Mr Bump - A Louis Tomlinson fanfic

~~~AUTHOR'S NOTE~~~

So, hey.

I didn't know where else to write this hehehe :-)

Basically, I've thought of a really good idea for a Niall fanfic. I've been writing it for a while, but my friend read it and told me I should upload it cause its amazeballs.com :D

But Idk. Should I wait till Mr Bump is over or should I upload straight away? IDK. I reallyyyy want you all to see the new story, because I think its a good idea personally, but idk idk idk (could I say that enough?!)

If I was to upload it, I'd want more reads, because I think the Niall Horan fanfic has better writing material than this one. IT DESERVES READS :( But idk how to get more reads UGGGGHHH. Anyways, if you're reading this could you PLEAASE PLEAASSSEEEE PLEEAASSEEEEE comment, telling me which you'd rather? Niall or Louis? And, if you couldn't decide yourself, I'll leave the prologue for the Niall fanfic below. :-)

THANK YOU x x x x

Love Hurts - A Niall Horan Fanfic

“Niall James Horan, you are such a tool!” Charlotte screamed, tears and snot flying everywhere.

 I just stood there, biting my lip and shuffling my feet.

 “I hate you! Don’t you understand that? Fuck that, I hate everyone!” She screamed to the wind again, and I winced at her casual swear. She was like this usually, but it had been so long since one of her outbursts. I had no clue what had triggered her, and I wasn’t eager to find out either.

 “Char, please. I know you don’t mean that. What’s wrong? What happened? You haven’t been like this in so long...” I trailed off, and her 14 year old face tightened.

 Her 14 year old face. Hah, what a joke. More like 25 years old, with the amount of wrinkles on it. All she ever did was worry. Complaining was common, as was moaning and whining. She almost enjoyed stressing out. I, however, was sick of it. I avoided stress like a disease. She couldn’t seem to get enough of it.

 “YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND! God, Niall, you’re so stupid. Just fuck off and leave me alone, okay?” She shot over her shoulder, trudging down the beach, leaving me standing in the cold Irish sea air. I sighed; “leave me alone” was always code for follow her. So I did. I watched her stomp down the beach, before she reached a random point and plonked herself down. I jogged over to her spot, sat down next to her and wrapped my arms around her. She sobbed into my shoulder, her mumbled worries floating away in the late November breeze.

 And despite the trouble she brought me, constantly, I knew I loved her. She was my whole life. Nothing else interested me, really, apart from music. Everything I ever knew was Charlotte, and that wasn’t some silly 15 year old notion. I loved her, but was it worth it?

 “You’re going to be okay, Char. I’m here for you, always, okay? Soul mates. I love you.” I murmured softly, as I kissed the top of her head.

 This, I suppose, was a turning point in my life. As Charlotte clutched my jacket in her fists, she sobbed out a question I never would know how to answer. Or understand.

 “Niall, tell me. Please, answer me, because I can’t understand it. What if someone loved you so much Nialler, it hurt? What would you do?”

 She turned her head to face me, her beautiful brown eyes burning in to mine. Her features were disfigured in anguish, her nose and mouth scrunched up. I had no answer to her question, so I just pulled her back to me, rocking her back and forth.

 “You’re going to be okay, Char, I promise. You know why? Because you’re my girl. You’ll always be my girl.”

 She was too tired to retort, so she retreated into my arms. The cold sand made my backside feel numb; the salty tang in the air lingered on my tongue. I stared out at the stormy Irish horizon, the choppy waves seemed to calm as I exhaled slowly.

 I looked down at my best friend, my world, my everything. Her long brown hair was tied with an elastic band, and her tanned skin was cool to the touch. She looked up at me, and I brushed her hair away from her face. I leaned in to kiss her, but she flinched. I persevered, and finally, after 13 years of waiting, I kissed her.

******

3 weeks later, Charlotte moved away. I was heartbroken. I wrote her letters every single day, really cheesy stuff. But she ignored them. I called her, tried to find her, everything I could to keep in contact, all without results.

 That was 5 years ago. Now, here I am, right back where I started. Its true what they say, I suppose. Love hurts.