Too Much To Ask |NH|

Chapter Eleven

Niall woke up, gasping for air.  Reaching beside him, his sheets were soaked.  He was sweating profusely.  He picked up his phone, "2:33.  I hate this fucking clock!" He yelled, hurling it across the room.

"Now, Niall, what have I told you about throwing your phone when you're frustrated?"

"To not do it because it will only piss me off even more," I sighed, as I collapsed onto the bed and hid my face in my hands.

"I know you're under a lot of stress and pressure from your label but fuck them.  You'll release a new album when you're good and ready.  When you love what you're putting out.  Until then, fuck them."

I raised my head from my hands and saw her standing there, dressed up, as beautiful as ever and ready to go.  "You need to get going, babe."

"I can leave in a minute.  I'm not going anywhere until I know you're okay."

"I am, I promise.  I'm sorry.  I don't want to ruin this night for you.  It's your big night.  You've work so hard and you deserve every last bit of it."

She knelt down in front of me, placing her hands on my knees and her chin upon her hands.

"Yes, I do deserve it.  I also deserve to have my main man sitting in that audience with nothing on his mind but me."

I smiled at her, "I love you.  You know that, right?  You know how much I love you?"

She stood up a little and cupped my face in her hands, "I love you," she whispered, before placing a soft kiss on my lips.

"I love you.  And I'm so proud of you.  And happy for you.  And you know I will be in that audience, cheering for you in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible."

She giggled a little as she let go of me, "You damn well better be."

She grabbed her jacket, putting it on.  I walked her to the door where she picked up her bag.  "Where's your cello?"

"It's already at the concert hall.  I left it there yesterday.  You know me, had I brought it home, my perfectionism would come out and no one would've gotten any sleep."

"You're already perfect."  She smiled at me as I opened the door.  "You will see me, front row, center, babe.  You won't be able to wipe the smile from my face."

Niall leaned back against the bed, his sheets still sticking to him.  He wanted to scream.  His mind was racing and it would not slow down.  He got out of bed and made his way to the living room.  Reaching for a record, one of their favorites, he placed it on the turntable, lifting the needle and placing it down.

"God, the sound of a record player, if that's not one of your favorite sounds, I don't think we can be friends."

Niall closed his eyes, the sound of her voice in his head was driving him mad. 

He walked into his kitchen and pulled out the pizza he had ordered earlier that night.  Opening it up, it didn't look very appealing but it was all he had.

"You really need to make a grocery run, Niall.  You can't live like this."

While waiting on the pizza to heat up, he made his way to that room, turned the lamp on and looked down at the photo albums.  He had left three of them strewn open with several photographs out of their sleeves.

"You need to be more careful with these," he said to himself as he knelt to the floor.  Picking up one of the photos, he looked at it a moment before putting it up.  "Why did we keep this one?  There's nothing there."

He heard the oven ding so he got his pizza and returned to his spot on the floor.  "I'm surprised you haven't worn through the damn floorboard, Niall.  You sit here way too much lately.  Jesus, I need to stop talking to myself."

He took a bite of his food before flipping the page and nearly choked.  His heart stopped in his chest.  Placing his plate down, he swallowed hard as his fingers delicately lifted the plastic sleeve and carefully removed the picture.