× Mercury
The past six years had been dull and dry and generally absent, but somehow, when I looked at Niall, I was still able to burn.
He looked different, but I knew it was him from the moment our eyes locked. And I couldn't find it in myself to look away. His hair was completely removed of any blonde and was replaced with a lovely color of fallen leaves, brown and sleek with the first rain of autumn. It was short on the sides and longer on top, falling over his forehead with the perfect amount of tease. The stubble along his jaw had grown thick, not quite a beard, but no where near a 5 o'clock shadow. His black jeans weren't as skinny as I remember them to be, and instead a little loose and rolled up at the ankles. He wore a simple white T-shirt under an unbuttoned plaid shirt, the cuffs rolled up just far enough to show off a Rolex watch that cost more than my entire life. Another added accessory was a pair of Garamond glasses on the bridge of his nose and I wondered if they were a necessity or just for looks. His body filled out more, too. His shoulders were broad and his arms were bigger and he just looked very manly and thick.
But his eyes. His eyes still reminded me of the ocean at Santa Monica Beach.
There would always be that one person you'll never really get over. You could go days, weeks, months, years without thinking of them, but the second you see their face, your stomach drops and you feel like you could puke. How did this one person still garner this type of reaction from me?
"May I sit?" he asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside me.
I should have said no. I should have gotten up and left and saved the heartache that was sure to come, but his voice was so smooth and deep - the richness of his tones reverberated through my bones. But it was that Irish accent, luxurious and warm, that I found myself nodding.
Slowly, he took the seat beside me and I was quickly overwhelmed by his scent - it was that same woodsy smell I had slowly fallen in love with all those years ago.
Niall started fidgeting with a loose string on the sofa, something I had learned he did out of nervousness. I wondered if he remembered any of my little tics like I had remembered his.
"It's been a long time," he spoke, trying desperately to break the tension between us.
If this was six years ago, I probably would have responded with a sarcastic comment, but there was too much between us that I couldn't do anything but nod in agreement.
The bartender came back with two glasses of dark liquid and placed them down on the table in front of us.
"Thank you," I told her. She gave me a kind smile and walked away.
Niall took one of the glasses and looked at the content. "I see you're drinking now," he observed as he took a taste of the mystery liquid. "What is this? Rum?"
"Malibu," I confirmed. "With Dr. Pepper."
The silence between us grew thicker. I was glad there was a band playing as well as people talking around us because I didn't think I'd be able to bare the uncomfortable stillness between us.
How strange it was that after all that we'd been though, we were strangers again.
Setting the book that was in my lap on the coffee table; I picked up the glass left by the tender and cradled it in my hands, taking a small sip. I didn't much want to drink anymore now that I had surprising company. I learned how to control my liquor, but I didn't want to risk it, especially since the company was someone I once bore my heart to.
"Jace told me that you've been traveling," Niall spoke up. "Where all have you been?"
I hated this. I hated that he was acting like nothing happened between us - like no time had passed and he wasn't getting married tomorrow. But I also hated myself for missing him so much. I hated that I missed his presence beside me, and I mostly hated that I was still in love with him when he was clearly over me.
"Russia, Spain, Argentina," I responded despite what I was feeling. "Greece and Rome."
His eyes went wide at that. "Really? I bet you liked that since you're really into Greek mythology... Or, at least you were at one point."
I didn't respond and he must have taken the hint to shut up. This couldn't be easy for him; because it sure as hell wasn't for me. He might have moved on, but this, at the very least, must bring back memories of the two of us together and it couldn't have been anything short of painful.
Niall reached out and grabbed the book from the table, reading the title. I knew he remember the story. We had a public argument on it, after all. That was when our two different beliefs really shined, him the cold realist, and me the warm idealist.
He laughed under his breath, his finger tracing the letters on the cover. Then he flipped it open and it landed on a highlighted page. Thinking that I was the first person to open it, I sat up straight and peered over his arm to get a better look.
"Do you believe in coincidences?" Niall asked suddenly.
I sat back and mused over his question for a moment, wondering where he was trying to get at. "I haven't really thought about it."
Niall stared at the page. "Would you believe me if I told you that I sat in this very spot, looking at this very page... six years ago?"
