Dreaming- A Niam Fanfiction

Love and hate.

I'm sorry for being a little late, I had some busy things and stuff. Please forgive me :c

I hope y'all like this new chappie c:

Please comment, your thoughts and opinions make me happy c:

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Niall

I tighten my grip on the book, biting my lip and letting my eyes scan the words.

Hot tears are rolling down my cheeks, burning my skin and leaving small trails behind, looking like lost rivers.

My nails pierce deeper into the book's cover, and leave small dents behind.

I don't even know why I'm crying.

It isn't a sad book, or a sad story.

The words placed on the thin paper don't even touch me that much.

I'm reading the words, but I just can't read the story.

It's like my brain is messing everything up, turning it into other stories.

Stories I recognize, but do not fully know.

Pianomusic is playing in the background, leaving a open but at the same time closed atmosphere.

It's like the music pierces right through my heart, leaving beautiful wounds behind.

I don't even know what I'm thinking.

It's just that music has an effect on me that nothing else has.

Music can make me remember.

Liam and I have been making a lot of music together lately.

It's my escape.

And I guess it's Liam's escape too.

We're escaping together, getting away from a place we don't want to be.

What is that place?

Why don't we want to be there?

To be honest, I don't even know what my own place is.

I don't know where I'm running away from, neither do I no where I want to go.

But it doesn't even matter where I run actually.

I'm always stuck in between.

Tearing my eyes away from the pages of endless words, I look up, taking a glance into the room I'm in.

It's almost completely dark.

A dimmed light is shining from a small lamp next to me, making it possible for me to read the words written down.

But I'm not reading anymore.

Instead, I'm thinking.

Something I've always done a lot more than most people do.

Well, I don't really know how other people think, but judging by how Greg talks about it, I probably think more than that.

Greg's gone home.

He still has a job, and he can't stay with me forever.

He told me he would call every day.

He didn't.

After three days, he stopped calling me every day.

I felt sad, but at the same time, I didn't do anything about it.

I didn't grab the phone to call him, no, I just waited for him to do that.

And that way the time got slower, and the days passed without him talking to me.