I Hate My Boss. { A Niall Horan Fan Fiction }

Chapter 26 - Jumbled Memories

Chapter 26 - Jumbled Memories

[Flashback, 2 Years Ago]

"Stop!" I laughed, whacking him gently on the back of the head. "Stop wriggling around and keep your head under the water."

"It's really uncomfortable." he whined, craning his neck up at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Well if you keep looking up at me of course it's going to hurt you." I say, gently pushing his head to face down again.

"I can't help it;" he says cheekily, "You're too pretty not to look at."

I laughed lightly, a slight blush spreading up my cheeks. "That's not going to get you anywhere, Horan."

"Aw darn," he says teasingly, then wriggled out of my grip. "Okay, okay, my hair's sufficiently wet now."

"Okay," I say, reaching behind me to pick up the hairdye packet. "How do we do this?"

I carefully read the instructions, and then glance up to find Niall staring intently at me. His eyes are intense, and his mouth is quirked up mysteriously at the side. The water from his wet hair was dripping slowly down his face, and he made no move to wipe the clear drops away.

"Um," I say, slightly ruffled at the way he was looking at me. I quickly glance back to the packet, my face turning an even deeper shade of red. "I think I have to mix this into a paste and then smear it into your ha-"

I stopped talking, and looked up. He still hadn't said anything.

Flustered, I asked, "What?"

And then he reached for me, and pulled me across the edge of the bath tub. The palm of his hand held me firmly at the small of my back, keeping me from melting right off the edge, and I look up at him breathlessly, a little shocked at this turn of events.

"Uh..." I breathe, my chest rising and falling quickly now that we were this close. "Are we still dying your hair?"

"In time," he says, and his voice is hoarse, rough. His eyes are hooded, and he states intently at me, his eyes occasionally flickering quickly down my parted lips. "But first..." he breathes, and then leans in, until he is so close that our lips brush lightly together, but don't touch for longer than a second.

Our laboured breathing echoes in the small bathroom, and my hand comes up to stroke his neck. Our lips still aren't touching, but we're still just as close as we were. He leans in, and I catch my breath, but he turns his head suddenly, and kisses the edge of my mouth. A sound like a growl comes out of my throat, and I say roughly, "Goddammit Horan."

And then we're kissing, hard and passionately, as if the world was ending and there was nothing but us to hold it together. 

I pull away, breathing hard. My eyes search his face desperately, and I'm filled with longing and love for this silly boy in front of me. He meets my eyes, and grins lazily. 

"Okay," he drawls, his hand still warm on my back, "Now you can dye my hair." 

I laugh, and push him away, picking up the packet and throwing it at his head. He retailiates, and catches me around the waist, holding me tightly and not letting me go. He ducks his head down to meet my bowed one, and connects our lips once again. 

Breathlesss for the second time, I pull away. But this time, instead of seeing chesnut brown hair and striking blue eyes, I'm met with dark, chocloate eyes, and the dark brunette locks of Josh.

"Hey babe," he grins, and leans in to rest his forehead on mine. "Miss me?" 

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My eyes snap open, and I find myself breathing hard, my chest rising and falling quickly.

What the hell was that?

I touch my lips gently with the tips of my fingers, and find my mind wandering to the two boys that I keep cricling around - Josh and Niall.

Why am I finding it so hard to let both of them go? 

Sighing, and too tired to even think about it, I get out of bed, and start to get dressed to go see my mother. 

I wear her favourite dress on me, and comb my hair just the way she likes it. 

Numbly, I sit in the travelling car, silent as my father next to me. Our hands are clasped over the other, right in the middle of the console. I'm not going to lie, I was scared out of my mind. I hadn't seen my mother since my last visit, which was about 6 months ago. I didn't know what to expect to see when I saw her.

"Dad?" I asked, my voice hoarse.

"Yes dear?" he said gruffly, glancing over at me momentarily.

"Um," I hesitated, biting down on my lip hard. "does mom... what.... wh-what does she look like?"

My father chuckled bitterly. "She looks exactly as she always does Alayna," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Why do you think it took so long for us to get her to the hospital?"

"Oh." I said, biting my hangnail.

"She doesn't look like she's dying Alayna." he said plainly.

"I didn't..." I said, and stopped halfway through my sentence. If I was honest, that's exactly what I was being so afraid of. I was so scared I'd see those cancer patients they show you on television.

"Never mind." I said quietly, and ran a hand through my hair.

We pulled up to the hospital.

This was it.