Confused, I leaned toward him and looked at whatever had him so absorbed and lost in his head. In the middle of the page, a single passage was highlighted.
I don't know if life is greater than death. But love was more than either.
To me, this was just a book I had randomly taken off the shelf. But clearly there was more history to this than I would have ever thought. Niall sat here six years ago? Was he the one who highlighted the passage?
But I didn't question Niall about any of those inquiries. Instead, I asked, "Are you telling me that, Niall Horan, the boy I once knew to be the biggest analytical, believes in fate?"
Then, ever so softly, he smiled. "You out of anyone had taught me that I can't narrow everything down to a science."
That was all we needed to break the ice, just a reminder that we were two beings made up of molecules and oxygen that were once attracted to each other.
We talked about our lives, Niall telling me all about his professional soccer career as a player on the Republic of Ireland; his favorite team since he was a kid. Told me how he's been in constant contact with his brother and sees Theo once a month, explaining that the little guy has grown up to be a sports fanatic like him. His mom is still on the fence about him playing soccer, but now that he's actually making some good money from joining a team, she's a little open minded. It was that or she finally came to her senses and took my advice the first time I met her. But probably not.
I told him that I traveled to meet newly engaged couples and offer my services to take their engagement or wedding pictures for half of what other companies were doing. I was doing something good for people to cherish their memories without breaking the bank, and while it wasn't enough to get me by, but it made others happy.
We laughed over our glass of rum, but we made sure it only stayed at one glass. The two of us together was intoxicating enough.
"You know..." I said, leaning back on the loveseat. "You told me all about your life, but you left out a rather big detail. Niall, you're getting married in less than twenty-four hours."
Niall's face fell and he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.
"Who told you?" he asked.
"Does it matter?" I retorted, sitting up. "Why would you keep that from me? I understand not inviting me, but going out of your way to tell our mutual friends not to say anything seems kind of extra, don't you think? What did you expect would happen? That I'd crash the wedding?"
He ran his hands down his face and sighed heavily. "It wasn't so much as keeping it a secret from you, but as more of a cautionary procedure for me to go through with this."
I clenched my jaw and stared at him. Cautionary procedure? What the hell did that mean?
"Niall, why are you here?" I asked. "If you're getting married tomorrow, you should be sleeping and not out drinking. Is it cold feet? Second thoughts?"
He turned to look at me, but he kept his mouth shut.
"This is normal, you know," I assured him. "Having wedding jitters does not mean that you don't want this. But you're ignoring the feeling, which is why you're having physical symptoms, like not being able to sleep. I'm assuming that's the reason you're out and not in bed."
Niall remained silent, his eyes piercing into mine more and more as the time passed.
"It's probably just because you're scared to be the center of attention for something so intimate. Or because of the future you two will bring together," I continued, trying my best too sooth his worries. "It's going to be okay, Niall. It's nothing to have a panic attack over as long as you breathe and-"
I was interrupted by Niall's mouth on mine.
Every sense of familiarity washed over me. I was engulfed in a feeling of security as my heart thumped to the beat of the band, losing all logic of reality as he kissed me. It was like all the memories were paint splattered on a disco ball because my world was lit up in Technicolor nostalgia.
And then it all vanished when Niall pulled away and I was left in black and white.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking at me with wide, blue eyes. "I shouldn't have done that. I'm so sorry."
I reached up and touched my lips, like the very first time he kissed me in the arena hallway. I could feel them tingle with a slight buzz, like bubbling champagne, and I thought... this was it. There wasn't a hurricane rocking my body like it had done when he had first kissed me. I was finally over him.
Except I had learned that any theory wasn't proven correct without an experiment.
So I reached out and grabbed Niall by his shirt collar and pulled him toward me. This time when we kissed, I knew - the shock was paralyzing. All of my movements, everything I was feeling, hinged on him.
That sickening twist in my gut wasn't fear, or lust, or some awaiting disaster... it was all of those things at once. The kiss tapped into deep mines of memory, and the years that had separated us fell away as if they were nothing.
Everything after that was a blur. I remembered Niall kissing me back just as fervently and then getting into the backseat of a cab before we were stumbling through Anders' front door.
