Niall Horan imagines

Your blind

Niall: “Tell me what you look like.” You whisper to Niall, feeling of his hands, intertwined with yours, your favorite place. He can make you feel secure simply by holding your hand. His finger runs across your knuckles as he talks, describing himself to you. “I’m taller than you. You can feel how tall I am when you kiss me.” He starts but you interrupt him. “Your face.” He clears his throat, starting again. “You’ve felt my hair. It’s light.” He continues. “What color are your eyes?” You ask. “They’re blue.” He answers simply. “I don’t know what blue looks like. Are most people’s eyes blue?” You continue. “Not a lot of the people you know. Only Louis and I have blue eyes in the band.” He says to you. A tear falls from your eye, the thought that you may not ever see him triggering your tears. Immediately he pulls you into his arms. “I bet you’re beautiful.” You sob, your hands on each of his cheeks. “No, you’re beautiful.”