Niall Centric One-Shots

Delicate .2.

Hearts don't break. They don't shatter like the novels tell the reader; they beat off-course. Each pulse sends a reverberating emptiness throughout its fleshy shell, no emotion coursing through the arteries that have gone cold from sadness.

Niall's heart pulses unevenly with each step he takes on the pavement, Michael staggering beside him. His heels dig ruthlessly into the hard material, wishing desperately to have been face-planted, dead on the cold surface. Michael could feel the desperation radiating of the boys shuddering frame. He felt as if it was his job to console the other boy, but the older seemed to find the sympathy in bottles of bitter liquids more effective than hugs and kind words.

"Tonight's beautiful."

Michael was being honest for once this night, not trying to attempt to break the solid silence. Michael thought he saw the older boy glance silently at the sky that held the blankets of stars in the sombre sea of night, but Niall merely shrugged his shoulders. Michael saw - felt - how frigid Niall's demeanor was at the moment, the anger and self-pity heavy around him. Michael thought about grasping Niall's hand in his and whispering to him that it all was going to be okay, but he knew Niall wasn't looking for that. Niall was, too busy analyzing every structure they passed, eyes squinted and reading the neon signs that flickered and buzzed warmly. Oh, how Michael wanted to be warm like the heated plasma running throughout the plastic tubes.

The weather was harsh but mellow enough to bear the walk they were taking. The wind purled at them, pushing their hair in awkward places, including eyes, and the bitter cold seeped into the open parts of their jackets and jumpers. Michael had his hands stuffed in his pockets, jacket collar up and shoulders hunched, but Niall was gripping the ends of his jacket sleeves in his hands, shoulders straight and back shuddering slightly. It began to sprinkle glass shards of arctic rain, but Niall refused to put his hands in his pockets, numbing his fingers even more.

"Niall, what are we doing?"

Niall didn't answer, he filled the air with quiet sighs. Michael was about to question his actions when he was pulled into the stairway of a building.

Michael shuddered, the cement walls of the stairway were even colder than the outside.

Their conjoined footsteps echoed around the walls as they grew closer to the top floor, the floor which Michael had no idea what was abounded on it. His inquiries were quickly answered when Niall pulled the emergency door open, something close to a smile faint on his chapped lips.

It was the rooftop of a building, but it held a small bar in the far right corner. Bodies huddled under the plastic drapes that were set up over the bar for cover from the piercing rain. Niall pulled him closer to an electric fire pit. The inside was filled with marbles and clear pebbles that reflected the miraculous colours of the open fire beautifully. The fire hissed at the pelts of rain but remain lit.

The air Michael sucked in was cold, despite the fire that tried to embrace him in warmth, "The city really is beautiful, isn't it?"

The city gleamed below them in small specks; the rain glistened on the marble walls and dark windows that reflected the traffic lights below. The usual bustling sound was lowered down to a dull roar because of the wind. Niall's cheeks were flushed and his lips were numb. He refused to speak, the feeling of rage and defeat boiling in the pit of his throat.

He could still visualize the horrific moment that had been seared into his eyelids when he looked down below at the streets. He could see the blue of Eleanor's shirt in the car lights, the brown of Louis' hair in the muddy puddles at the corners of allies, the red of Louis' face in the stop lights when he kissed Eleanor. He remembers the way Louis blushed and eagerly pulled Eleanor into him. He remembers the way Eleanor thread her knobby fingers into his hair and kissed back with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Niall remembers his heartbreaking, and so does Michael, but everything seems to blur and turn into careless whispers of heartless emotions to Niall.