11:11 - Niall Horan Fanfiction

Part 7

Part 7

You yawn, stretching your arms out. You clutch the thick duvet in your hands and pull it up to your chin. Even without opening your eyes, you can tell Niall lays beside you.

“Morning hun.” Niall whispers in your ear. You shiver at his hot breath on your ear.

Slowly, you open your eyes, blinking at the blinding sunlight that seeped in from in between the curtains.

Niall leans over you, blocking your view of the bright light.

“How long did I sleep for?” you yawn once more.

“I don’t know, it’s noon.” he chuckles, playing with your hair.

You wrap yourself in the oversized shirt Niall had borrowed you and tuck your feet into his flannel PJ bottoms.

“What are we going to do today?” you wonder, cuddling up to Niall.

“Uhm…well I was thinking we could just stay home and…” he stops. “Let’s talk about this later.”

You shrug and nod your head, closing your eyes once more, and leaning against his chest.

When you finally wake again, it’s 2pm, and Niall slowly drags you out of bed and to the couch downstairs to watch Grease once more. He kisses your for head as you lay beside him.

“I really wish I never have to lose you.” Niall whispers.

“You don’t.” you reply, trying to smile. What does he mean? Your mind suddenly spins. Does that statement mean he was planning on losing you? You look up to him,

“Why would you say that?”

He looks away, his face growing cold and distant. He doesn’t say anything as he slowly gets up, retrieving a bottled water from the kitchen table. When he sits back down, he seems to be trying to make an effort not to sit close to you.

“Niall?” you whisper, placing your hand on his arm to get his attention. You can hear Grease, still in the background, half-muted.

“I need to talk to you about something.” he says, barely audible.

“Something like what?”

He doesn’t reply for the longest time, and you quickly look over to him. His face looks pained. You gulp, your mouth growing dry. Surely, what Niall was about the tell you wasn’t good news.

“Niall?” you repeat.

“We’re leaving.” he blurts out, barely bothering to look at you as he says so.

“What?”

“We’re leaving, to America.” he adds.

“Pardon?”

“Brittney, are you deaf? We are leaving, meaning we aren’t staying here. Meaning you can’t…” he stops, his voice cracking.

It takes a moment for it to hit you. “But…why?” you beg, shoving a strand of your hair behind your ear angrily.

“There is an American tour. I knew we’d have to go back.” he pauses, now looking to you. “We are only visiting, this whole two months has only been a vacation.” he licks his lips, and looks back down at the ground.

“You’re going on…another tour?” you murmur, trying to process the information.

“Yes,” is all he says.