#DIRTYIMAGINES

This Afternoon -NIALL HORAN

#DIRTYIMAGINE

This Afternoon- NIALL HORAN

"I suck at this!" I cried out in frustration, placing the guitar down next to me and frowning. Feeling a presence behind me, it wasn't long until Niall was wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder.

"You just started learning, babe. It'll get easier. Come on," he picked up the guitar and put it back in my lap, taking my hands in his and helping me. His long fingers covered mine as I held the pick, pressing slightly until the instrument came to life underneath me.

Niall had been- unsuccessfully- trying to teach me how to play the guitar. Ever since I'd told him I was interested in it he was hellbent on teaching me. I was almost positive that I'd never seen my boyfriend so excited before, obviously I couldn't say no to him.

It's been a disaster. My fingers kept cramping up, the tips red and aching. My neck hurt from craning it down to stare as my fingers moved, but the only music I ever made sounded like a screeching animal. I didn't want to learn anymore and I wanted to give up, but I didn't want to hurt Niall's feelings. He'd been so patient with me and explained things over and over again. We'd spent nearly all morning trying and I just didn't want to do it anymore. No matter how many times he told me I'd be able to get the hang of it, I knew I wouldn't.

Niall and I had been dating for nearly three months. We were friends for a long time, always hanging out and messing around, watching movies and eating like our stomachs were bottomless pits. I was one of the few people who could actually keep up with Ni and his voracious appetite. We flirted too much for our own good, but that was just the way we fit together. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have feelings for him. He was just that kind of boy, though. He had such an energetic personality, always wanting to try something new and go somewhere, always wanting to go on some crazy adventure. In some aspects he was still like a little boy, his laugh contagious and his smile completely radiant. I couldn't help but develop feelings for him. I was a goner right away.

After he left to go on tour I didn't see him for almost four months. It was tough to fill my time with work, directly going to hang out with my other friends after. It wasn't the same, though. We didn't talk on the phone every night and we obviously could have our movie nights anymore. Whenever I passed by a Nandos I kept my head down, unable to look inside without getting sad. It was hard not having him there, extremely hard. But that made Niall coming home that much more special.

He'd surprised me, showing up at the end of my block as I walked down the sidewalk, earbuds in as music blasted through them. I was staring at the ground when I suddenly got the urge to look up. With that messy blonde hair and tired but still gorgeous smile, Niall let out a laugh and waved at me. I'd been shocked, seriously stunned because he wasn't supposed to be home for another week. But it had been the best surprise to ever happen to me, and as I ran toward him I realized that somewhere along the way I'd fallen in love with one of my best friend's.

That was the first time I'd kissed Niall James Horan. We were standing outside of my townhouse, the sky darkening with the oncoming threat of rain. With my arms and legs wrapped around him as he swung me around, I couldn't help the feeling that overcame me and I pressed my lips to his, pausing and pulling away because it hit me all too quickly what I'd just done.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears already pricking my eyes because I knew that there was a huge chance I'd ruined our friendship.

He stared at me for a few moments and said nothing, one hand still holding my waist while I stared up at him. His eyes looked an unreal shade of blue, a slight green appearing just around the pupils. I'd gotten lost in those eyes so many times, stared into them while Niall told me about how hard it was sometimes, about how it hurt because some people didn't like him as much as the other boys. I'd looked in those eyes enough times to know when he was sad, when he was happy, or when he was fuming angry.