The One You Call | horan au

sixteen

Niall's P.O.V.

-

"I brought over the last of your things," Phoebe said to me, as she stared at my bare feet.

"I was going to swing by and pick them up," I told her, peaking over the top of the small cardboard box she held in her arms.

"Now you don't have to," she said utterly, looking past me at something in my apartment. Anywhere but at me.

I nodded.

She didn't want my things at her place any longer. She didn't want anything in her home to remind her of the time that we spent together.

I wanted to understand. But a part of me was a little hurt that she was so ready to forget about me. It was almost if she packed the last three months of her life into the box she was holding out to me.

I took the box from her hands and invited her inside. She accepted my invitation but refused to step into the living room with me.

I set the box on the coffee table and began to rummage through it.

There was nothing in it that bared much importance to me. Just a few things I left in her bathroom; my shampoos, shaving cream, and spare tooth brushes.

There were a few snack boxes that I kept in her cabinets for when I stayed over.

Phoebe hated any dessert containing mint, but I love them. She always looked at me with disgust, as I stuffed my face with thin mints. And then I would annoy her even further by begging her for kisses with my minty chocolate breath. She pushed away at my greedy lips at first but she always gave in.

Lastly there was an old hoodie of my mine, tucked neatly in the corner as if she didn't want to take the chance of any of my soaps spilling onto it.

She loved that sweater and I knew this because she often wore it more than I did, whether she was going out or simply around the house. It was more hers than it was mine.

I closed the box, having decided that I would put everything away later, and walked back to the door to send Phoebe off.

"Thank you," I said.

"No problem," she said, offering me a small smile before she turned to leave. "Goodbye."

It sounded so final.

"Wait," I called.

"What?" she exhaled. I could tell by her tone that was growing agitated with me.

I found myself running my palms along the backs of her arms in an effort to calm her down. She still refused to return my gaze but I could feel her body begin to relax under my touch.

I stilled my hands, placing a gentle but firm grip on her on her shoulders as I guided her body towards the door.

She blinked up at me as her back hit the door and I pinned her to it using my hips. I took a lock of her and pushed it back, revealing the thin straps of her shirt. The tank top she wore was tight up enough to support her breasts without a bra.

I brought my hand to her face and gripped her jaw, watching her lips purse as I applied more pressure. I felt her warm breath on my thumb as I parted her lips with it. The sight was so sexy that it had me biting my own.

"Take off your clothes," I told her.

"Huh?"

"Just one more time," I said. "I want to f.uck you one last time."