Will you love me one day? | Niall Horan

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

M O L L Y
January 2018

"Hey Molly, this guy, who doesn't really need introduction is Niall Horan." Freya chirped behind me joy tripping from her voice.

I swallowed, but my throat remained dry. My desperate gaze searched for a escape from the wall in front of me, but there was no place to hide. I had to face this situation, I had to face him. And I had to do it professionally, with dignity.

"Niall this is Molly Andersson, she also studies journalism." Freya introduced me to Niall once I hesitantly had turned around. I didn't dare to look at him, bye bye dignity. My eyes rounded as I caught the door lurking behind them. There was the escape, screaming for my name. Screaming for me to run and leave this awkward moment behind.

But I was paralyzed. I couldn't move a limb or get a word out of my mouth. I could feel color draining from my face, turning me as white as a ghost. My ability to breathe slowly faded along with the lockdown that was taking over my body. Deep breaths Molly, maybe he didn't even remember me. But what if he did? Sudden urge to peek at him grew inside me but my body fought my brain, not alowing me to move my head.

"Molly, are you okay?" Freya's eyebrows curled as she walked closer to me.

I opened my mouth but all the air was gone from my lungs. I croaked, trying to word something, just anything but no. I was stunned, unable to speak. Unable to do anything.

"Molly you are starting to freak me out," Freya placed her hands on my shoulders, gently shaking me. I locked my eyes with hers and swallowed, trying to clear my throat.

"Water. I need water." I finally managed to rasp out.

She nodded, concerned look on her face. "Yeah of course, the toilets are there." She motioned towards the hallway on our left.

I stumbled past her, keeping my head down to avoid Niall's gaze. I had no idea how he reacted, if he even recognized me and I didn't want to know. I could hear his rapid breathing as I passed him, and for a slight second I wanted to give in and throw myself into his arms. But what if he wouldn't catch me? No. I disappeared to the hallway instead. 

"Fuck" I whimpered while I opened the bathroom door and reeled inside. I stopped in front of a huge mirror and placed my hands on sides of the cold sink in desperate need for suport. I tried to keep my balance but I felt like fainting. My mind was spinning, causing me to want to throw up. I even leaned over the sink to gag few times, my whole body trembling along but nothing came out.

Five months. It's been five months since I saw him. I didn't expect to run into him, not while I was here in London nor ever again. He was Niall Horan and I was Molly, a nobody. So what are the fucking odds that he shows up here?

Of course I had thought about him. I had thought about him too much. But he was supposed to be living in Ireland, far away from London and me. Why on earth was he here then? I should have done proper research on him before showing up here, expecting to never run into him again. God I was stupid.

I opened the tap and watched how the water floated through. Cupping my hands I scooped some water and splashed it on my face. With hand paper I quickly dried the remaining drops off my cheeks then gazed at myself from the mirror again. I had to go back, I cannot fuck this up because of him.

Once I managed to find my way back to the entrance hall they were already inside the broadcasting booth. Overwhelming wave of relief rushed through my body, thank god they hadn't waited for me. I collapsed on the navy sofa, resting my head against the back pillow. With closed eyes, I took few deep breaths. There was no way I would walk into that studio and listen to their interview. Whatever they were recording, I didn't need to hear.