The One You're Waiting On (Niam)

"Niall," I whispered, desperate for the blonde lad to look at me. My eye brows furrowed as I waited, watching as his jaw clenched and his neck tense. I reached a hand out and placed it softly on his shoulder.

When he finally turned to me, the first thing I noticed was his eyes. The usually bright blue was glossy and dull, tears still brimming his eyes. And that escaped had stained his pink tinged cheeks, and underneath his eyes were puffy. His skin was blotchy and pale, and I could tell he was sick. My eyes travelled lower to his lips, which were slightly parted and chapped.

When his eyes finally met mine, I started. "Look, I don't know exactly how you feel. But I'm going to try and understand. But please, just tell me."

His tongue peaked from his mouth to moisturize his lips. He swallowed roughly, and coughed. "Where do I begin?"

"Before I moved here," I explained.

Niall tried to speak, only to stutter and try and swallow the lump in his throat. He squeezed his eyes together but tears still spilled and ran down his cheeks. I reached out and wiped them away. He tensed, suddenly, and my hand stilled on his face.

"Liam," he choked out.

I stroked his cheek in a soothing motion. "We're all a little broken, and that's okay," I hummed.

He began to lean into my touch and I felt an overwhelming sense of want. I wanted to protect him, I wanted to save him from his demons. I wanted to be wrapped up in him and forget the horrors of the world. I had had this feeling for a while, but now it was too big to ignore. I couldn't help myself.

So when his eyes travelled from my eyes, to my lips, and back, I had to lean it. I had to kiss him.