Chapter Seventeen

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“Are you insane woman? What the bloody hell was that for?!” Niall demands as he stands from the fetus position he has been for the past minute or two, holding onto his damaged side for support.

My eyes widen in return, the fear I had experienced quickly descending into surprise and regret.

“What do you mean ‘what was that for’? You just scared the living shit out of me by sneaking up on me like that. It’s your fault!” I reply back, trying to explain my reasoning for hitting him with the stick.

“I was trying to get your attention, but I would have just called your name if I would have known you’d be violent,” He winces at the lingering pain in his side and frowns.

“Yeah, that would have been a better idea instead of grabbing me from behind on a lonely park with no one in sight,” I say.

“Noted,” He replies, letting go of his side and standing up straight.

I puff out a sigh, making a wry face and looking anywhere but him.

“I didn’t know you were going to come back either, so,” I add, bringing in the dreaded conversation slowly.

“Yeah well, I waited for a while but you didn’t show so I called you and you didn’t answer, so I went to your house and you weren’t there, so I             decided to come back here in case you’d be here, which is now,”

“I kind of fell asleep and woke up later than expected,” I admit.

“I figured. I don’t think this is the normal attire that’d you wear out of your house, especially not those old frog slippers,” He chuckles, pointing at the massive green pair of 

 scuffs I was wearing.

“Hey! These are classics, not just because they’re five years old, but because they hold special meaning behind them too,” I say.

“Claire, I bought those for you at the mall because you were whining that you needed them,” He clarifies, reminding me of the forgotten memory that has been shelved away and brought back in seconds.

“Another reason to love them,” I boldly admit, half smiling at the grin that appears on Niall’s face after my words.

And just like that, nothing is said after that, and we fall into a very uncomfortable silence for what seems to be at least five minutes, but probably is seconds; the sound of crickets and moving cars from the street being the only sound heard.

I don’t know what to say first and I know he’s struggling with his words too, both of us staring at the uninteresting things around us and avoiding eye contact with each other.

“So-”

“I-”

When we finally manage to speak, we both talk over each other, falling back into silence as it happens.

“Sorry, go ahead,” I say, motioning for him to continue.

“Ladies first,” he replies, and I almost giggle at how ridiculous that sounds coming from his mouth. He appears to see it too, for a small smirk forms on his lips.

“I was just going to ask how tour went,”

“Good,” he says, and lingers on the words before he speaks again.

“The boys missed you, especially El. I don’t think she liked being the only girl around.”

I nod, signaling my complete attention.

It’s not like I expected him to fully come out and say how much he missed me too, but I kind of hoped it would be implied as well.

I, in the other hand, had missed him terribly. I whined about it to my mom a lot, constantly telling her about him and sometimes I even found myself talking to myself, other times his face and voice would repeatedly play in my head.

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