In Other Words…Chapter Seventy-Four
Roxy’s POV
Let’s go, babe!” Niall shouted. I sent a puff of air over my top lip, pushing the strand of hair that was already driving me nuts up out of the way as I worked my fingers through the carpet, searching on hands and knees for the back of my earring. Eventually, I gave up, swiping another from a seldom-used pair and snapping it on before flying down the stairs. “Where’s Ryan?” I said.
“Running on Ryan time. He’s gonna meet us there.” he said. I sat down on the bottom step to slip on my sandals and have a dig through the bottom of my bag, feeling for my Chapstick. “Come on.” He whined impatiently, which just made me move even slower out of spite. He just leaned against the door frame, tanned arms tucked across his chest, exuding irritation and yet smiling.
The boys had made arrangements with some dive bar so close up for the night so we could karaoke and have drinks. I loved these nights when we all got to pretend to be normal people; I loved it almost as much as Niall did. And it was much needed, since in just a few days I’d be loading his backpack full of plane snacks and saying my goodbyes, the second leg of the tour taking the five of them and their entire entourage to faraway places.
“We’re driving?” I asked as he closed the front door behind us. He jiggled his keys in response. I guess he isn’t planning on having too wild of a night, otherwise he would have just arranged a car. I shrugged and hopped into the passenger seat.
I caught him smiling as he sang along softly to the radio. There was nothing better than a smile on that boy’s face. I stole his hand from the steering wheel and laced my fingers with his, really trying to remind myself to savor these little moments, and to tuck them away to a little box somewhere in my brain where I could find them for future use, when the quiet would turn inevitably sad. “Love you, Ni.” I said.
“Oh yeah?” he said. “We’ll see about that.”
Niall’s POV
The summer sun had just barely begun to set, the view of the city from the top of this street quite breathtaking, if only for an instant. “Whoa.” She held a flat hand to her stomach. “That hill gave me butterflies.”
I had them too.
I hoped that word hadn’t already gotten out about our presence in this neighborhood tonight, and judging by the way Louis and Stan were joking around out front on the sidewalk with the two members of our security team that had offered to do this gig on the side, so far we were under the radar.
Harry’s car was taking up nearly two whole spots in the lot. “Look at this asshole.” Roxy muttered knowingly, her feet hitting the pavement, the door slamming quickly behind her. I busied myself in tucking all of the shit strewn about into the compartment between the seats. This neighborhood was a bit on the sketchy side, and I didn’t want to make my car any more appealing than it already was by leaving my brand-new iPod sitting on the dash. “Come on.” She whined, mocking me. I locked the doors, two satisfying honks of the horn sounding before I tucked my keys away and took her by the hand, forcing my mind to focus on the fact that in a few hours we’d be climbing back into the car and heading home.
We hung around outside a few minutes, Zayn finishing up a cigarette while the girls caught up on God knows what. Louis lifted an eyebrow in my direction, but I didn’t acknowledge it, opting to strike up a conversation with some of the lads on the topic of Derby; my go-to. The sign affixed to the door read Private Event Tonite – reopen tomorrow 11 am and the burly guys were busy checking names off of the list as we breezed by. “Could have gone with the code-word system.” Louis huffed, earning a synchronized eye-roll from myself and Roxy. He’d decided for Liam’s last birthday that instead of making a guest list we should just spread around a password that would be used at the door to gain entry. Perhaps it was a poor choice in the word itself (I mean, what the fuck is a mugwump?) but needless to say it was more of a hassle than the tried and true method.
“Hey Haz!” She yelled across the pub toward Harry. “Nice park job, dickhead.” He held his glass in the air and smiled, Allison still a little visibly uncomfortable by his and Roxy’s strange friendship. I, on the other hand, liked the way they bantered like siblings. She bellied up to the bar and surveyed the options, handing a cold pint to me and sipping on hers as she made her way around the room saying her hellos and how ya doins.
“Jameson chilled.” I said to the barmaid just as soon as Roxy was out of earshot. Past my lips and down my throat it went, the satisfying burn lingering a few moments before I sipped my beer, tossing the empty shot glass to the bar top with a “Thanks, love.”
Everything was just as it should be. The frizzy-haired woman in the corner unraveling lengths of cords in preparation for karaoke, the buffet tables filled with starters and pizzas I’d ordered in from Mama’s lining the far wall, and the familiar faces of our friends pouring in through the doorway.
It was going to be a good night.
