Introvert

8

'And from across

The crowded 

Room

I see you

Smile

Only at me.' ~ Tyler Knott Gregson

||Shyanna||

Philosophy goes fast after that. My meltdown means Anna and Kristy sit closer to me, whispering phrases to me to cheer me up. Anna even begins to write a small poem, although she has never been any sort of poet. She is the worst poet the world has ever seen, but she means the world to me, and so does everything she creates. So, I read aloud to make it seem more eloquent.

"Our love burns/ too bright for me to see it/ I cannot be blind but/ with your hands on my back/ guiding like a compass/ to my listing ship/ I will fall/ further than I fell for you/ and I will fall/ blindfolded." It's not bad, actually, is one of the most beautiful things I've ever read. I wonder now whether Anna is better than I thought at poetry, and I've been too busy falling down the rabbit hole too busy being Naive Alice to be the Cheshire Cat I could be. But, I would rather cry ugly tears, than have to act as if happiness comes naturally to me. Only with these two girls, however, does it ever come easy. Too many nights have been spent alone, fighting demons in my head with a figurative sword.

"Now, I want to hear your theories on keeping and maintaining happiness," sir says, before blinking at me. Irony. How British.

"Niall?" Sir says, as I slowly shake my head, panic rising in my chest. I've written only two lines; life is too often grey. Too often do we see the colour and say it does not fit. But know this; without the greys, blacks and the gloom, no landscape is complete. We paint ourselves, write ourselves, sometimes we just have to add the pain to make something real. Not eloquent, not beautiful, but it is true enough for me to look past that.

"Urm, right. Happiness is found and retained through being mindful of the beauty we see, and the way that colours rise in our dying eyes. We're always happy, sometimes it's just buried deep under the crust of who we are. We must surround ourselves with colour and dismiss the greys to retain happiness."  He says, before a rosy hue colours his cheeks.

"Cute," Kristy comments softly, smiling. I frown. It isn't. It isn't cute. It's optimistic, not realistic. It's not true. Not right. Eloquent and well put, perhaps, but not true. Or maybe I'm the only one who thinks that, because Sir gives a gigantic smile and laughs, clapping his hands, chanting yes over and over.

"It's wrong," I mumble, shuffling my feet as she gives me an incredulous glance. Then her eyes soften.

"Darling, it does get better," she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, between my eyes. I roll my eyes at her. 

"Anyone have anything to say about that?" Mr Garrick asks, giving a glance around, as if challenging us to say anything bad about the statement. And, suddenly, as if by magic, I raise my hand, and he gives a shocked glance. I can do this. I am so wonderful. It's a pathetic lie, and I don't believe it for a second. I am not wonderful.

"Yes, actually." And am I right? Does Niall catch his breath as I stare directly into his blue eyes, giving a small shrug and a soft smile as I begin to talk. Appropriately apologetic.

"Niall, although that's eloquent, and wonderful, and hopeful, and embodies everything I want in life, it is neither true nor makes me want to carry on any more than a good joke does. Happiness is found in ourselves, the ability to look for people who embody everything we want and need to retain sanity. Sometimes, we lose ourselves, our being turns towards the wrong track, and that's okay. Unhappiness is okay, but you imply it's not. I'm not saying it isn't beautiful, Niall, because life and the people who surround us, they are. Everything is beautiful, even pain in a way. But you act as if unhappiness is distinctly not okay, accutely ignoring the fact that it exists. No one is always happy, either, and I'm sorry for dissecting every wonderfully poetic word you've written, because I love the sentiment, and I love poetry, but. It's so wrong. It's so, so wrong. Happiness may come easy sometimes, in the moments life becomes a glowing ball of it, never burning out. But then it does, the flame goes out, and sometimes, so do we. So, yes, trying to banish the grey is a good idea, but it isn't always possible. People with depression would disagree with that. But, honestly, the sentiment is wonderful. It is beautiful, and it makes my heart soar and thud harder because it's so great, but then I stop for a moment, and the bleakness returns. Life is painted with grey, Niall, and sometimes we just need to look deeper to find the colour." I say, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"But we needn't look further than within ourselves, below the unhappiness. Everyone is unhappy, but we are fans of masks." I end, and Kristy swallows as she stares at me. This is the most I have talked outside of our group in years, and they both know it. Anna clutches desperately at my leg, tears trickling down her face. I reach instinctively towards it, wiping it away as she sniffs, smile wide on her elfin face.

"D-does anyone have anything else to say?" Sir asks, staring at me as if I'm some sort of alien. 

"Fuck." Niall whispers, and grins so wide I almost smile back. Almost.

||Niall||

Her voice is strong, soft and mellow. There is no anger. But what keeps me so still, so solid in my seat despite Louis digging my back, is the fact her eyes are trained solely on mine. She has blocked everything out, for this moment, and my heart thumps at the thought of it, the thought that right now, I am all her attention is concentrated on. The thought makes my stomach flutter.

"You can all go now, I guess." Sir says, after a moment. I swallow and quickly begin packing my things up, Louis whispering rapidly into my ear as I stuff my book into my bag. 

"Oh, my God, she actually talked to you-"

"I know, Louis." I say, glaring at him as she moves past, thanking sir softly before walking out with Anna and Kristy swarming up in her space. I wonder if that's what the lads and I look like, or if it represents Louis and Harry more than all of us. Probably the latter.

"But she was sad and then she almost smiled-"

"I fucking know, you buttpumpkin." I growl, shoving him towards the door as sir nods happily at us.

"Harry would have made a joke about my butt." Louis says, rolling his eyes and I snort. How the fuck are they not dating yet? They're both as in love with each other as I am with Shyanna.

The only difference is that me and Shyanna would never happen.

"Yeah, whatever," I mutter, walking down the stairs haughtily.

The thing is, the whole lesson was a rollercoaster. It made me want to vomit, made me happy, angry, sad. But mostly, it made me feel that my love for Shyanna wasn't completely pointless. There is a point to loving her, because she is so lovely. She is so strong and genuine, doesn't stand for shit. She lets people take care of her, but doesn't always depend upon them. And as masochistic as it is, I want to be the one person whom holds her up. I want to be her main source of light, even if I come after Anna and Kristy. Mostly, I want to kiss her soft lips and feel her melt into my hold, and I want to watch her mumble poetry as she walks along, the way I have seen a handful of times. I want to hold her and call her mine, but I can't. Because I'm just Niall Horan, and she is the radiant sun. I am Pluto, and she is the Earth. People need her to live, but she needs no one. But I want to be the one thing she does need, is that so wrong?

Please comment, vote, follow and stalk as you wish. (no the last line is not from strong hush)