Broken Strings || Niall Horan [AU]

08 | demons

I choose this moment to interject. "Well done, Niall. Really." 

"All I did was speak," he laughs. He sighs, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. "I sure love being Irish," he says, and when he momentarily closes his eyes, I wonder if he's thinking of home.

We spend the next twenty minutes simply talking. Harry and I promise we'll coach Niall on how to do well in his job interview -- well, Harry will do most of the coaching, and I'll be there for moral support, because I've never had a job interview myself and I'm not sure I'd be of much help -- and Niall ponders what he'll buy when he's rich. He says he'll save up and pay to get the abandoned house painted all nice, and even offers for Harry and I to come live with him, which, of course, sends a vivid blush across my cheeks. I wish, I think. 

Eventually, we stumble out into the street, not because we've had too much alcohol -- I haven't even consumed any -- but because we're high on the dizzy feeling of contentedness that the last hour has brought upon us. We laugh and joke, tease and dance, and all is well until Harry turns back towards the pub, his hand reaching out to find a poster on the door. He lets out a long sigh and Niall and I fall silent. 

"What's wrong, Harry?" I ask, looking at his fingertips, which are stretched longingly across the poster.

"Read it," he says, moving his hand so that the poster is fully visible. Niall and I step closer. The poster contains a cartoon picture of a guy with a guitar and the words, in thick black font, 'BBB 2013 -- Coming this Summer, only at TLL.' 

"That's a lot of abbreviations," I mutter. 

"The triple B stands for Bournemouth Band Battle, and TLL is The Lucky Leprechaun," Harry explains. "This city's most prestigious music competition is being held here in just under three weeks, and holy shit, my band isn't even ready. I'm terrified."

"Wait, you're in a band?" Niall asks. 

"Yeah. We're called One Direction," Harry says. He looks at our expressions and rolls his eyes. "It makes us sound cheesier than we are." 

"I've been accused of being cheesy before," Niall says instantly, looking at me, no doubt remembering what I said to him when we first met. It was only yesterday, but it feels like a lifetime ago; like I've known him for so much longer than just one day. "But it's not so bad. Being cheesy is good, sometimes." He shrugs and I smile at him, before turning to Harry.

"You know, Niall writes his own songs, and he can sing. He's amazing," I say to the curly-haired boy. 

Harry raises his eyebrows. "Yeah, I remember now," he says after a pause. He directs his next words at Niall: "You had a guitar with you, didn't you? Back then. Well, if any of our members drop out, you'll be the first we come to. I mean, if that's okay with you."

Niall simply grins. 

After another three-way hug and a promise to stay in touch with Harry, we part ways; Harry strides off, whistling, and Niall and I stand still for a moment, deciding what to do next. "Come on. I'll walk you home," I say eventually. I don't want this night to end, but I suppose it has to at some point -- just like how the sun has to set, and that's what it's doing right now; slowly slipping downwards, inching towards the horizon. 

"No," Niall says, shaking his head. "I'll walk you home."

My first thought is that he's simply making this offer to be nice. Of course, it doesn't occur to me that he actually wants to spend more time with me. "No, it's okay. I live quite far away anyway; you really don't have to," I say, but Niall shakes his head again.