Roxy’s POV
Niall didn’t seem to be cutting loose to the extent that I expected, but the night was still young, so I nursed my beer, preparing for the possibility that my ass was going to have to be the one that drives us home. Karaoke was happening in full-force, Liam and Danielle kicking things off with a cringe-worthy but perfectly on-key rendition of I Got You Babe. If my observations were correct, the crazy karaoke woman ought to be calling Niall’s name very soon. I just prayed he hadn’t put in for Sweet Caroline like he always did, simply because he knew I loathed it. On one occasion he held the mic to my face, forcing me to sing the “dun dun dun” of the chorus, so I’ve decided that if I hear that familiar trumpet intro I’m just going to excuse myself to the ladies. But tonight they had cordless mics, so he’d probably just follow me into the bathroom and shimmy under the stall door, shouting “So good. So good. So FUCKING good!” in his usual, obnoxious fashion.
Actually, this scenario suddenly felt hilarious and tempting. But I just sipped on my beer and popped a handful of peanuts into my mouth, sitting down in the chair at the end of the table where someone had moved my bag, claiming my previous spot with their own.
There weren’t too many people in the pub, but it was definitely lively. There was a half-sheet of paper that had been folded into a sort-of sign that read Reserved VIP that sat in the middle of our set of pushed-together tables right in front of the stage, as if we were all going to sit in our designated chairs for the duration of the evening, or that anyone not “with the band” would be forced to sit elsewhere. Of course, people were mostly up and moving around, shooting the shit and having some laughs. And the best part was that nearly everyone that was signing up for karaoke could actually sing. My name was conspicuously absent from that line-up.
I must have started a trend, because within a matter of minutes, the seats around our table began to fill up, Ryan, finally having arrived, pulling the chair beside me out and spinning it around, straddling the seat and plunking his beer to the table. He muttered something about being sorry that he was late and capped it off by giving me a little punch in the arm.
The karaoke host took the mic from Andy’s friend as the last few bars of music played, and the writing credits flashed on the screen that was spread across the back wall of the stage. “Next up we have Niall…”she squinted at the slip of paper in her hand “…and The Tallywackers?” Louis and Liam each scooted back their chairs with a triumphant chuckle and made their way over to snag the three microphones from the woman, Niall coming from the back of the room, brushing his fingers down the length of my arm as he passed by my chair and hopped up on the stage. Liam and Louis stood behind him and off to the side, and Niall gave a little nod to let the host know he was ready.
“This one’s for you, baby…” he said in my direction with a wink. I covered my eyes. Oh Jesus. Here it comes. I thought, readying myself for Neil Diamond purgatory. “…a little bit of Motown.” My head snapped up from my hands.
I’ve got sunshine, on a cloudy day.
Liam and Louis were trying to work out how to do the Temptations-style shuffle dance in the background, which is almost enough to distract me away from watching Niall as he sang, his hand trembling just slightly.
I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way? My girl.
By the second verse, the boys had given up on their dancing and made their way down to our table, taking their girlfriends’ hands and planting a sweet kiss atop them in perfect synchronization. Niall was holding his own on stage, Louis and Liam adding their background harmonies, Dani and El trying not to giggle too much at the cheesiness of it. Lou leaned into Eleanor’s shoulder and said something to her as the bridge started, her eyes going a little wide. He could be rather foul-minded.
Liam pointed in my direction with his microphone, he and Louis made their way to my end of the table, Ryan taking the glass from my fingertips just as they stooped down on either side of me, each taking an opposite leg of my chair and lifting it. My hands shot downward to steady myself in the seat a “whoa” and stream of half-laughs bubbling out of my throat, Liam muttering something to the effect of “we’ve got ya” as they hoisted me up, setting the chair just off-center mid-stage.
I don’t need no money, fortune or fame. I’ve got all the riches baby, one man can claim.
Niall’s chin lifted upward at the higher-notes. I felt myself getting flush just from being up there in front of these people, and I looked out past our front table, hoping to find the majority of them carrying on with their own conversations, totally unaware of the silly spectacle taking place on stage. Or at least laughing about it.
But they were not.
It occurred to me just how quiet everything had gone, and how strange it was to see Harry sitting with his hands in his lap, quiet and focused. Or that Ryan had his cellphone out and pointed toward us, but that he wasn’t snapping a photo.
Niall’s POV
Don’t fuck it up, I thought as the song began to play. The lads were there behind me, a decision I’d made last second, unsure I’d be able to manage my nerves without their familiar presence. The bigger agony was in the choice of song, something that had been weighing on me over the last couple of weeks. My short list of options included all of the greats: Bublé, Westlife and Bon Jovi. But one by one they were crossed-off in favor of something a little simpler, and something I knew she’d love. Something with a little soul.
It had been several months since I sat in our dining room with her piled into my lap where she’d happily turned me down. All of the feelings I’d felt in that moment when the words slipped from my lips had only grown to be more true in the time since, and I knew I wanted to have a proper go at asking her before we skipped town. She’d be here waiting for me regardless, I know, but there was just something different about knowing she’d be falling asleep with the ring currently tucked deep within my pocket on her finger, my question finally asked and her answer finally given.
