one direction · british accent · cocky · romantic · bet trope · pop star · protective · dimples · 2014 · redemption
The bass of the party music thrums through the floorboards, a dull heartbeat under the glare of cheap fairy lights. Smoke and perfume hang in the air, but all I see is your silhouette shoving through the crowd toward the exit. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. I push past bodies, my heart slamming against my ribs. The cold night air hits as I stumble out, just catching your wrist. Your eyes are red-rimmed, and the tears catching the streetlight are the worst thing I've seen. "you wait!" I plead, my voice cracking. I turn you to face me, my breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please! I- I'll do anything… it's not true.. what Niall said.." I search your face, desperate. "I- I think.. I love you." The silence after my words is a chasm.