Tell Me The Meaning of Love - Ziam/ Nouis/ Larry - One Direction (boyxboy)

Chapter diez-seis!

-------- 6 months later (it will go back in time after Niall's POV)---------------

Niall's POV:

I was dreaming. Dreaming where I'd lost all my friends and family. I was all alone and lost. No one to save me. Then i found a saviour. He saved me. Swept me off my feet. from this forsaken fortress. I used to call home. We fell in love. Our relationship wasn't perfect, it was rough around the edges. Until he fell in love again.

"Niall..... Niall... For gods sake Niall!!"

"hapbwat? Just let me rest in peace." I turned over. SMACK. OW! mother fucker that hurt! I opened my eyes to see what was going on. And why on earth I was leaning against the window of a car. I groaned, I'm being moved. Again.

"What's going on John?" He's like my personal driver. We've become close over the six months I've been away from the band. I had to get a new phone as well, well I changed the sim. I have the same phone. The guys kept blowing up my phone. And sending constant texts. Before I got my new sim, i counted up there calls and texts.

12 missed calls and 34 txts- Harry

18 missed calls and 26 txts- Zayn

26 missed calls and 40 txts- Liam

0 calls and 1 txt- Louis.

It was strange, I mean, I knew it was either gonna be Liam or... Scratch that I knew Liam was gonna go bonkers. And demand an explanation. But I didn't expect anything off Louis. So I deleted the texts off all the other guys, but sent Louis' text to my new sim. So I could read it, when i was ready. I'm not ready.

"Niall, we're moving you to my home country. Scotland." Yes my driver is Scottish. We're like opposites of each other, with his black shoulder length straight hair, 20 years of age, And my spiked up blonde hair, 19 years of age. Scottish and Irish. I glanced around the leather caging I call a car. The leather interior, was pushing in on me. Giving me a pounding headache.

"Jeez J, where's the paracetamol?" John pointed to a deep blue bag, with his head, nodding towards it. "tar." I reached over, unzipping the bag. It wouldn't budge. Oh c'mon! screw this. I forced it open. Thank the lord. I plunged my hand inside. My hand moving aimlessly about, a box yes that's it. I bought it out. i turned it around and stared at the label.

"Memories of me and the Guys"

I dropped the box. NO.

"J-j-John, w-w-why did y-you br-bring this?" I asked, incredulously. How could he? He knew I hated these tapes, with a vengeance. He stopped the car by the side of the road. He took the key out of the ignition, placing it in his pocket. Sighing, he yawned and stretched. I just sat and stared at him. Looking at him like he was made of cabbage.

"C'mon Niall we're here, I'll explain once we get in the house." With this, he got out and slammed the door. MY mouth opened, of its own accord, and my eyebrows receded. 'Sup with him?

By the time I'd found the paracetamol, taken it and got out of the car. John l was sitting on his suitcase, with mine next to it. Trying to find a signal. It was drizzling. Perfect, though I had taken a liking to rain. Some days I  just stood in the rain and let it soak me. All the way down to the bone. It gave me a sense of serenity and peace. Nothing else could give me this. When I'm inside, if there's rain against the windows, I stop whatever I'm doing and just stare out the window. I'm most likely to fall asleep. It's just so perfect.

"John, we really should get out of this weather." He coughed. "Told you so." Sending a glare in my direction, he out his phone in his pocket , taking both suitcases in his hand he led me to a stair way. I don't remember seeing this earlier. Then again I was having a mini rant of the effects of rain  *thumbs up*.