Niall Horan Imagines❤ Part 2

Winter Cabin - Part 5

He didn't see you the rest of the night. You kept to your room and didn't come down to eat dinner with him. He sat in front of the fire and forced himself to be honest. He sat his dirty plate aside and grabbed the leather bound book he kept on his person at all time. He flipped through the pages, scribbles and harried words jumping out as he searched for a clean page. His guitar was beside him, his one consolation during any time of distress.

The words on the page, they were written for you. Almost everything in this old book was written for you from the first moment you walked into the bar and out of the rain.

He'd seen you almost on accident, really. He'd looked up just as a glass broke and his eyes fell on the girl who slowly peaked her head in the door and stepped inside the warmth of the bar. He'd leaned his weight on his cue stick, hip on the pool table and he watched you sweep the room and stop directly at Harry's feet.

He had watched as Harry embraced you, kissed your cheek and talk animatedly to you. He didn't know how Harry knew you, he didn't much care. He'd dropped his cue and crossed the room, eyes still on you.

When he had stopped before you and your eyes swung to his, he was done. He knew he was done. He didn't know how, he didn't know why but the second your eyes met his something inside him clicked into place.

"Niall, this is my friend (y/n)," Harry had said happily. "Her mum and my mum are mates."

"Hi," you'd said, smiling timidly up at him, unaware that the world had just tilted on its axis.

"Hi," he said just as softly, eyes never leaving yours.

He'd been done for since. He tried, damn did he try and find someone else to occupy his thoughts but you had ruined him for any other love. He made sure to ask Harry if you were coming to any event planned and he would rearrange his schedule to make sure he found himself in the same room as you, talking quietly at the bar.

"What're you doing?" Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts and he lifted his head, snapping the book shut with a flick of his wrist.

"Just writing some stuff."

"New songs?" you asked, pulling the sleeves of your sweater down over his hands. Niall smiled when he realized you still had his jumper on.

"Something like that. You look cold."

"I am," you admitted, sitting down beside him and pulling a blanket down over your lap. "And I heard you moving around. I couldn't sleep."

He said nothing as he picked his guitar up and strummed a few chords before settling back. "Want me to play you something?"

Your timid smile was all he needed. He selected a song from memory, calloused hands sliding down the frets with expert grace and the small room was suddenly much warmer with his honeyed voice.

You watched him in silence, the way his entire body moved when he played and sang. He was hypnotizing, he always had been since the first time you'd met him. As soon as you walked into the bar, you could feel someone staring at you and when you looked at the man who was staring at you so intently, it had you pausing and trying to take a decent breath. It'd been like that since, trying to breathe when he was around.

"Tell me a secret," he said suddenly. The clock on the mantle chimed two a.m., and you'd begun to think that you and Niall could make a tradition of your two a.m. rendezvous.

"A secret, hmm. I never learned how to ride a bike."

He rolled his eyes and sighed. "That's not a very good secret. I'll have to teach you sometime."