this is the one that I wrote because this is how you all wanted it to end.
You know, where Niall still is living and loving.
pick and choose.
pick.
and.
choose. Also read my other story, all falls down, because if anything you'll like it.
Ellie xx
_________________________
"Babe!"
I sighed, I finally got to spend a sunday sitting on the couch watching televison, and Niall already needed my help. I rolled off the couch, hitting the groud, and grumbling a bit to myself, straigtened up and walked up the stairs.
Niall and I now had a ten month old daughter, Maeve. And while she was the sweetest little thing, she was not a good sleeper. She was difficult. She was sweet, but difficult.
"What is it?" I said when I finally reached Isabelle's old room (She moved her shit into Henry's while they were both out and about the summer before college) which we had painted with pink hearts on the inside.
I pushed the brass knob open to see Niall's hands ghosting the underside of Maeve's arms, as she drew shaky steps foward. This was really quick. I noticed the video camera going in the corner of my eye, and smiled. He had this all worked out. Finally, her chubby legs gave out and she landed with a thunk onto the carpet.
"See? Sorry to have disturbed you, I just figured..." He trailed off, lifting Maeve into his arms. Our little irish baby. My two irish babies, looking so cute together. I went over and wrapped my arms around the both of them.
"Don't sweat it. Actually, thank you."
"Well, no problem," he said, smug a bit. I lifted Maeve out of his arms, and sat myself down in the rocking chair situatied next to her crib. I crossed my legs and held Maeve into my chest, her tiny, chubby chin resting on my shoulder. Of course, Niall came over and sat in my lap.
"Oooph."
"Sorry babe."
He leaned in and pecked my lips, and I could taste the coffee on them. And it was blissful. I just let the moment steep into my memory for a moment.
Before Maeve upchucked on my shirt. You know the little spit ups babies do, nothing big, just pretty gross. Niall stifled a laugh, and took Maevey from my arms to clean her up, change her onesie, and put her down for a late afternoon nap.
I walked over to our room, and peeled my shirt out, trying to make sure no other parts of it touched the vomit. I rinsed it under the tap, before tossing it into the laundry basket.
"You look hot," Niall commented from the door post. It kinda struck me right then that I wasn't wearing a shirt.
"Oh."
"Why are the most beautiful creatures the most self concious?"
He said, slithering over to me and draping himself apon me, enveloping me into his arms.
"you smell so nice," he muttered, seeming to forget that I was just vomited on.
"I love you."
"I love you too," he said, tracing circles onto the small of my back, dipping low, then up again, and low low low again.
I felt loved, right then. I had Niall, he had me, we have Maeve and she had us. The twins had us. Harry even had us, Zayn and Louis too, Liam especially.
We all had each other.
