" Stop it Niall!!" I laughed, harder than usually. Embracing the love radiating out of him. He grabbed me and put me on his lap, and ever so gently, he kissed my temple. He knew that I loved it when he did that. "I'll love you forever and ever babe. I don't want you to ever forget that." Those were the infamous last words that Niall Horan, and myself shared. He may have told me never to forget that- but he didn't hesitate to. And trust me, that hurt. Stupid teenage love in all its glory is meant to be the peak of ones life, but look at me. I'm nineteen and pregnant with Niall Horan's child. Five months along to be exact. He left me for his stupid tour. Not caring about how I would feel. Didn't even offer to take me along with him: just up and left. And the worst thing about the whole Shenanigans, is that I'm five months pregnant. With HIS child. And he knows nothing about this predicament. And of course, after five months- right when my "condition" is in its more visible stage- he's on his way home. And now he's coming back, and what am I going to say when he sees me? 'Oh you know, ever since you left I've been a train wreck and have constantly found myself binging on the unhealthiest foods in the supermarket. Of course I'm not pregnant or anything.' But no, of course; lucky me gets to tell him that he is going to be a father, and most likely have him not want anything to do with the baby and leave me a train wreck, as usual. WHAT A JOY! Not.