Never Forget [book one]

Chapter Twenty-Four

SUPRA is a shoe brand for those who do not realize.

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Niall's POV:

Liam, Louis, Zayn, and Harry were at the front door already; leaving me to be the last one out of the car. On a regular basis, I would have been the first in the house either because I was hungry or even tired. But today was different. My stomach was churning as I traipsed toward the open door of the house. Through my skin, I could feel the stuttering of my heart against my ribs.

When I was met with the warm atmosphere of the inside of the house, beads of sweat begun to build up on the palm of my empty hand. I wasn't hot at all, just really anxious.

I took a deep breath, putting my forehead on the cold sleek wall for comfort.

"Go get her, Nialler," Louis said, clapping me on the shoulder which had caused me to hit my nose against the wall. I winced, standing up straight at the foot of the staircase, turning slightly.

It was then that I noticed that I wasn't alone. Everyone was stood before me; eyes boring holes into my body as the center of their attention. Harry already had his arms around Addison. Something told me that they were no longer just friends. Then again, they could be just friends with benefits.

Zayn was leant against the wall smirking at me with his arms crossed. Louis was stood next to me with his hand still on my shoulder, smiling. Liam was at the door with Sophia in his arms. Sophia was covered in different colored paints, giggling. I didn't think she really knew what was going on, but then again I could be wrong, because she was a smart little girl. Then I wondered for a moment what Sophia had been doing covered in paint, but at the same time, I didn't care.

I just stared at everybody without having said a word. I ran my hand through my hair, and took one last glance at everybody, before starting up the stairs. My hands were trembling.

I wasn't sure what had gotten over me. But it was weird, because I've known this girl practically my whole life. Now, suddenly I was full of skepticism from the ends of my dirty blonde hair, to the soles of my shiny white Supras. Maybe it was because I was head over heels for her.

Everywhere upstairs was dark, except for the glow that spilt on the corridor floor from underneath the door at the end of the hall that was my bedroom.

I held my left hand up, as if I were going to knock on my own door. I laughed quietly, yet shakily, dropping my hand on the knob

But what if she was changing, I thought.

But she should have been ready by now, anyway... Besides it wouldn't matter if she was changing or not. I'm her boyfriend, not some 40 year old pervert, or even paparazzi.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Rosaline had heard me when I approached the door and opened it since I was taking eternity to come in.

My eyes met with the same green eyes that I was weak for.

"Well... You look handsome, as usual," Rosaline said eyeing me from head to toe.

I blushed. "As you look beautiful." It was an understatement, but the word seemed appropriate for the moment.

We just stared at each other, smiling and blushing for a few seconds.

"So you just gonna stand there? Or you are you going to hug me or something..." Rosaline said jokingly, trying to ease my nerves.

I laughed shakily, pulling my right hand from behind my back.

"A rose for my Rose," I smiled sheepishly. It was so corny, but she loves cliché things as such.