The Girl Next Door: A Niall Horan Love Story

        I shifted my stance carefully, making sure my precious toes wouldn't be crushed, and signaled to my aunt with a quick nod. "Alright on three," she said adjusting her grip on the blue loveseat.

        "One...two......THREE!" I grunted loudly and lifted the little couch then waited for my aunt to start out of the cluttered moving truck.

        "Okay Clarissa, let's get this bad boy into your room! Then all that's left are the easy things." She let out an excited woop, her bright green eyes glittering like polished emeralds. For a fleeting moment, as the sunshine turned her russet braid into a gleaming strands of copper, I saw my mother. She smiled at me warmly, and then the two of us hobbled into the opened front door and Aunt Clare returned, leaving no trace of my mother. 

        "Do you think we can make it up the stairs?" I asked as my aunt lead the way through her posh flat to the stairs just down the hall from the door. 

        She answered me with an snort, "Don't insult me you little Hick!" I couldn't help but laugh, making my arms grow weak and my hold on the love seat to slip. 

        "Aunt Clare, if you don't want me to drop this thing on your pretty floor, you better not go calling me that!" I warned, my eyes narrowed jokingly. Aunt Clare gasped in mock surprise and bit her lip to keep from laughing at my horrible attempt to be menacing. "Watch the stairs," I added only making my aunt snicker.

        I have never been good at being mean. I guess you can say it's just not in my DNA, however I do have an abundace of clumsiness. Which kicked in the moment I reached the top of stairs, just as I was about to clear the last step I forgot to lift my foot and was sent face first into the couch. Aunt Clare let out a surprised shriek and dropped her end of the couch, causing me to roll right over her end and land with a thud on the oppisite side. "Ouch," I groaned unwilling to push myself up. I was anwsered an eruption of sound. I jumped at the sound and looked over at Aunt Clare, she was doubled over leaning heavily on the loveseat. Tears streamed down her face and two dimples appeared in her rose colored cheeks."Oh God! Oh my God, that was....Holy Lord, I CAN'T BREATH!!" she exclaimed. 

        I pushed myself up from the floor, rolling my eyes as I carefully rubbed my aching bum. "Thanks for all the help," I muttered sending Aunt Clare into another spasm of laughter. She threw herself into the loveseat, beating her dainty hands on the azure cushions. Knowing I had just made my aunt useless for a good half hour I began down the stairs to start unpacking the rest of my stuff. As I emerged from the house I paused for a moment feeling the warmth of the day. Summer in London is quite a bit cooler than summer back in Kentucky, I thought before walking across my aunt's lawn to the moving truck. 

        It was a strange feeling to look into the back of the truck of see my whole life packed into a disappointing amount of old cardboard boxs. I climbed up into the nearly empty truck and sighed. I was surrounded by eighteen years worth of memories; clothes bought on fun days out with my mother and friends, blankets and pillows used in every fort ever built by my brother and I, brushes and paints given to me as christmas presents and birthday gifts. I carefully lifted a heavy box and started the process of finally moving myself into my aunt's inviting home.

        On my way back up the stairs I noticed my aunt had shoved the loveseat against the wall and was standing in a room at the end of the hall. She had her back to me and I was struck with the urge to paint her. Her whole body was leaned against the door frame, arms hugging herself tightly as she studied a room gleaming in warm light, causing her to look like a fiery-haired angel on the brink of entering heaven. I walked up beside her breaking her out of whatever thoughts she'd been pondering on. She bit her bottom lip and asked me nervously, "Do you like it?"