Hope you guys like this one! I'm taking requests btw
I’ve been sitting at the side of the sidewalk since nine in the morning. It’s six o’clock now. My fingers are practically numb from strumming my guitar, my voice starting to crack from overuse. I glance down into the case opened in front of me and feel the tiredness settle over me like a heavy cloud, and my eyes burn. The case is nearly just as empty as it was this morning. I stare at the few bills, counting quietly. Twenty-four. That’s the outcome of nine long hours on the street. Twenty fucking four. I close my eyes and huff out a breath through my nose as I slide the guitar strap from my shoulders. All I can here in my mind as I pack up is her disappointed sigh. I know you’re trying Ni… It’s just not enough. I flinch at the thought. A woman passes just as I’m slinging my guitar onto my shoulders like a backpack and I rush to tap her shoulder. She jumps, her eyes frightened when they meet mine.
I try to offer her a friendly smile, but she takes a step back. I know I must look like shit, scary even. The water was cut off in our home two days ago and it’s affecting us more than I could ever have thought.
“M-Ma’am, I’m sorry for startling you but if you could just spare some change, a note or two even-“
“No, I’m sorry.” She mumbles, not meeting my eyes.
“No please, me and my girlfriend-“ But she’s already gone, hurrying around the corner. I look down at the bills squashed in my hand. That’s in Niall? Baby… We can’t- it isn’t enough…
I run my hands through my hair, frustrated, and start the short walk home. I shove my left hand deep in my pocket and continue staring at the crinkled pieces of paper. I consider staying longer, going back and asking more people for money just so I don’t have to see the disappointment in me drift into her eyes. It cracks my heart and makes my chest ache. But I can’t. I’m already late for dinner. If there is dinner. The buildings I pass slowly get smaller, dirtier. They go from quaint houses or apartments with flowers blooming in the window boxes, mail shoved in the mailboxes. I count countless of magazine subscriptions. Expensive ones too and I recognize some of the titles from Y/N when she gazes at them whenever we pass by the shops on some of our late night walks. I glance around once I come up to another with various booklets sticking out, before swiping the most colorful one. I know she hates when I steal for her, but it’s always been petty things like this. I’ve never actually stolen more then a pack of gum or a can of soup from a store. I grip it in my hand and hope to god it’s one she likes. The buildings shrink into the familiar shabby flats that I recognized as our street. I come to our home and take a deep breath before opening the door.
“Love? I’m home.”
She rounds the corner from the kitchen, a smile making her glow. I feel my face soften at the sight of her. I know I haven’t been able to give her anything she deserves. I know she wishes for more. I know these things and I thank god everyday when I wake up every morning with her wrapped around me and feel my heart momentarily lighten every time she gives me a long hard kiss. There’s always that little voice in my head that tells me that one morning, I could wake up alone.
“Hi baby.” She’s throwing her arms around my neck seconds after I’ve slid my guitar to the floor and mine instantly find her hips. We hold each other close for a few moments, and I’m cherishing this time before I have to see the disappointment in her eyes when I tell her. She pulls back, still smiling and her hands cradle my face. I grin back and lean forwards. Our lips slot together perfectly and for a moment, I can’t remember anything but the way her lips feel.
