Seven | Niall Horan

7 | Sette

So apparently I have a nickname now. Niall did not stop calling me 'Sev' all night. I assumed it was short for 'Seven' and not 'Severe Anxiety' or something like that. But, honestly, who knows with that guy.

Much to my dismay, the night was actually pretty good. We stayed at the pub for another hour or so before he dropped me back at the gym so that I could pick up my car and drive home. I know I said I trusted him but I'm definitely not ready for him to know where I live.

I may trust him but I'm also not stupid.

I was not expecting him to be so respectful about my boundaries though. Most people would press on to know what my name means but he clearly noticed my discomfort and chose not to ask. Not only that, but to then say he doesn't want me to tell him in case I regret it was a surprise. 

He's not what I thought at all.

After our third drink, he dropped me back at my car and said goodbye. No attempted kiss, no hug, not even a handshake. Just walked me to my car, smiled at me and then said goodbye...I'm not disappointed...not at all. 

Seriously though, I know myself and I know that if he tried to kiss me I either would have dodged it or let him do it and then ignore him for a while out of embarrassment. Like we had discussed for most of the night, I am a private person and it takes a while for me to open up to people, so I think him kissing me would have definitely thrown a spanner in the works.

I got in my car and made the short drive to the outer suburbs of London to my house. It may be quite a bit more expensive than renting or even buying an apartment but I couldn't have a place with stairs to get to the front door because of my mum. I bought an old house a few years ago with the intention of renovating it but I never got around to it. It doesn't need to be renovated but a few changes and upgrades would be nice.

It's a double storey house, the downstairs holding the kitchen, living room, dining room, a bathroom, and my mums bedroom. And the upstairs has my room, an ensuite, another lounge area, a third bedroom and another bathroom. My mum can't actually get up the stairs so the top floor is my own space while the bottom floor is hers. Not that she can really utilize it.

She had a major injury eleven years ago that left her body in shock and she never really got over it. She was left in a wheelchair but the doctors said she could eventually get back to walking. She got close but I think the trauma of the injury and how she got it didn't really help with her motivation in rehab. She kinda gave up and left me to look after her. She's not paralyzed or anything but walking and doing normal things can be really hard for her.

I don't mind it, really. She is my best friend. Before the accident, we would do everything together. She would take me to my self defence classes with my dad, we would go to the zoo because she loved looking at the meerkats and I loved the butterflies. We would all go out every Saturday to the park for a picnic and then get ice cream on the way home. That was all when I still lived in New York. Back when my dad was still around, before my mum got hurt, when everything was fine...normal.