Capture My Heart (BK3: Niall Horan)

-Ch 15: Promise.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Promise.

-Niall Horan-

I fumbled with my phone in between my fingers, wondering if it would receive any kind of contact sometime soon.

It didn’t.

I closed my eyes, sucking in a deep breath. The sound of voices cluttered the air, all lapsing over each other in rush. It was all a game of time. I really didn’t make very much of this when a nurse said this to me on her flouncing by earlier when I was sat on some scratchy kind of chair quite frankly feeling sorry for myself. But now, the more I thought about it I guessed it was true. We were always waiting on something else in the future, always waiting for the future to become the present. Always waiting on someone else to make the change, rather than to act upon it ourselves.

I looked up at the others, lounging lazily upon the small and secluded kind of waiting area that was quite basically a square of chairs with an opening on the right side that opened to the hallway. Zayn appeared to be drifting in and out of sleep, and everyone else was just bored, checking their phones for the time and occasionally venturing down the hall for some food they didn’t want, or a drink they weren’t even thirsty for.

I sighed to myself, concentrating on the sound of the rain bouncing off of the window above me. It smashed against the glass, the repetitive shots of water like the undying immune human invincible against sharp bullets.

The silence was eerily unsettling as it stretched across the room, so thickly thin as it etched into every crack and crevice. The ticking of the clock sounded above, lacing itself into the lack of noise in perfect symmetric timing, the only constant in this room. It was too much of a dark waiting game for conversation.

I couldn’t help but think, that if we’d never agreed to do that record deal that day then we wouldn’t be here right now, because this coldheartedly would not be our problem. But there were a lot of things that would be different right now if we hadn’t done that one little signature for that contract. The one that promised we’d put our voices in harmony with someone who we never even knew personally until that day. It’s strange in a way, how some small little happenings and agreements can spiral into something so different to what things used to be, or what they would be without it.

I looked over at Louis, staring blankly out the window above me. His eyes tracing a raindrop as it chased across the windowpane. His eyes seemed darker somehow, but maybe just drained. The aftermath feelings he possessed of were still that much clear to me, as I had been no stranger to them for the past however long. Although he’d already done his fair share of crying, he was just kind of dazed now. Dazed with sadness. As much as the next person I wanted desperately to cheer him up, but it came to the point where I really didn’t know how to anymore. I don’t think anyone really did. Sometimes, it gets to a point when someone can only save themselves, nobody else can, just them. Maybe that’s a game of time too.

Everyone was so quiet. Maybe it’s the not knowing that forces you into silence, leaving you alone with your own thoughts and making you unable to put them into verbal. We were technically just friends, so we weren’t really allowed to be near, or get information first. It was Ellie’s family who got that first, I didn’t know about Ashley though. I was expecting she’d be here sometime soon, I didn’t know exactly when and I didn’t know if I wanted to. It was the nerves churning inside of me; it’s kind of strange, having this short absence and then suddenly not knowing how to act afterwards. It was probably better that I didn’t know, less opportunity to get worked up and make a complete fool out of myself.

“Why don’t you call her?” Harry asked, his voice spearing through the silence, causing the absent rising of gazes around the room. Just for this seemingly out of place remark.