Niall didn't hesitate to pin me against the wall the moment it locked behind us. I had half a second to register the cocky grin on his perfect face and the triumphant gleam in his eyes before one of his hands held my jaw and the other snuck itself around my waist to pull me flush against him. His frantic lips met mine and I buried my hands in his hair and returned his passionate kiss with just as much eagerness. If there was any nervousness between us, I couldn't feel it.
"Missed you," Niall panted against my lips. "Missed this. Ever since ya left, this is all I could think about."
The rush was immediate. I couldn't control myself and I didn't want to. We laughed through knocked teeth and searching tongues. It was like I was twenty again, the high of the forbidden looming over our heads like an enticing curse. This was no different. I was kissing a soon-to-be married man, the oldest affair in the book. Forbidden fruit was always tempting, and we were always tempting forbidden fruit.
Niall's hands went to the the hem of his shirt, but I quickly stopped him. "Niall..." I breathed out. "Niall, stop. We-"
"Oh my God," Niall groaned. "Nothing has changed has it? You're still pulling away."
I stared at him. "This is different than when we were in college, Niall. I was pulling away because it would jeopardize our career... not a wedding. Your wedding. I don't want to be responsible for-"
His hand came up to cup my cheek. "I don't care," he said slowly, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. "I can deal with the consequences after, but I just don't fuckin' care right now."
I knew he would regret this in the morning, but he wasn't giving me a way out. And my mind was quickly made up when his mouth was on mine again.
Niall removed his plaid button down and T-shirt, dropping it to the floor before wrapping his arms around my waist, giving me no space to move. Soft moans vibrated between us and I swallowed all of them like I was starving. Hands were all over, palming at every inch of skin we could reach and tangling in each other's hair.
It felt good knowing that I wanted someone so bad. I've spend so much time feeling indecisive about things, but this is the one thing that remained the same. It drove me insane, but it also brought a certain level of comfort.
Niall's hands found their way to the hem of my shirt, slowly bunching it up and kissing across my neck, teeth nipping at the rungs of my collarbones.
The overexcited moment slowed noticeably then. Both of us stopping when our skin touched again. That fire was still there, burning bright with each touch of skin. Niall stood in front of me, taking the opportunity to familiarize himself with my body again.
"I remember every curve," he mumbled, his hand coming up to run up my sides. The spread of goosebumps was instantaneous from his gentle touch. "Every fuckin' freckle..."
I left my fingers from his hair so he could remove my shirt completely, showing him that I wasn't wearing a bra. He bent and kissed the valley of my chest, the feeling of his tongue gliding over the swell of my breast already overwhelming me.
Taking my sweet time, my hand trailed down his chest and to the coarse hair that led beyond his jeans. I popped the button and slipped my fingers inside, gaging his reaction. Niall instantly tensed up and sucked in a breath and I couldn't help but grin at the effect my touch still had him.
I leaned forward and placed my mouth against his neck, making sure not to leave any marks, but failing miserably. Pressing my hand further into his jeans, I wrapped my slender fingers around the shaft of his hard, leaking cock. My thumb ran over the tip, swirling the bead of precum.
"After six years," I breathed out against his skin, moving my mouth to his jaw and up to his ear. "I still have this effect on you."
He grunted when I tugged gently on him. "Yeah," he let out a breathy laugh. "And it's not goin' to last long if ya keep going like this."
I pulled away and looked him in the eyes. Somewhere in the mess of hands and lips, he had removed his glasses, making it so much easier to see them. They were wide and blown out with lust, so much so that I could see my own reflection in his pupils. I remembered a long time when I looked into these eyes I'd feel love and adoration. Nothing has changed.
I let my impulse take over, choosing to listen to the last piece of my heart Niall still owned instead of my brain screaming to stop, and grabbed his hand, leading him to the bedroom I was staying in.
No sooner did we step inside did Niall lift me off my feet and place me on the bed, hovering over me. He slid his hand down the front of my chest, feeling it contract underneath his touch. Being so close to each other made it the perfect opportunity for him to roll his hips into mine. The spark that had been dimly lit inside my stomach was now exploding all over my body, making me whine abruptly.
