"Niall," I call out, sitting at a desk in the office. Niall said that it was absolutely necessary for us to have an office so that I would have a place for files and somewhere to keep my writing. Particularly a place for me to write my story that I promised him I'd do.
My pen was secured between my fingers. A paper laid flat on the desktop.
"Yes, my beautiful KareBear?" he sung. His heavy footsteps sounding down the hall, coming closer. Soon he appeared in the doorway, wearing a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. Barefoot. His cheeks tinted pink telling me that he felt just how cold the house was, as well. His hair laid against his forehead.
He grins, "Did ya start that story yet? Ya know that I won't let ya back outta that promise."
I chuckle softly, "You know, we can't just set a date and expect it to be perfect. We have to plan this wedding."
His lips form an O as a look of realization fell across his face. "Alright, scooch over," he spoke cheekily, striding over to meet me behind the desk. Instead of sitting in a separate chair, he pulled mine out. I giggle, spinning slighty. I pulled my legs in so that I wouldn't kick him.
"It's too damned cold in this house to sit alone," he grumbled. "Honestly, it's May, what the fuck, London?"
I giggle at his bitterness. I stood to my feet, allowing him to sit down before he pulled me onto his lap. His arms snaked around my waist while he scooted us up to the desk. His chin rested on my shoulder. He let out a pleasured sound, closing his eyes briefly. "Oi, you're warm," he mutters. I chuckle, laying back against him. "Thank God!"
I burst into giggles. "It's not that cold in here. I'd figure that you'd be used to it, living in London as long as you have. Far longer than me."
"It doesn't matter," he sighs, "I might have spent my time, freezing my arse off in this place God knows how long, but I'll never get used to these frigid temperatures. Ireland good. London bad... Honestly! I am freezing far more than my ass off."
I let out a loud laugh, turning my head to kiss his cheek. "Poor baby," I coo.
"I know," he murmurs, digging his face into my neck. "Ugh, don't ever let go of me. You're my new blanket."
I giggle. "Alright. First things first. What day do we want to get married?"
"Ugh.... the wedding doesn't have to be in London, does it?"
"No."
"November."
I smile to myself. He knew that November was my favorite month of the year. It was the perfect balance between Christmas and Halloween with a tad bit of Thanksgiving action and it was in winter. I love winter.
"Niall, this wedding doesn't have to be all about me. It can make you happy as well."
"Babe," he mumbled, resting his head on my shoulder. His cheek against the fabric of my sweater. His hot breath hit my neck causing me to shudder. My hair had been pulled over the opposite shoulder. "A wedding is referred to as 'the bride's special day' for a reason. This is going to be your day. It's gotta be perfect for you. As far as I'm concerned, having you become my wife is all that I'll ever need. I want you to be happy."
I bite back a smile. Niall was honestly too sweet, I swear. "But I want a little bit of your input," I say softly.
"Alright. Make it November 3rd."
I giggle. He knew that my favorite number was three.
"Niall," I sigh.
"Just write it, huh," he whines. I chuckle and write it across the paper beside "Date:"
"Place?"
"New York or Mullingar. Either one is just perfect."
I bit my lip, grinning. "Ya know... I've always wanted to be wedded where my parents were."
"I know. I remember you telling me about it a few years ago. It was.... you said something about it being in some garden. In Brooklyn, I think."
"The Brooklyn Botanic Gardens," I smile.
Remembering the green grass and shrubs. The hedges forming some amazing patterns. The water fountains and tree paths. Some of the prettiest flowers I had ever seen. Lilies and orchids and carnations. Rivers and streams running through.
I remember how Daddy asked Mommy to marry him again and renew their vows when I was just seven years old.
"Yeah, and the reception was in the Rainbow Room," he chuckles. "If that's what you want, that'd be the perfect place to get married."
I smile, writing "Place: Brooklyn Botanic Gardens." Below it I wrote, "Reception: Rainbow Room."
"What about the bridesmaids?" he muttered, kissing my neck.
"I want the girls to be them and Melanie, Trinity, and Syndy. I want Avery to be my Maid of Honor since she's been my friend the longest." I scribble it down.
"And I suppose that you want pink lotus as a bouquet?"
I giggle, writing it down. He knew me far too well. "Who do you want as your best man?"
He froze beneath me. I grin. "I can't have five?"
"No," I laugh.
"But I want all of the guys to be in the wedding!"
"Well, Zayn will be giving me away so that's one down."
He stayed quite for a moment. "Greg has to be a best man.... ugh, can I have four?"
