“Niall, I’m home!” you called as you closed the door behind you. There was no response which was quite strange so you headed to the bedroom to see if he was here. “Niall?” you asked as you entered the room. He was sitting on the bed, his phone in his hand and a frown on his face. “What’s wrong?’ you asked and sat down beside him but he only responded by handing you the phone. On it were tweets and tweets of hate from people insulting Niall over everything. “You can’t seriously be listening to this,” you said a fire building inside you. “I dunno,” he said and his head dropped to his hands. “Not all of those are wrong.” “Niall,” you murmured and wrapped your arms around him from behind and placed your chin on his shoulder. “That’s not true. You are perfect.” He turned his head to you, his face inches from yours. “You’re perfect to me,” you whispered and when he smiled you met your lips with his and made him forget his thoughts.