Despite my confidence that she’d say “yes”, I was crippled with nerves in a way I hadn’t been in a very long time. My hand shook as I brought the microphone to my lips, her head lifting from where it was held in her hands, probably out of confusion, expecting me to bless the room with the best goddamned version of Sweet Carolinethat ever was or ever will be, instead hearing the baseline of the Motown tune.
I watched her intently as I sang the words I’d memorized long ago, waiting for the moment when she’d realize this wasn’t just a good old fashioned serenade. Even as Liam and Lou lifted her chair in the air, her feet quickly wrapping around the wooden legs to balance herself in the seat, she remained clueless. Embarrassed, but clueless. It wasn’t until she peeled her hands away from where they covered her face and looked out on the entire room that her expression changed, and I knew she was starting to figure it out. She gripped the sides of her chair, her eyes moving back and forth between her brother who had her parents queued up on Skype from his mobile, Harry who sat with a grin on his face, and Eleanor, who was gob-smacked, her elbows propped up on the table. I wasn’t sure if she was doing it on purpose, or if she justcouldn’t, but it seemed like the one person she wasn’t looking at was me.
Handing my mic off to Liam, I pried her fingers from her side and took her hand, calling her up from the chair to stand beside me, the boys taking over in singing the final verse.
I took a breath.
Roxy’s POV
For a moment, I’d forgotten he was even standing there. In fact, I forgot that time was even moving as I sat in that chair, my ears deaf to any sound except the beating of my own heart. My hands had gone numb, and I had the urge to bring them to my face, or across my chest or to my kneecaps, but instead I felt him take one from my side, pulling me up onto my feet.
“Niall.” I managed. He laced his fingers into both of my hands, letting them fall back to my sides as he stepped in close, until we were almost touching. The boys had stopped singing now, but the song played on. He began to speak, his voice soft and low, the words intended for me alone. I could almost see his heart racing beneath his shirt, his eyes watery but bright.
“God, why am I so nervous?” he said. Definitely the first words every girl wants to hear as part of a fairytale proposal. I was at least eighty-five percent sure this was a proposal-situation.
“You think you’re nervous?” I choked.
“You’re not supposed to talk.” He said. I wasn’t aware there was a rulebook on the matter, but it seemed we’d already strayed a bit anyhow.
“Yeah, well.” I muttered.
“Shut up for a second, okay?” he said sweetly. I looked up at him, this man that I loved. With his mess of blonde hair and his flushed cheeks. His stupid smile. I pressed my lips together, vowing to myself to keep them shut as he found his words. “I knew from the moment I met you that you were something different. But I didn’t know then that you were something that would make me different. Anytime I found myself getting lost in the madness that sometimes is my life, I’d look up into the sky and it would make me feel so small, and yet so alive. You once put it into words perfectly for me: life is what you make of it, not what it makes of you.”
That night under the stars flashed before me, the feel of the blanket wrapped around our shoulders as he said pitched his view on life to me in the form of a rambling story; The moment when I realized how happy knowing him and being around him made me, inexplicably so.
“The thing I didn’t understand then” he continued. “was that one person can hold the entire universe behind her eyelids, turning everything you know on its head and make you utterly unable to remember what life was like before knowing her. And for some reason, that woman seems to think she can tolerate being with me.”
He let go of my right hand, but I couldn’t take my eyes from his, which were so clear and focused. I was ready to leap out of my skin, wanting to bury myself in his chest for the next hundred years or so, or shrink myself down to fit into his pocket. All I want is to be with him. Always. He was down on one knee now, my hand still in his. I felt my knees shaking.
“So, I am hoping you’d be up for tolerating me forever. Will you marry me?”
Time stopped again. It occurred to me that I may have been hallucinating, that he could be down there in front of me simply tying his shoe. But the bit of metal pinched beneath his thumb and forefinger indicated otherwise.
“Me?” I said, just to verify I was, in fact, present in this space and time. He nodded. I said the single word my brain and my whole body had been silently screaming the entire time knelt before me. He took my fourth finger, his hands shaking, and I finally managed to notice the beautiful ring he’d chosen as he slipped it over my knuckle and pushed it down as far as it would go. The air seeped from where it was held back in my lungs, and he leapt to his feet, where I flung my arms around his shoulders and pressed my mouth to his harder than I ever had before, unable to properly convey how much I loved him.
His hands found the backs of my knees and lifted me upward, wrapping my legs around his hips, my ankles crossing behind his back as he held me tightly to his chest. “Holy shit.” I stammered.
“Holy shit.” He echoed, barely managing to bring his lips out of his grin enough to kiss me again.