"You okay?" he smirked.
"Don't ask me that," I quickly interjected. "Don't bring other emotions into this. Just let me have this one last time."
He seemed to wince slightly from that comment, but he didn't say anything as his hand trailed down the curves of my waist. He kept his eyes glued to mine while he pulled the button of my jeans apart slowly. He slid them down with ease, taking my underwear with them, making sure to plant wet kisses along my thighs, leaving me completely bare.
In one motion, he slung my leg over his shoulder and swiveled his palm up against my sweet spot, waiting until my legs were shaking to follow up with his tongue. My fingers dug into his shoulder as he kissed, licked, and sucked where he was buried inside me, searching for the perfect spot.
I closed my eyes as he ran the flat of his tongue from the bottom of my slit right up to my clit, his stubbled jaw rubbing roughly against my tender thighs. I lifted my hips up, which caused him to press hard against that bundle of nerves that had me gripping his hair.
My head fell back into the pillow, suddenly feeling dizzy.
"Love how ya taste," he groaned against me, nuzzling himself between my thighs so they were clamped around his head. "I can't get enough of it."
His tongue pushed deeper, silencing any whimpers I was about to let slip because I was too overcome by desire. He twisted and turned inside me, flicking his nose against my clit. He smiled coyly before his tongue was replaced with two of his fingers, sliding perfectly inside of me. They were already moving at a pace fast enough to have my stomach convulsing, my orgasm threatening to spill over any second now.
"Wait," I gasped. "Niall, stop."
He reined back and looked at me with concern. "What's wrong? Did I-?"
"No, no, just..." My face flushed. I've never in my life been embarrassed by sex, so why was I stumbling over my words and blushing like a tomato now? "I want- I don't want to come, I..."
"What?" he smirked, looking unbearably smug. He gripped my chin and forced me to look in his eyes. "Say it, Lynn. I need to hear ya say it."
"I want you to fuck me."
Despite my obvious need and his arrogant attitude, he moves slowly. He takes his time to remove his jeans and boxers, discarding them with the rest of our clothes on the floor. It was agonizing to watch, my eyes dropping to where his cock was up against his stomach, hard and flushed and the same shade of pink as his lips.
He just lingered there above me, basking me in. His hand brushed my hair behind my ear before skimming across my neck then down over my chest.
Then I felt his tip against me teasingly, drawing this out as excruciatingly long as he possibly could. Reaching out, my hands shaking with anticipation, I cupped his face, my palms against his jaw and my fingers through the sides of his brown hair. I ran my thumb over his lips, recalling the last time I was this close to him.
For a split second, tears pricked the back of my eyes. I was sure I'd never get to feel him again. I spent days and nights ripping myself apart for not reveling in it longer the last time we'd been together.
The deliberate pace seemed to get to Niall as he soon sank into me, warmth spreading over my body as we both share in a light sigh. I brought his face down to kiss him as his hips roll into me, our skin meeting each other's for the first time in a long time.
Everything was so overwhelming - the fullness, his ridiculous intensity, his filthy fucking mouth, and the rough movement of his body with mine.
But it wasn't enough. I needed more, I needed to be closer. And Niall must have known that because he pulled out and brought my arms around his neck.
"Hold onto me," he said.
I latched on as he lifted me into his arms. He brought me to the top of the bed and sat me down on his lap, leaning his back against the headboard. I kept one hand around his neck while I let the other move down his face, passed his jaw and collarbones, and to his abdomen before grabbing the base of his cock gently.
Niall's mouth opened slightly as his head fell against the wood of the headboard, eyes closing shut with eagerness. I pumped him a few times from the base all the way to the tip, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of my mouth on him.
Grabbing my hand, he yanked me forwards so I fell onto his chest.
"Ride me," he breathed out.
I placed my hands on his shoulders and put my knees on either side of his thighs. He sat up so our eyes were level with each other. I wanted to say something, but I kept my mouth shut, choosing to line him up with my entrance instead of saying something I'd regret.
The moment we connected, our grips on each other tightened. Everything felt different then. It was like we were making love for the first time all over again.
