STILL | NH |

THIRTY NINE

Rigby

I hadn't talked to Niall in three days.

It was not from my lack of trying but I also understood when he said that he needed space that me trying to bombard him with phone calls and text messages wasn't what he needed.

For someone who prides themselves on their intelligence I was one hundred percent a dumb bitch.

Mistake after mistake had been made on my part and I don't blame Niall for walking out, I would have walked out on myself if that was at all possible.

When he left, I cried.

And cried.

And then I managed to cry some more.

Desperate to apologize to him I called and texted him that first night, only for each call to go unanswered and each text to be left on read.

How could I have not realized what fucking time it was? How could I do that to him?

All I had to do was send him a message saying that I was running late, but I didn't.

LP Building called a last minute meeting by just showing up to the office, even though I had blocked out any appointments after four in order to be able to make it to dinner on time. So when he walked into my office as I was about to shut everything down and get ready to go home, there wasn't anything I could do but take a deep breath and just deal with it and know that hopefully it wouldn't last very long.

As I always was when it came to Liam Payne, I underestimated his willingness to be a decent human being. Time after time I tried to wrap it up, telling him that I had other places to be but he wouldn't hear any of it.

The stress of the meeting with him and the filing that I was working on in order to complete what needed to be done for the day after he left took over the thoughts in my brain, the next thing I knew Niall was standing in my doorway.

Forgetting to check the time was the nail in my coffin, I was sure of it. Niall had every right to be as angry as he was but that didn't mean that his words didn't cut deep, all the way to the bone.

He deserves better than I could ever give him.

Never had Niall deserved the way I've been forgetful or had forgotten plans of ours, not once.

He didn't deserve someone like me to love him, not when it seemed like I couldn't get my shit together enough to even show him that I loved him.

Fuck.

Everything was so fucked and it was all my fault.

When he was talking to me, even with his voice slightly raised, all I wanted to do was kiss him. To touch his body and feel it against mine.

He was everything to me and I was too much of a piece of shit to even show him that.

Even now, these three days later, a Saturday night and I'm still in my bed under the covers buried in a bed of tissues. It's the sound of my phone vibrating against the nightstand that grabs my attention, reaching out to grab it and feeling my heart deflate at the text from June, wishing it was the brunette Irish goofball.

June
Open the door, I know you are in there.

The corner of my lips turned up as I pulled the duvet off of my body, making my way to the door to open it and let her in.

"God, you look like shit." Her first words make me roll my eyes as I walk back into the apartment, heading straight for the couch and pulling a blanket around me. "Have you even showered?