I sigh, "Fine. It's your decision." He kissed my neck softly, tightening his arms around me. "What song do we dance to?"
He smiled, "How about Stay by Rihanna?"
"Ugh... you're putting too much of my favorites into this!"
"Babe, I told you. I'm going to be the invisible man. No one will see me. No one will cry over me. No one will watch me come down the isle. It's all you. Now who do you want as flower girl?"
I smile to myself. "Marlene."
Marlene was Nathan and Harper's daughter. She was the cutest kid. Just about to turn four in a few months.
He chuckles, "You and Nate are better friends than Holly and I."
I muse, "I miss Holly. We should invite her."
"Normally, a girl would be jealous of her boyfriend's ex."
"Niall, I think that we can both agree that I'm not normal," I smirk, writing Marlene's name down. "We need to hire a wedding planner."
"Why? I think we got something good here."
"Because I don't want to be in charge of invitations and catering and photography," I crane my neck around to smile at him. He pecks my lips. "Alright. I'll look for a planner tonight and we'll go in the morning. Let's just work on that guest list right now."
I smile, flipping the paper over.
*
Niall shivered, pulling his jacket closer. "What the fuck? It's colder than yesterday!" he whines.
"I told you to wear another shirt," I smirk. I give him an I-told-you-so look.
"Oh hush," he mutters, pushing through the door following me. A bell rung as we stepped inside. "Thank God! Warmth!" he chirps. He wrapped his arms around himself. The door closed with a click.
Everyone grinned at us, hearing his outburst.
I roll my eyes at Niall, seeing his pink face. "You act like you've just streaked in the snow," I tease, striding over to a desk.
"It's cold!"
I chuckle and shake my head. A woman with short brown hair smiled at me. Her soft blue eyes met mine. "Are you Caroline Stevens?"
She nods, "I assume that you're Katie?"
I smile, "Pardon my fiancé. He tends to act like an idiot in the cold."
"Ugh!" he gaped at me. "That's mean!" I grin.
"So how long have you two been engaged?" Caroline asks.
"Today? Uh," I stop, calculating it in my head. "Three years."
Caroline went wide eyed, cocking her head back in surprise. "Three years? Gosh."
"We had gotten engaged and Niall told me that he'd wait however long I wanted since we're young so I decided that I wanted to graduate from college first."
"You know, my daughter is this big fan of One Direction, and she always talks about the lads and their fiancés and wives so when I heard you say that you were Katie and your fiancé was Niall Horan, I just stopped. The only thing running through my mind was, 'I hope to God Ashley didn't hear that,' because when it comes to that band," she sighs, rolling her eyes, "she just freaks out."
"I like the fans," I grin. "I just can't understand how they see the guys as these Gods when in reality, they're five singing idiots who talk far too much."
"I'm right here," Niall mutters, pouting slighty. I giggle and pat his cheek, "You're a cute idiot."
"Thank you," he smiles.
Caroline smiles, "Follow me." We trail behind her to a desk. "First things first," she smiled, sitting on one side. Niall and I sat beside each other on the other side.
"Actually," I stop her, pulling out the paper, "We talked a little bit last night." I give it to her. She smiled, reading it.
"November?"
"That gives us seven months."
"I see. How about we meet up twice a week, from 12:00 to 3:00, to plan and talk, until a month before the wedding?" she proposes.
"That's perfect."
We talked about the bridesmaids dresses and setting of the wedding ceremony and photography.
*
"Hurry!" he whined. I step out of the doorway, allowing him to run inside. "Ugh, so warm," he muttered, shredding off his jacket and kicking off his shoes. He rushes over to fireplace, plopping down in front of it. He insisted on letting the fire burn so that when we got back, it was nice and toasty.
I take off the two jackets I was wearing and set them down on the couch. I kicked off my shoes and socks before I meet him, carrying a blanket.
I can't stand wearing shoes inside.
He cuddled me close, leaning back against the coffee table. He kissed my forehead. We sat there, snuggling underneath the cover in front of the fire. Somewhere along the line, a yelp fell from my lips as I latch onto Niall. He laughed and pressed his cold hand to my stomach, underneath my shirt.
"What's the matter?" he asks cheekily.
"Niall, stop it. Your hands are freezing!" I hiss, shivering. He chuckles. He withdrawal his hand and pulled me closer.
"Hey, when are you gonna write that story?" I burst out laughing. His cheeks tinge pink. "What's so funny?"
"You are really persistent about that story, aren't you?"
"Well, I know that you can do it. You're a good writer. You need to show the rest of the world that talent."
