Broken Strings || Niall Horan [AU]

20 | coffee date

❝As long as there was coffee in the world, how bad could things be?❞ ▬ Cassandra Clare, City of Ashes.

CHAPTER TWENTY
One Week Later: Saturday the 3rd of August

"Are you ready yet?" Niall shouts impatiently from the living room as I fix my hair in the hallway mirror, checking for the hundredth time today that I look decent enough to show my face in front of my ex-best friend. I do look decent, but I know she'll look better. She always does. 

"Nearly!" I call, frowning as I adjust the zip on my jacket, nervously observing my tired reflection. I didn't sleep well last night; I kept tossing and turning, anxiously fretting over thoughts of today. The fact that I was alone, as Niall has insisted on spending the past few nights in his house (which I'm mostly happy about, because in the mornings I need time to shower and get myself presentable before going to meet him), didn't exactly help. 

Behind me, Niall appears in the hallway; I watch in the mirror as he loops his arms around my body, holding me tight from behind. Over the past few weeks, he's eaten so much food that his arms have built up a bit of muscle; as a result, his embrace is strong and safe, and though it was before, it's even more so now. 

He tilts his face to place his lips near my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck as he speaks. "You look beautiful, okay? Now come on, we're going to be late," he says softly, and obliging, I turn round to face him. I glance up into his twinkling eyes. 

"I don't know if I can do this, Niall," I tell him truthfully. 

"But you're Anna Winters," he chukles, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my hipbone beneath my shirt. "You can do anything." He catches me rolling my eyes and frowns again. "What are you so worried about?"

"It's just, I haven't seen her in so long," I explain. "And I'm worried what she'll think of me because she's amazing and-"

"And you're not?" Niall interrupts, lifting his eyebrows. "You're the most amazing girl I know. Just be yourself. Besides, you were best friends for ages, right? She's not going to judge you. Just pretend she never left and you'll be absolutely fine." 

"Okay," I whisper, taking a deep breath to calm myself. That's the thing about Niall: he always knows exactly what to say to make me feel better. "Okay. Let's go."

Niall beams at me, triumphant. He takes my hand and opens the front door, leading me outside. "And then," he goes on while I lock the door behind us, "after about twenty minutes, I'll pretend to run into you, and you can brag to her about your amazing Irish hunk of a boyfriend. And we'll make her really jealous, yeah?"

"Yeah," I laugh, squeezing his hand tight as we make our way down the garden path. With my other hand, I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a slightly crumpled ten pound note. "Here you go," I say, placing it in Niall's palm before closing the gate behind us. 

"What's this for?"

"This is for when you ever-so-kindly offer to buy us drinks and cake," I state matter-of-factly. 

"Ah," Niall says, nodding. "I see."

We walk in silence, and my thoughts wander dreamily to how incredibly lucky I am to have his hand holding mine right now, all warm and soft, and how his laughter is like sunshine, dancing through the summer air as he talks, that gorgeous accent filling the skies and flooding the world with warmth. I think about his smile, and then I look at his smile, and I know that nothing will ever be bad again. It's hard to feel sad when you know smiles like that exist.