come closer || nh au

come closer || nh au

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Mon, Jun 17, 20198h 40m
Violet is a usually quiet, book loving girl with a fable for online book blogs, tattoos and obsessing over Cole Sprouse and Dylan O'Brien while dealing with stress and anxiety. Niall is known for his skill in bed but also his reputation to break hearts like a stone breaks glass and his parties. No one ever misses his parties. Violet doesn't really like Niall but what when he starts trying to come closer? High School is a great place to experiment and find love. - I trace my hand down his hard chest, over the inked skin and over his abdomen, until I reach his belt. My fingers lock around the slightly cold metal clasp. I bite my lip, breathing steadily. He sucks in a deep breath, tensing under my touch. I look up at him and bring my lips to his ear, quickly letting them graze his earlobe. "You're too easy, Horan", I mumble, as I let go of his belt and push him away with a smirk on my face.
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† 𝔩𝔦π”ͺ𝔒𝔯𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔒 /Λˆπ”©Ιͺπ”ͺə𝔯ə𝔫𝔰/ π”žπ”‘π”§π”’π” π”±π”¦π”³π”’: π”ž 𝔣𝔒𝔳𝔒𝔯𝔒𝔑 π”°π”±π”žπ”±π”’ 𝔬𝔣 π”ͺ𝔦𝔫𝔑 π”Ÿπ”¬π”―π”« 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔬π”ͺπ”žπ”«π”±π”¦π”  π”£π”¦π”΅π”žπ”±π”¦π”¬π”«; π”ͺπ”žπ”―π”¨π”’π”‘ π”Ÿπ”Ά π”¬π”Ÿπ”°π”’π”°π”°π”¦π”³π”’ 𝔱π”₯𝔬𝔲𝔀π”₯𝔱𝔰, 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔀𝔦𝔫𝔀 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔒π”ͺπ”¬π”±π”¦π”¬π”«π”žπ”© 𝔯𝔒𝔠𝔦𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔢, π”žπ”«π”‘ π”žπ”« π”žπ” π”₯𝔦𝔫𝔀 𝔑𝔒𝔭𝔒𝔫𝔑𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢; ∴ 𝔑𝔒𝔳𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔑𝔯𝔒𝔰𝔰𝔒𝔑 𝔦𝔫 𝔑𝔒𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫 † "Then tell me," I rasp. "Tell me and I'll deal with it. I'll handle it. Just-don't shut me out." "I can't," she says again, voice breaking. "I can't tell you. I can't be with you. And I can't stand here and watch you break and know that I'm the reason." She swallows hard, her throat moving. "Please don't make me explain it. Please just... stop." I take a step toward her anyway, rain dripping from my eyelashes, my chest hollow. "I don't care if it kills me," I say, and it's not bravado; it's a man with nothing left to barter. "If that's the price, fine. At least then I get to be with you before it ends." She makes a small sound, half sob, half laugh, and it's the most human thing I've ever heard from her. "Don't say that," she whispers, almost fierce. "Don't ever say that." She holds my eyes for one last beat, lips parted like she might say something else - something that could undo all of this, something that could make the rain stop mattering. But she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, low and unsteady, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, softer now, like a confession. Then she turns. And that's it.

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