Niall Horan Imagines 2

Space (Request)

Those hot, endless days were empty. My footsteps on the carpet were slower, my fingerprints on the fridge handle increasing. I watched those movies, read those books, and touched those picture frames that I had a million times a million more times, trying to bring back memories of the times when I knew how to steer myself. 

My eyelids saw more than I did. The crater on my bed grew deeper with every toss, every turn, every wakeful, starless night. The ends of my hair limped towards the floor, becoming as ragged as the edges of my fingernails. 

And that made me remember her. I tried to feel her fingertips on my chest, attempting to imagine they had been inviting instead of the opposite. It never worked. Nothing did after she'd told me to give her space. 

How much space? For how long? Define space. The endless void or a few weeks? A few inches or six? Rose?

When remembrance of her eyelashes sprang into my mind, I wanted to let myself smile. But I'd lost the instructions to that part of me not shortly after I'd misplaced that manual about how to think in coherent thoughts. 

And as soon as I let the sound of her laughter get absorbed by that growing darkness inside of me, I knew I'd found a page -- probably only a few words, actually -- of some key to myself once more. It worked well enough even though the remainder of the pages were in her hands. 

My fingers twitched, longing to touch her skin just once more but knowing that I'd still want more even after that. I couldn't let the memory of her fade like I'd let myself fade. Both needed to be renewed sooner rather than later. 

I pushed my twitching fingers through my hair, trying to turn my brain on. I had to think. How could I see her again? What memories were fading the most? How was I going to kiss her once more? 

I guess I'd been so focused on myself that I'd let her start to melt away, and I couldn't think of anything but myself when I was forcing my body to come up with some sort of plan. But that still worked because even though I didn't want to move anymore than I already had, I couldn't let her go. I couldn't let her just fade. And I knew that I couldn't let her have her space anymore or I would have disintegrated until I didn't take anymore space. 

I wasn't going to let it happen, and something kind of like a idea sprung up from that. 

I slowly began to come back to the land of the living, so focused on her that I didn't remember to let myself decay. I began thinking in mostly coherent thoughts once more, finding myself staring down into a bowl of cereal eventually. 

I was digging around in a stack of paper that I hadn't remembered forming for the phone number when I found something. I read over it a few times, not having played back that memory for quite some time. I put the receipt down, suddenly remembering how to smile because I couldn't stop if I'd wanted to try. 

She'd bought that stupid shirt for me a while back, making sure to include the receipt in case I really hated it. I opened the box, and I didn't care if I did kind of hate how stupid it was, all I cared about was how cute she'd been when she'd laughed so hard she cried and how I couldn't stop myself from doing the same. 

And that propelled me even further. I found the phone number, dialing it without a second thought. 

"Niall?" I heard her say. I hesitated, traces of that grin hindering my ability to form words for a second. 

"Hi, Melody," I got out, having to cough shortly after. I guess I'd also forgotten the sound of my own voice. It had grown unimportant. 

"Why are you calling?" she wondered, and I myself needed that question answered. "I thought she wanted you to give her space." I furrowed my eyebrows, staring down at the floor. How long did those words entail? Was a few weeks not enough? I didn't care if it was anymore, honestly.