Something New // Niall Horan

Jess

Head pounding, I stumbled my way into the kitchen and fixed a hot mug of tea for myself.

"Cara-"

And then I remembered.

"Damnit!" I yelled, my temper getting control over me. My hand slammed down on the table, Noah's sleep temporarily forgotten. Even though I had recently thought about moving back to Mullingar, my consciousness not completely realizing Cara's absence.

I rubbed at my temples, overly flustered and just damn angry, until I became aware of Noah's wail.

"Oh, Noah," I mumbled, rushing to aid my son. I scooped him up in my arms, keeping him safe and clutching him close to my bare chest. I departed from the den crib and helped him hold his mother's blouse as would any other child with their teddy bear.

Noah did, in fact, have a bear; or rather, a dog. The ears were worn and a greyish indigo, the rest being a dullish shade of blue. It had a mahogany-red collar and a darker spot on the rump. Unfortunately, he'd not taken to it quite as movingly as he did to the warm, thick blouse I had wrapped him in.

White drawstring sweats and Calvin Klein boxers were all I wore, my bare feet padding against the dark linoleum of the kitchen as I moved to get him his morning milk. The milk-warmer was already heating his meal, as I'd pre-set it many nights ago to do so at a certain time.

"Shh, shh," I murmured, bouncing back and forth on the balls of my feet to try to rock him down a bit. He did, in fact, quiet, but it was short-lived, for once again his weak, infant hands dropped Woosel, the dog.

As I bent down to grab it, I heard the heater beep.

"Ah, shi- oot. Shoot," said I, fixing myself quickly. I should probably break myself out of the habit of cursing, so Noah doesn't pick up on it.

Truly, I have no clue why it's considered bad for children to curse. "Bad words"? Why are they looked down upon like they are?

Shaking myself off, I knew it was the best for Noah if I were to refrain from uttering certain syllables around him. Even though he's still so young, I might as well get in the habit.

"Here ya go, Noah," I murmur, letting Noah drink from the now-warm bottle of milk that, right before, I'd tested the temperature of.

"Mur-gk," he cooed before slurping down the nutritional liquid.

/Ding! Ding!/

I heard the buzzer from downstairs call.

Hastily I strode to the button and speaker near the front door, pressing it with my left while holding Noah with my right, as well as his bottle and stuffed dog, I shifted my weight impatiently.

/What now?/

What if it's..?

I swear to God, if it's fucking Chris I'll rip his head from his shoulders and feed it to-

"Hey Niall," I heard Jess' cheery tone from the other end of the line. "Mind buzzing me up? Cara'd like her things." There was something else-fear? No, not fear; nerves, maybe?

I realized only once Jess had repeated my name several times that I'd been standing there, far too afraid and in my thoughts, to answer.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sure," I hastily said. The "let 'em up" button, which was to the right of the speaker, was pressed and I had to find it in me to wait.

The quiet /sluck sluck/ of Noah's drinking calmed me a bit before finally, Jess knocked on the door.

"Hiya," she chirruped with a facade of cheer when I cracked the dark, warm mahogany door open.

"Hi," I muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

"Awe, hey baby," she cooed, her brown eyes lighting up as she squinted them at Noah. Her arms were full of at least four empty boxes shoved one within another.

"Um," I resisted the urge to roll both my eyes and shoulders at her, "Cara's stuff?"

"Oh, right." Her face fell. "Sorry." She strode through the doorway and past me, to the bedroom filled with Cara's things. /Where we once slept,/ I thought grimly.

Shutting the door, I followed her back into the main area of the flat, then stopped.

I fed Noah a bit more before aiding Jess, by getting her clothes from the hamper and her pictures off the fridge, all into a large cardboard box.

I was about to unwrap Cara's last article of clothing from around my little bundle when I remembered that first night, and sighed.

/She won't miss it/, I hoped. Wishful thinking was never the easiest for me, but neither was being around babies but I'd seemed to get that under control pretty well.

"Well, I'm outta here," Jess finally declared, although I could sense there was something else she wanted to say. A plea from Cara, maybe? Pfft.

Fortunately, Jess knew I didn't want to hear it and quickly ushered her out.

The moment before I shut the door she said, "She'll want to see him, you know."

"I know," I glumly answered, my hope beyond hope of Jess not saying anything instantly crushed.

"Good," she quipped before shutting the door herself.

I suppose I could've helped her carry it all down, but that would've left more time for her to say things I didn't want to hear and make me admit things I didn't want to say.

Jess could always do that, and it bothered me.

It was none of her business, whatever she wanted to know from me or say; even though Cara most likely has told her by now.

Fucking hell.

I took a tylenol before continuing on in my day and drinking my now-cold tea.





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