I smile at him. "Alright."
I pull away from him to march up stairs and start a graphic organizer, telling the main character and what he looks like. His family.
As soon as I have the basic stuff, I ponder the thought. I don't want to write a sappy love story, but I don't want to write something like Fifty Shades of Grey. I don't want to write a story where everything comes out as you introduce the character. I don't want to write something like The Hunger Games or Divergent but I want action.
I want a romance. I want drama and action. Mysteries that make you sit at the edge of your seat, craving to see what happens next. I want a tad bit of horror that makes the reader beg for more. I want that.
But how do I start a story like that?
I muse, wondering how the hell that I can write that for what seems like hours before I finally get an idea.
I wrote in a notebook, skipping lines. My pencil nearly burned the paper.
"My feet pounded against the sidewalk. My chest heaved as I tried to grasp the air. My thoughts swirled inside my mind. I couldn't wrap my head around what was happening.
Is this happening? Is this real? Have I been sucked out of reality all over again?
I made a sharp turn, tripping over the sidewalk. I stumble. The snarls and barks came closer. Shit!
The streets were empty. The homes were hollow. No one dared stepping into this side of town, in this old dump. In what was now called Quarter Falls, after what happened last year in Springfield. Quarter Falls? They couldn't have thought of a better name?
But then again, after losing a family the way I did. After losing a whole state, half a country in what used to be America, I don't find anything right anymore. I mean, you go across the country to stay with a crazy old bat of an aunt before IT happened and everything you once known was gone.
The streets looked the same. The shops and stores held the same letters above. The layout of the city stayed the same. Yet all life was lost. Not a soul but myself and these damned dogs- IF you can call it that- wandering these streets. All the animals, every person who once sat in Springfield was gone. Nothing but a rabbid wolf-raccoon mixed dog from what I could tell survived. The ugly mutts.
I turn down an alley.
I was crazy for coming back. Hell, since the war I've lost my mind. I'll admit I'm as deranged as those nasty creatures behind me.
A beast caught my pants leg causing me to cry out, stumbling. I jerk my leg away, speeding up.
I'm a fucking imbecile for coming back to this shitty town.
I fall on my hands and knees, coming to a stop. The end of the alleyway. A concrete wall, the only thing that separates me from freedom. God knows what lies behind that wall. Probably more crazy ass dogs.
I turn over, cowaring against the wall. My breathing was uneven. I stared wide eyed at the beasts that snarled and hissed, approaching me.
Unless I'm even more insane than I thought, those were anything but dogs.
Sure, they had dog ears and a snout, but that's about it. It's bodies resembled a wolf. Either a tawny brown or coal gray. They had tails that reminded me of a raccoon. Green snake eyes. Outlined kinda like a panda. They foamed at the mouth, reminding me just how dangerous they are. If I get bit, I'll be a fucking psychopathic mutt myself.
Their teeth were razer sharp. The canines in front were far longer than the rest, coming down an inch and a half.
It's likes learning about sabertooth tigers in science class ALL OVER AGAIN.
WHERE THE FUCK did these things come from?
I blame that damned Korea. They're the reason that no one walks these streets. They're the reason that World War III began. They bombed Japan, taking them off of the map. They stole weapons from Germany. They nuked America. They killed this country. They let it hit the very center of the country and let it blow the Middle East to bits and slowly send the chemicals through the streets. They let it kill everything. And when the citizens were dead, they took over the world. Fuck Kim.
He probably put these things here to make sure America was done for at last.
I closed my eyes, feeling the mutts hot breath in my face. The stench of their breath was enough to make you gag. I readied myself for death, feeling some foam touch my leg as it fell off of the dog's mouth.
THAT'S NOT RABBID FOAM! my mind screams. My leg was on fire. Acid burned my skin. It made me shout and holler in pain.
The sound of snarling made my stomach lurch.
I'm about to die.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I cringe. Then a shot rang out. I screech, snapping my eyes open. The dog in front of me dropped to the ground, howling. The rest whimpering, beginning to scatter. Three more drop to the ground. A sick, putrid stench emitted from the beasts as a purple liquid oozed out of their wounds. They jerked and shook, dying.
I gasp for air, staring incredulously.
Did that really happen?... it did.
I'm alive.
"Burn in hell!" I scream, kicking the one just inches from my lap away.
A maroon haired girl dropped to the ground beside me, landing on her feet. One hand on the ground as she squatted. She stood up straight. Tall. Slender. At least nineteen years old. She wore a tight black shirt and shorts. A gun on her back. The strap against her chest.
