Twenty One Letters To Niall

Twelve Letters To Niall

AN: Okay so I will read through this later and touch it up, this is literally a load of sentences that I wrote in the back of my schoolbooks (I pulled the pages out, don't worry) and then put together literally just now. Sorry sorry sorry sorry for the whole taking ages to update *cough* three months *cough*  thing. Love you all x

Dedicated to the anon who messaged me on tumblr. Stay strong, beautiful. <3

 

 

"What's that?" Louis asked, collapsing onto the sofa beside Niall, putting his feet up on the tour bus coffee table. Niall flinched. He fought the urge to close the laptop, opting for clenching his fingers together.

"Just trying to find the address of a fan," He said simply, hoping that Louis would just take it for that and leave him alone, because he didn't really need Louis's prying eyes right now nosing into his business. But no, the older boy instead decided to peer over Niall's shoulder, frowning in confusion. "Why?" He asked.

"Uh - I met her at the album signing the other day? And she seemed really sweet and, uh -" Niall stumbled over the lie, not quite sure what to say. Louis seemed to believe him, though.

"Oh," Louis said. "Was she one of  the ones that we didn't finish?"

Niall swallowed thickly, grateful for the excuse. "Yeah. I just thought we could send her a little message, or something."

Leaning over to pull off a sheet of paper from the shiny notepad sitting on the table (a One Direction one, Niall still couldn't understand exactly why people still thought they all wanted simple everyday objects emblazoned with their own faces, but whatever), Louis scribbled down his autograph and a small 'hi, lots of love! x', handing it to Niall.

"You're a good guy, Nialler. Give that to her as well, yeah?" He said, before slipping back out of the room, disappearing before Niall could even say something.

Niall stared at the slightly crumpled piece of paper in his hands.

"Oh." He said into the empty room, feeling guilty for lying to his bandmate. Number rule in the band, no secrets. Was she a secret, though? Or was she just somebody that he didn't want to give up just yet, didn't want to share with anyone else? 

He sighed, flopping down sideways on the sofa hopelessly. Pulling out another letter, he rubbed a hand across his forehead and tried to forget about his frustration, because maybe he might find out more, find out an address, if he read more. Maybe he could find her.

 

Dear Niall,

School's started again.

I'd forgotten how much I hate it.

I'm a Year 11 now, but nothing's changed. It's still all the same old teachers slamming books on tables, same old people whispering behind their friends backs and everything just seems to blend together in a constant stream of miserableness. It's like everyone's following the same set of rules, don't do this, don't do that, and it's been so long since they were made that no one knows if they make any sense anymore, but they're set in stone now and if you try, just try, to make a difference, that's it. You're no longer one of us. You're an outsider.