Introvert

14

'All I really want

Is to roll over to you

And tell you all my dreams' ~ Tyler Knott Gregson

||Niall||

"I'm in your chemistry, right?" She asks, and I smile at her with a nod. Her eyes go cute and wide, and her lips fall into an 'o'. She's so beautiful, so endlessly gorgeous, and I hate that she doesn't see it. She doesn't see herself as I see her, but then I don't see myself as she must see me. The loud, obnoxious guy who annoys her, probably. 

"We can talk and walk, then?" She questions, and I grin, knowing my braces are on full display, that I probably look repulsive as fuck, but I don't mind. I love Shyanna. And if she doesn't love me, that's fine. I can be who I want to be. I just also need my ocean to support my ship.

"Okay." I respond, gentle, prying. I want to talk to her, want to know why she ever tried to hurt herself. I want to know why she was crying in Philosophy. And I want to know if she loves anything. I want to see the smile she gets when she speaks of poetry.

"Where to start?" She asks, biting her lip. I swallow. There is nothing, except perhaps ever-lasting happiness, that I want more than to feel that lip on mine. I want to kiss her, deep and slow, and I want to compliment her as she cries. I want to make her laugh when she doesn't want to.

"Why were you smiling yesterday?" I blurt, smacking myself internally for asking something so personal.

"Kilig." She responds, chirping like a bird given a place to fly. 

"What." It would be a question, but I'm so confused I can't even lilt my accent to fit the concept of questioning.

"Kilig." She repeats, eyes blinking gently. Her eyelashes sweep over her cheeks, they're so long. In this moment, as she whispers a word I don't know the meaning of, as she glances at me from under her lashes, I feel myself drowning. The nights that were so cold fade from memory as she shrugs, the nights I spent wondering why she would ever hurt herself rush backwards, and I love her. I want to touch her and hold her and learn every word she knows. I want to be the one to make her laugh. I want to be the one who saves her from herself.

"I don't know what that means." I say, with a haughty scoff.

"I do." She's cocky as fuck, I realise. She's not just the shy, introverted girl who stays out of the way. She's a shy, introverted girl who hurts herself but loves with her whole soul and brags with her whole body. And I love her, stupid amounts.

"Of course you do." I mumble, and she laughs. And it's like a bolt of electricity sizzles up my spine, because the sound alone sets off hundreds of thousands of nerve receptors, all telling me pretty sound really pretty sound wow. 

And. Somewhere along the line, I fell out of being a child, and became an adult. Somewhere, I started smiling more, laughing more, and wanting to hear a laugh more. And now, as I glance where she walks, the way her toes are bare in open-toed shoes, I can't help but think I want to see them curled. I want to have her slender but toned arms around me, and Jesus Christ, I want to know her. I want to know her like nobody else. I want to know what she looks like when she comes out of a shower, I want to know what she looks like when she's at the beach. I want to know what it's like to have a canvas painted with grey so near one with colour. But most of all, I want Shyanna Rockley to look at me like I'm the sun and she's the moon, like I am the light in the darkness. And, fuck, it's so conceited, but I want her to realise just how much I care, how perfect I am for her. But, fuck, mostly, I just want Shyanna Rockley to feel whole again.

||Shyanna||

He's so serene, after he makes me laugh, so gentle and quiet and delicious. He's so lovely, endlessly wonderful, and I'm the opposite. So as he parts ways with me to step into our chemistry class, to find his seat next to a gaping Zayn Malik, I slide into my seat next to Anna and know I am not good for him. Darkness does not ease, it complicates. Someone so bright, someone with their own warm sun, should never talk to me. And although I initiated it, I know I shouldn't. Because every word spoken to Niall Horan feels like one more grey stroke on his canvas, and he deserves only sunshine. I'm the earth, filled with hatred and love, and he's the universe, elegant in intricacy and balance, and so stunning it aches deep in my chest.

So, as I watch the teacher begin the talk of the experiment we'll complete today, I know I will have to cut Niall out of my life, but I know I will be glad I took this one last chance to talk to him.

okay this is spectacularly short but I was very uninspired. PLUS this is a filler. The next part will take place two days later (because it's taken me 14 parts to write two days already...). It gets very exciting very fast. So. Follow, comment, vote and stalk wonderfully, my little sunshines!! I love you <3