drunk again || n.h.

||prologue||

||prologue||

He was blonde when we first met. Brunette roots climbed up the platinum strands. I remember the way his hair changed like the seasons, from being freshly bleached to being so grown out that it had almost completely recaptured its natural color.

He was a gentleman when we first met. His voice filled my ears with a deep, rumbling, Irish accent. He bought me a martini, sipping on one himself. I still remember that voice saying, "to new things" as he gently clinked the rim of his glass against mine.

As my memories unfold, the image of that composed, handsome stranger unravels before me, becoming a truer version of what I had gotten myself into that night. The flawless man I remember is peeled away to reveal what he meant when he said "to new things". Everything comes back to me and what I'm left with in my mind is what I see when I come back to reality:

Niall, my Niall.