I Missed You

     *Hey, my lovelies! Please, no stealing my ideas or situations in this story. Copyright! But anyway, I hope you enjoy!   ~Maegan :)

                                                               MAEGAN'S POV:

      "Niall, no!" I screamed. He ran towards me, arms wide. He was completely covered in mud, and was only twelve years old.

      "Maegan, yes!" he exclaimed, mocking my tone. I began to run as fast as I could, until I stopped for a quick second, thinking I had lost him, when he came out from practically nowhere, and he picks me up and embraces me, covering me in mud. He strokes my hair, coating it in mud. He rubs my shoulders, soaking them in mud.

 

     I laugh and scream at the same time and I run my muddy fingers through his new blonde hair, which didn't look so blonde at the moment.

 

     "I hate you so much!" I shouted.

  

 "No, you actually love me, whether you want to or not," Niall smirked, picking me up and giving me a piggy back ride back to my front yard.

                                                                                       • • •

     I woke up, a smile plastered on my face. I missed those days, back before Niall had become famous. We had been best friends since we were four, which is when I moved to Mullingar from America, and I still remember the day he told me he was going to audition for the X Factor. I remember watching him on the TV when he was put into a band, all of his performances, when they went home, taking third place. I remember him calling me that night. He was so upset, and he was nearly crying, and I did cry.

     We had kept in touch for three long years through texting, calling, and video chatting when we had the time, but I missed hearing his laugh in person. I missed seeing his blue eyes twinkle. I miss feeling him pull me into a hug. I missed him. A lot.

      "Maegan, finish packing your bags, darling!" my mom called from the kitchen, where she was washing dishes.

      I was accepted into the University of London, and I would be moving there. Early tomorrow morning, I would be on a plane. I stroll into my room and glance around. Posters of Niall and the other band members were stripped off of my walls carefully and were put into a binder so I could hang them up in my new flat. I was pretty lucky to say that my best friend, erm, old best friend's face was plastered into posters in every teen magazine out there.

     The fact that I just called him my 'old best friend' made me want to cry. Would he still consider me his best friend? Or is Liam, Louis, Harry, or Zayn his best friend now? I had tried so hard to find someone like him, but nobody could take his place, and no one was just like him.

     We protected, encouraged, and helped each other. We were so similar, but yet we had our differences. But we introduced each other to new things. He knew so much about me and vise versa. We saw each other so often.