he's a tramp || n.h.

thumbs.

dedicated to @terrible for being funny af

like her dumb fanfic moments book is my life and also bc i've been following her on instagram without remembering who she was or why i followed her oops

(dang it i just dedicated it to the wrong person that's embarrassing their icon was the default egg i jUST DEDICATED THIS CHAPTER TO AN EGG FRICK)

niall's just a really smiley person if you haven't noticed

i just love niall so much my heart could burst ugh ugh ugh i hate him and his messy hair and his scrawny legs and his ripped skinny jeans i'm so in love i hate everything 

all i do is write really cliche fluff i'm sORRY

also jane is not like a victoria's secret model (like she's literally five feet tall bc i'm trying to rep the short girls of the world holla) or anything just keep in mind this is from niall's point of view and everyone sees people differently

☼

niall. 

       "Oh, no!" She exclaimed and quickly dropped my hand from our handshake, her face flooding with color. "I'm so sorry!"

        I was about to ask her what had happened to cause her reaction when I realized the hand I had used to shake hers was now sticky.

        "Sorry, sorry, sorry! I had an incident with some raspberry filling and gah! Here, let's go to the bathroom and -- wow, I'm so dumb, sorry!" She pulled me along to the loo, sticky hand in newly sticky hand, as I howled with laughter, trying to convince her that it was alright and I didn't hate her or anything like that.

        Once I had washed my hands and met her outside of the men's room, I held up my cleansed hand. "See, no harm done."

        She raised up her own newly washed hand, a grin forming on her pretty lips, cute little dimples cratering her cheeks, and slapped my hand in a high five.

        Off we went then, out of the store and onto the street of the amusement park. Somehow, we ended up hooking arms and she began to ramble about the history of Disney, taking her self-assigned Tour Guide role seriously.

        As she animatedly gushed facts about different little things in the park, I gathered up my own facts about her. Like how her bow-shaped lips took on a pretty heart shape when her tiny mouth formed a smile ⎯ which she smiled a lot. She had the kind of smile that warmed you from head to toe and persuaded your own lips to follow suit and tug up at the corners. Her face was like the night sky; tiny freckles sprinkled on her cheeks and across her nose like constellations of stars. I wouldn't have been able to notice them from far away, but up close I could see how they decorated her shoulders. She had a beautiful nose ⎯ I didn't know a fucking nose could be beautiful until today ⎯ that slightly turned up, but not enough to resemble a pig's. When the sun landed in her eyes, her face would scrunch up, causing cute little crinkles to form at the bridge of her nose. She was so invested in telling me everything she knew about the amusement park ⎯ more than the average person probably should know ⎯ that she had never remembered to bring the sunglasses positioned on the top of her head back down to cover her eyes. I was grateful that I was able to see the vibrant blue in her irises. Her eyes were large and round like a child's, framed by thick lashes, the eyebrows overtop thin and expressive. I had always heard the phrase "eyes are the window to the soul", but never really thought much of it because it sounded stupid. Now, I understood exactly what it meant. I could see every flicker of emotion as she spoke, her eyes clouding with confusion when her words became jumbled, her eyes becoming impossibly larger when she grew really excited, and the happiness radiating in the crescents her eyes formed when she smiled. Her long mane of fiery, curly, red hair was affected with every single movement she made. No matter how small the movement, her spirals would bounce or tangle together. She had to push her hair away from her face a lot. It was a big, frizzy mess, but I thought it was kind of pretty.