Array
(
[text] =>

 

‘…so, that day, I just finished reading a book in the library which our History teacher, Mr. Gray, required us to read for a quiz or something like that the next day. Then as I walked out the hallways towards the parking lot so I could get my bike, I saw a guy, my classmate actually, Harry Styles. He had this funny look on his face like me being there was wrong. And it actually felt like it. And as I stepped out trying to shrug off his weird behavior, a very hard object came down on me hitting me flat on the ground. The last thing I could remember was people chattering around me, medics carrying me to an ambulance and darkness. I couldn’t see a thing and I was terrified to death. I wished, at that moment, for a light to just appear and guide me out of the darkness I was put in. But, sadly, that light never came…until now.’

 

 

I exhaled in relief as I ended my tragic tale.

 

 

It felt actually good when I tell people my story.

 

 

Like a portion of me is shared to others and a chunk of my trauma and grief fades away.

 

 

I understood the silence that comes from people after I narrate my tale, but the silence between me and Zayn felt new and bizarre.

 

 

It was dead silent for an extensive amount of time that I was a bit worried that he left after hearing my fucked-up life.

 

 

But it wouldn’t surprise me if he did.

 

 

‘Are you there?’

 

 

I asked smiling.

 

 

I guess the hand cupping mine meant yes.

 

 

I can’t help but feel uneasy when a part of him is in contact with me.

 

 

However, these sweet gestures also give me a good reassurance that a day with him is complete and safe.

 

 

‘Why so silent?’

 

 

I asked as the troubling and thickening silence continued.

 

 

I felt his hands leaving mine and I felt weirded out by his freaky behavior.

 

 

Suddenly, arms went around me and brought me close to a hug.

 

 

Nothing could be louder than the fast beat pounding of my heart at that instant.

 

 

This is the first time I’ve been this close to him.

 

 

It felt like his embrace was enough protection from all the worries.

 

 

In his arms, I was happy, complete and safe.

 

 

In his arms, I feel loved.

 

 

There was no other action I could do that moment, in response to his warm hug, but to just hug him back.

 

 

Although I was still mystified by his reaction after hearing my story, I gave in to his loving touch.

 

 

As if worrying is inexistent while I was under his arms.

 

 

The smell of his musky cologne almost lulled me to slumber and the idea of staying like this forever with him made me cling to him tighter.

 

 

God knows, I never want to let go.

 

 

‘Where do you wish to go, Niall?’

 

 

He finally spoke.

 

 

‘The canteen. I’m starving.’

 

 

I replied smiling finally hearing his voice.

 

 

‘No, I mean where do you wish to go? Like outside the hospital walls.’

 

 

I loosened my grip on him and untangled myself from his embrace.

 

 

I tilted my head in confusion.

 

 

‘Seriously?’

 

 

I asked incredulously.

 

 

‘Yes. Seriously.’

 

 

He assured.

 

 

I thought about it for a second and finally I answered:

 

 

‘The beach.’

 

 

The beach holds the greatest and best memory I had.

 

 

Especially because that memory exudes all the love my parents could provide on us.

 

 

However, no matter how much bliss and happiness this memory contains, pain just won’t stop from flooding in with it.

 

 

Why?

 

 

Because thememoryI had in there was and will be the last moments I had with them. 

[text_hash] => 96126c69
)