Niall buried his head in my neck as I tangled one of my hands in his hair, running through the brown locks, while the other rubbed his back gently. He started thrusting inside me slowly, making my eyes roll back and flutter shut. He's always had that effect on me and now it was like all that pleasure was heightened with time, making it feel a million times better.
It was hard to keep a steady pace, but he managed the perfect combination of deep and slow, but hard enough to hit that spot inside of me that only he's ever reached.
But then he started slowing down - slowing down to the point where he was almost stopped inside of me.
I could tell he wanted to say something - it was on the tip of his tongue. I knew what it was from the look in his eyes when he stared at me, but I couldn't bear to hear it. Not now, and not ever again, even if the feeling was mutual.
"Niall..." I whispered.
He grabbed my hand in his and brought it up to his chest so I could feel his heart beat erratically.
"Niall, please," I bagged. "Keep going."
He finally gave in and wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in close, rocking deeply into me, meeting my hips against his with every thrust. He closed his eyes for a moment, sucking his bottom lip in as he quickened the pace until I began to moan loudly.
"You're gonna come," I said to him, feeling his cock twitch against my walls.
Niall nodded, intertwining both of our hands together. He was pressing his hips up, but I was doing most of the work now, moving myself up and down on his length. Every time I shifted upwards, my clit would rub against his pelvis, making my legs start to shake.
"Come, Niall," I told him, planting kisses along the side of his face. "Come for me. We'll do it together."
I felt the familiar knots and tightness in my stomach. Intense pleasure roared through me as I screamed Niall's name. His heightened with mine as he went over the edge, leaving him to release himself inside me as I clenched around his cock until we were both coming undone. We came together, both of us gripping and grabbing as tightly as we could until the sensations faded out and left us with just each other.
The high sent me collapsing onto his chest. The familiar numbness crept to my fingers, a feeling I hadn't had since the last time I was in bed with Niall.
I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, but when I tried to lift myself off him, he held me in place. His hand came up and brushed a strand of hair away from my face.
"Please," he said so quietly, I could barely hear him over our heavy breathing. "Can I stay?"
I sat up and looked at him. I should have told him no, from the very beginning. Because it all comes down to the ending; when he leaves with my heart open and bleeding once again.
But I didn't say that, instead I agreed and slid off him, getting under the sheets as Niall pulled me against his chest.
The two of us have gone our separate ways, distracted ourselves with different things. Letting go of love is not a quick process. You can move on, but you can't really unlove someone. That's what I learned when I tried to play a simple game of Yahtzee, only thinking of him whenever I picked up the dice to play my turn. When I tried deleting the pictures from my phone as if I could somehow erase the memories, make them less painful somehow.
Time didn't seem to exist in that bedroom. It could have been ten minutes or ten hours, but eventually Niall's hold around me loosened and he turned onto his back.
I tried, but sleep didn't seem to come to me. So instead of making an effort to fight the insomnia, I sat up and brought the white sheet up to my chest. Leaning against the headboard, looking down at the sleeping figure beside me as my throat closed up in the thought of leaving him again.
I messed up. I was young and stupid when I left, and now it was too late. I lost him.
There's something about falling for someone that changes the person you are. You learn the little quirks about yourself, the little things that make you tick, the little wants you have, the little ways you fall in love with yourself and another person.
I'm lying to myself if I say I can unlove him, piece by piece. That I can unlearn the curve of his lips, the creases of his eyelids, the way his hands tenderly touched my hips. The thing was, it was impossible. But I was in the process of letting him go. The memories in my head were only figments of images, fading with time. Now that he was here, making new ones, I had to start from the beginning all over again.
As much as I tried to hold it in, the pain came out like an uproar from my throat in the form of a silent scream. The tears started falling down one after another, without a sign of stopping. I had to bite my palm to keep from letting out a sob.
"This wasn't supposed to happen," I whispered into the silent room. "I should have walked away. But I'm so selfish, I can't let this go. I can't let you go."
My heart hurt. God, my heart hurt so badly I could barely breathe.
I could feel myself ripping in half; the only way from completely tearing in two was to lift my knees up to my chest and sob silently into my arm, my body shaking.
This was the first time in a long time that I cried myself to sleep.