Pesy One Shots

I was a little left out, but I'm not anymore

A/N: Title taken from The Cure by Little Mix. Couldn't help myself:)

Also, the video at the top has nothing to do w the story. It's just Pesy being cute💚

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"What do you mean you've never been to the county fair?" I ask, absolutely baffled. Everyone's been to the county fair. Hell, even my dog's been to the county fair. Twice.

"We just never went," Jesy says, giving me a small smile. "Never had the time or the money, with all the shit that went down with my dad. The "Nelson spawn" weren't exactly welcome around the Romford county fair."

I'd do anything to wipe the sad, quiet look from her face.

"Well, you're not in Romford anymore, love. Plus, I'd imagine the Romford county fair is a bit shit," I say with a laugh. "Can't imagine you missed much. And, you're gonna be an Edwards in a few months anyway so... Let's go!" I say, swinging our hands where they're linked between us.

She smiles at me, brighter this time. I was a little worried at first about who would take who's name, as I'm quite fond of my surname, but Jesy was happy to take my name. She's got no attachment to being a Nelson, anyway.

"Don't you think we're a bit old?" She asks, wrinkling her nose.

"You're never too old for the fair! That's like being too old for Santa!" I say, incredulity coloring my tone.

Jesy laughs. "Perrie, Santa's not-"

"Ah! I can't hear you! La la la la la!" I yell, pulling my hands up to cover my ears.

She laughs at me, planting a sloppy kiss to my cheek. "Whatever you say, babe."

"Come on! You've got to believe in him, Jes. He's magic. And Christmas isn't the same without magic!" I plead.

"I haven't believed in him since I was 6, Perrie. When I waited up all night and he never came and my mum had to explain that we hadn't done anything wrong- sometimes Father Christmas just can't work it all out, cause money can be tight even for him, and some kids get less than others. My dad came in stumbling drunk while I was trying not to cry, and told me that maybe I'd have gotten a gift if I wasn't such a whiny little brat. Then he told me Santa wasn't real and got sick all over the tree skirt," she says, expression hard, before her gaze softens when she looks at me. "But for you, love, he can be real."

I stop our walk down the street to take Jesy in my arms and squeeze her as hard as I can, as if I can squish out all the bad memories. My parents' relationship was far from perfect, but I never doubted that either of them loved me, that they wanted the best for me. "Well, he's coming this year, so be ready for that," I say, pecking firm kisses to her cheeks until she's giggling and batting me away.

"Sure he is," she says, though I can see she doesn't really mean it. I can't blame her. It's a dreadful thing to get your hopes up when you're only ever met with disappointment. "But we don't have to worry about that now. It's only June."

"Exactly! Which is the perfect time to go to the fair!" I say, jumping up and down a bit, though I try to refrain. Jesy just laughs at my childish display.

"Let's go then," she says, smiling.

She seems a bit guarded the whole drive there, as if she's expecting something will happen to prevent us from reaching our destination.

She lets out a breath once we pull into the parking lot, looking in cautious awe at the less-than-sturdy rides and flashing lights and funhouses.