilful tongue discovering every inch of his body while desire is rolling through his veins like a tidal wave.

He can't stop the voice inside singing HarryHarryHarryHarryHarry in continuous loop.

It's so hard to focuse on his schoolwork, focuse on his private teacher's attempt to discuss the topics of his oral test.
The only test that he needed to graduate before the accident happened.
Dr House accomplished a special permit for Niall to hand in the missing result of the oral test later to get his a-levels certificate.

So Niall will be able to start his studies next spring. That's good news he's almost dying to tell Harry.

But to get a good enough mark he needs to clear his head, needs to memorise the latest details they discussed during the maths lesson.
So he better concentrate on binomial expansion instead of caressing hands, curve sketching instead of swooning over long legs and countably infinite instead of countless kisses.

Nothing wrong about admiring the perfectly shaped body of his boyfriend. But for now he better be a willing student.

Niall finally reaches the little house and opens the door with his key.
When he steps into the kitchen he finds a letter addressed to Niall Horan lying on the counter.

It's from Harry, obviously. Not only the return address gives it away, but the subtle scent of Harry's favourite Tom Ford perfume too.

Dear Niall,

I loved receiving a letter again, heaven knows how much I did.
So I decided to write one for you as well, petal.

You are right, so as so often, writing a letter is romantic. A while ago I saw in a movie how a woman sprayed the letter for her boyfriend with her fragrance, so did I.

As you suggested I went out for a walk and truth to be told I was a lot better outside as I went for a stroll and felt the chilly breeze. I found myself properly breathing again, the pressure on my chest was gone.
It felt so good to just breathe in and out without worrying that I might end up with an asthmatic or panic attack.

So after my little walk along the riverside I passed a small stationary shop on my way home where I
bought new writing paper, I also stopped at Elsa's Tearoom and found a seat at a table in the corner.

So I ordered a cuppa and a blue berry muffin and did nothing else than relax a news paper, drink my tea and eat my muffin. See I was a good boy...

I'm back in my room now and I won't continue with my studies until this letter will be finished.

Writing someone a letter means intensively thinking about that person, feels like seeing them in front of you, seeing their smile, their sparkling eyes seeing them blush or frown, yet I hope my letters won't ever make you frown.