Mother of God, am I hallucinating or is she the sexiest woman I have ever seen? It's the way she looked around. The look in those chestnut brown eyes. Like she knew that she was dominate. That she knew how to handle herself.
"Fucking mutts," she snarled, spitting at the dogs. They howl, before finally laying still. A purple pool lay glistening around them. It reminded me of my mother. The pool as if a pool of Grape Fanta. I spilt it so many times, I can still hear my mother scolding me to clean it up.
The girl looked at me, with an evil look in her eyes. Just my kinda woman.
Evil and crazy. Maybe our kids will turn out to be schizophrenic. That'd be just my fucking luck.
"The name's Justice. Justice Whelks. I'd advise you to stand up before that blood makes you lose all feeling to your legs." Her voice was cold. Demanding. I immediately knew that she had authority. She didn't take shit. This wasn't a game to her.
I shuffle to my feet, gripping my leg.
"Your thigh will be fine in the morning. It's just a burn." I nod. "What's your name?" She didn't really ask a question so much as demand for an answer.
"Willis Andersen."
"Do you know where you are?"
"Quarter Falls. If it wasn't for that bastard, Kim, it would be called Springfield. This would still be America."
She turned towards me, smirking. I noticed a dark scar underneath her left eye. A slash going from her cheekbone down to the left side of her chin.
Ouch.
"You hate Kim as well?"
"Hate him? I want to shove a fucking squirrel down his throat for killing my family and let the squirrel ruin him from there."
She squints at me. Her maroon hair curved to her face. It fell past her shoulders in a wavy fashion.
"Did you breathe in that nuke gas?"
"If I breathed in the fucking gas, I'd be dead. Are you stupid?" I spat.
She glared at me, pulling something from the belt on her shorts. Her arm came up before coming back down. My body froze. My muscles rigid. A snap sounded above my right ear. A centimeter of my hair fell to my shoulder.
"Alright, asshole, smart ass to me again and you'll lose more than a lock of hair," she growled.
In disbelief, I glance at the knife beside my head.
Holy shit...
"Breathing in the air doesn't kill you. Only if you breathed in too much. Breathing in a little bit drives a man insane. Just like those dogs. Now I'll ask again. Did you. Breathe in. Nuke air?"
"Y-yes," I stutter. I gulp.
"That explains why you're so fucked up in the head. I can see it in your eyes. Now, c'mon before more dogs show up."
I followed her, staying close behind. Remind me not to fuck with this bad ass chick.
My eyes wander her backside, sneaking a glance at her ass in those shorts.
Let me rephase that. Remind me not to fuck with this SEXY, bad ass chick."
I grin to myself, marking it as the end of chapter one.
I glance at the clock to see it said 9:08.
After seeing the wedding planner, we had went out to eat. We got back at eight. Did it really take me an hour to write this?
I re-read my work, satisfied with my writing.
I liked it. It had action. It had drama. It had mystery. It had a tad bit of comedy. It had voice and figures of speech. And later in the story, it will have romance. Saucy romance.
Not Fifty Shades of Grey- saucy romance, but a tiny taste of sauciness.
"Niall!" I call out.
The way his heavy footsteps came down the hall, I knew that he could tell that I was done and that he was excited to read it. He appeared in the room, munching on crisps... or chips.... I need to get out of England for a while. He hoped up on top of the desk to sit on it, snatching the book away.
I gnawed on my thumbnail, hoping he likes it.
His eyes scanned the page. A tight line on his lips as he read.
At least he was reading it. If it didn't hold his attention, he wouldn't read it.
I glance at the creases in his forehead. He goes through far too much stress for a 24 year old.
He flipped the page, turning the book over.
Once he finished, a smile tugged at his lips. He glanced at me. "I knew that you'd be a good writer and I was right," he teases, reaching over to pinch my cheek.
"I can't believe it actually held your attention," I chuckle.
"Yeah, but most books aren't like that. Most books reveal everything in the beginning and you started with some shit. He's being chased? By what? What the fuck kind of animal is that? What happened to Springfield?" He cocked his head to the side, grinning at me.
"You're just being nice," I sigh, blushing. I avoid his eyes.
"Babe," he tilts my chin up, now standing to his feet. He hovers over the desk, pecking my lips, "it's amazing." He leans back. His hands on the desk, holding him up. "Now keep writing. I wanna read more."
I giggle at his goofy grin. He tapped my nose. He picked up his bag of chips before leaving.
I start on the second chapter.