paper || n.h

chapter one.

                           ❝ Trust is like paper, once it's crumpled, it

                               can never be restored back to perfection.❞

The rain splattered against the window, creating a rather soothing sound. With the thunder and lightening going on outside, most would think a natural disaster was going on. But not to me, I loved the rain, I loved the storms. They take you out of reality, well, to me they do; some may think that storms are just catastrophes, vanishing into the thin atmosphere when they are done. That's the society's view point, and who gives a shit about what society has to say? My fingers ran over the velvet-y fabric of the couch that I silently laid on. My parents were away, for their anniversary, I think. The electric was cut off by the storm, so I was left powerless. The only source of light came from the candle that dimly lit the room. I hummed out a couple notes of my favourite song Hold On Till May by Pierce The Veil.  I lazily shifted my position, standing up, not knowing where my feet were taking me. I heard a loud bump from the flat next door, I subtly jumped at the noise. We had gotten new neighbours last week, my mum and dad had them over. Mr. and Mrs. Horan? if I'm correct. They had a son, Niall Horan, who was supposedly coming home at a later time, I learned he was my age, nineteen, both of us legal adults but still in the nest so to speak. Another loud crash cane from the flat. A loud groan escaped my lips as I walked towards the flat door, slipping into my slippers.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I waited for the door to open, for someone to let me in. A band of thunder erupted from the sky, causing me to fall and cover my head.

“Are you okay?" I felt hands tug on my arms, pulling me up. I nodded, looking into the man's eyes. I couldn't help but notice that it wasn't just any man, it was Niall Horan. “Were you knocking on my door?" He let go of my arms, crossing his. I hummed in response, another clash of lighting with thunder following, took sequence behind me. I couldn't help but jump at the distracting noise.

“I liked it inside better." I huffed, Niall chuckled.

“Then go back to your flat smart one." Well wasn't somebody rather rude? My forehead creased, creating frown lines as I stared at him.

“I was coming over here to ask you if you could keep the thumping to a minimum." I turned around walking back next door. I turned the knob, but it didn't turn.

“Shit." I hissed banging on the door. I heard a snicker come from next door. My head snapped towards the certain blondie. I shuffled back to his flat.

“I um, sorta, maybe accidentally locked myself out of my flat...."

“I see that dumbass."

“Well?" I tapped my foot, waiting for him to let me inside.

“Well what?" He mimicked my tone, I huffed.

“Couldn't you at least act like a gentlemen and offer me a place to stay for an hour or two?" He seemed to go deep in thought, asking himself.

“Probably should." He shrugged, I smirked in victory. “But doesn't sound interesting to me." I felt my mouth pop open, what a bastard!

“Come on! Where's your mum and dad? They'd let me in!" I hissed, his head fell back as fits of laughter spilled from his mouth.

“My mum and dad don't live here! They live back in Mullinger, they just offered to set the place up so I wouldn't have to do so much when I got home from tour. Wow, are you really that stupid? Who are you anyways?"

“Why should I tell you Niall?" His cocky grin faded.

“Because, I have the power to let you into my flat, that or you can stay oh  here and die from hypothermia."

“Let's make a deal; you let me in, I tell you my name, and I get to stay as long as I want, Niall."

“Stop saying my name, you're creeping me out because I don't know yours. Why should I agree to this plan?" I could feel the heat from inside wavering out, and fanning my face.

“But you have your fans calling you Niall all the time," I paused and smirked seeing him shift uncomfortably, “I could tweet, and all that shit that Pop star Niall Horan has just moved in next door, 68 Willowbrook Avenue, Willowbrook Flats, London." A scowl settled on his face, obviously he didn't like the idea of black mail.

“Fine! Fine!" He cleared the doorway, letting me in." I smirked in satisfactory, taking in the looks of his flat. Royal blue walls, granite counter tops, khaki looking furniture. “Have a seat." He said sarcastically.

“Thanks." I sat in a leather recliner. “Going to tell me your name Mrs. Blackmail?" Niall sat on the khaki coloured couch.

“Angelina."

an: I didn't really know how to end it because this was my third time rewriting it oopsies (:

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I'd like to thank everybody who did so on the first part! I've had so much support just over a few words!

here's to midnight memories xxx

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