Capture My Heart (BK3: Niall Horan)

-Ch 35: Creating Clouds.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: Creating Clouds.

-Niall Horan-

The guitar rested easily in my lap, but I still felt the need to cross my legs further, so it didn’t fall. Leaning back against the wall my fingers moved easily over the strings, creating some kind of off-key melody. I was avoiding coming to terms with what I was doing right now, sat on my bed, strumming my guitar while I wore a sad expression with my sad posture and sad thoughts. My actions were similar to that of a heartbroken teenage girl. Although I had no reason to be heartbroken, since nothing had really happened, not in the bigger picture, anyway.

It had been about a week now, and I had to admit that I was missing her. But it felt kind of different to when I usually missed her, in the circumstances of maybe being away for a while, and knowing she was most likely at home alone. Did it make me a bit of an asshole to know in the back of my mind that sometime, she would come back? That was just what Ashley did, wasn’t it? She told herself, she told me, she was going, but she always came back in the end. I didn’t know if that made it sound like I took her for granted – I didn’t, but it was just such an overdone routine it was just so empty and boring now. Not to mention draining. I didn’t know it was possible to sleep much more than you usually do and feel even more tired when all you really do is sit around all day, making the occasional trip to the shop.

After two days solid of loneliness in our house I couldn’t take it anymore. It was probably not very wise to just get up one morning, grab a jacket, walk out and lock the door and come back to live with the boys, but I did it anyway. Which was why now was proving to a lack of clothing, a lack of toiletries, and many things I didn’t know I needed, being left behind.

My eyes travelled the lengths of the walls in this room, they were so empty with it being unoccupied for such a long amount of time. I tried to imagine them with the pictures and posters they had been previously, but it was hard. Sometimes, if I was in a sleepier state than usual, I’d be able to picture times with Ashley I’d had here. I was surprised at how I realised how much happier we had seemed then. She smiled a lot more then, most of the time, anyway.

I remembered the multiple times that I had lead here on this same bed, and watched her travel the area of my room picking things up and placing them where they needed to go and tidying in general. And she’d be mumbling complaints that I didn’t reply to and calling me various messiness related names, but I’d just smile as I continued to watch her just be here with me and be mine. It surprised me now how when things were so much simpler, we were so much happier. And I wondered if that maybe, sometimes, we had out-grown each other a bit.

As I continued to strum, I looked over towards the door and for a moment I managed to convince myself I was living in the past. I expected for her to appear in the doorway, to touch her dainty fingers against the paint of the doorframe and she’d smile as she watched me for a few seconds. Then I’d look over, notice her and I’d stop playing, she’d come forward and I’d probably hug her. She’d tell me I was great at playing the guitar, and I’d tell her I loved her. Then I’d kiss her and say I loved her, and I knew this routine so well because it used to be our everyday. Well, regular, anyway.

“You alright?” When I looked to the doorway now, I realised it to not be Ashley, of course it wasn’t. And of course it was Harry.

I looked up at him, halting my fingers from moving over the strings for a while. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine.”

“You seem it.” He scoffed, I didn’t reply. “When are you going over? To the house, I mean.”

I shrugged. “In an hour maybe?”