#his tie is fucked up. his shirt is wrinkled and the buttoned oddly. his hair is a little messy. nothing extremely noticeable

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

brief break from the Grind to doodle some thp art with a way better title i thought up of just now ripp (not gonna change the title im too attached to the tag)

[niallismymuse]

Wedding Date

“Are ya ready to get this wedding shindig done?” Niall’s voice crackles through your phone, and you wince at the static, throwing the device a reproachful look. You dry your hands, ignoring the wrinkled look of them – you haven’t been washing dishes for that long, but your skin is always so sensitive.

“Ready enough,” you reply after plucking your phone up and turning the speaker off, holding it against your ear. “I still have to get my nails done.”

Marley and David, two close friends of yours, are getting married tomorrow. They’re friends of Niall’s too, so he’s also invited to the big event. And because of that, the two of you decided to go together, since you’re both single.

“You’ve got time for that. Remember, I’m picking you up tomorrow at noon.” He reminds you, and you smile despite yourself, rolling your eyes.

“Yes sir, I will remember that.” You snip back, padding into your bedroom and throwing yourself back onto the bed. You let out a little ‘oof’ as your back hits the covers, and Niall lets out a quiet cough on the line.

“Ya alright?” he asks, suddenly sounding concerned. “Ya didn’t hurt yourself, right?”

You bite your lip, trying hard not to over-analyze everything he’s just said. “No no, Ni, I’m good. I just threw myself back on my bed.”

“Oh. Uh, good.” He clears his throat. “Can’t have my date to the wedding out of commission.” He laughs, and you laugh too, though it’s a bit forced.

Date. As if.

You have known Niall ever since you moved to London three years ago, and you just happened to become friends with those in his circle. Slowly, your own friendship progressed, and now he’s your best friend, the person you’d tell almost anything to.

Anything except for the fact that you’ve been in love with him for a year.

“Yeah,” you sigh out, admittedly a beat too late. “Listen, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ve got to get those nails done.”

He’s quiet for a second. “Alright love. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After hanging up, you toss your phone behind you on your bed and exhale harshly. This wedding is going to be tough. Specifically, because you and Niall had agreed to attend together – not togethertogether, but as friends. Obviously. Which means that you’ll both be dressed up, and he’ll look sogood, and you’ll be with him all evening.

It’s going to be torture.

What happens if, at the wedding, some beautiful woman comes up and starts hitting on him? And, even worse, what if he’s into it? How in the world will you possibly deal with that? Do people even do that on weddings? You’re pretty sure you’ve read wedding drama like that on the Internet.

But there’s no point in dwelling on it now. You have nails to get done.

~

“See, look how nice!” You exclaim to Niall, holding your hands in front of his face, fingers spread wide. Your nails are painted a dark, shimmery blue. He squints at them, as if he’s examining them closely for flaws, and you smack his shoulder. He cackles, tossing you a wide grin as you frown.

“They look great, love. And so do you. The blue is an excellent color on you.” He smiles, gaze traveling slowly up your body, from the tips of your toes, up. You flush under the intensity of his eyes, shifting slightly.

You’re clad in a dress that matches your nails, dark blue with a shimmery top. It flares out at your hips, hugging nicely to your frame. It ends just below your knees. You picked it out weeks ago, pleased with the coloring and the shape of it.

“Thanks,” you cough out, trying not to look too thrilled by the compliment, “you don’t look half-bad yourself.”

Niall let’s out a throaty laugh, tipping his head back. “Thank you so much,” he chuckles, and then offers you his arm. If possible, you flush harder, and thread your arm through his. He leads you gracefully to his car, even pausing to open the door for you and help you inside before hopping in the driver’s side and taking off. Very gentlemanly.

And you underexaggerated, of course. Niall looks far better than you let on. He’s dressed in a pair of black, pressed pants, with a dark blue button-down shirt and matching tie. The shirt fits tightly, but not tootightly, and his shoulders look so fucking broad you want to die. That’s not even bringing up his thighs,in those fucking pants –

The worst part is that you two nearly match, in an endearing sort of way, but you can’t think about that too much.

“You do look really good, Ni.” You comment after a minute of driving, pointedly staring out the window. You don’t want to see the cocky smirk that’s sure to pull across his lips, because if you do, you’re going to be leaping across the seat and kissing it off of his lips. That will surely cause an accident. And more than likely ruin a friendship.

However, his voice is quiet when he answers, oddly subdued. “Thank you.” Niall answers, and when you glance over at him, he’s still looking at the road, though there’s a faint smile tugging at his lips, and pink spots on his cheeks.

The wedding is set outside of London, on a large property with a mansion-esque home and a pond set behind it. The ceremony will take place outside on the grounds, by the pond. The reception will occur directly inside, following a cocktail hour. You haven’t been inside before, and you’re excited to see the décor – and the wedding as a whole, of course.

Love is in the air. That’s the only thought in your mind as Niall parks his car. It’s spring-time, so everything is flowering. There’s a small, stone-lined pathway leading from the parking area to behind the house, where rows of chairs are set up in neatly together. The rows are separated into columns by a white carpet, which is surely where Marley will be walking down towards the altar shortly.

Niall, once again, offers his arm to you, and you take it, unable to stop yourself from grinning widely at him. He grins back, and then uses his free hand to brush a stray hair behind your ear. You blink, unable to process it, and he smirks to himself before leading you down the pathway to the chairs.

You find your places, and Niall is seated right next to you, of course. He spreads his legs wide once he’s sat, thigh brushing against yours, and you freeze in your seat. Does he fucking haveto? Absolutely not.

Other guests arrive and take their seats, and you bite your lip, smiling and waving at other friends as they come to sit down. David has taken his spot at the altar, and he’s smiling nervously and shuffling on his feet. As soon as the music starts, he visibly takes a deep breath and lets it out, beaming down towards the end of the aisle.

The ceremony is beautiful, Marley is resplendent, and you’re nearly in tears at the end of it. You would be, if one thing hadn’t happened: some time during the ceremony, Niall had set his hand on his thigh. Normally, this wasn’t a problem, but due to his stance, his thigh was pressed flush against yours. So half of his hand was on his thigh, and the other half is on yours.

You wonder if he notices. You definitely can feel it – his hand is pleasantly warm, and so fucking big. You’re trying not to call attention to it as the couple reads through their vows, but there’s a part of you that’s confused. Surely, he’s noticed his hand is partly on you. Why hasn’t he moved it?

You don’t get much of a chance to dwell on it further, because suddenly the ceremony is over, and everyone is standing up and cheering as the newly-weds grin and bow cheekily. Niall stands up too, removing his hand from your thigh, and you blink at its loss. You’re suddenly unsure of how to proceed from here, but you stand up and clap and cheer with everyone else.

Marley and David exit down the carpet and are removed to go have wedding photos taken, and since neither one of you are in the wedding party, you’re free to go inside.

“Let’s go have a drink,” Niall suggests, looking at you with raised brows.

“Oh, thank god, yes,” you sigh out in relief, because you’re not sure how you’re going to get through this reception next to him without alcohol. He looks at you in a puzzled way, so you cough and add, “oh, you know, weddings…they get to me.”

He seems to buy it, and the two of you head inside.

It’s a little chilly inside, and you shiver at the temperature change. Outside it was a little breezy, but the sun was shining directly on you. Well, at least your makeup isn’t going to sweat off.

You’re the first people at the bar, and the bartender whips you both up some wonderful, alcohol-infused concoctions. Niall was more prone for a beer, but he insisted. At the taste, Niall grins and shrugs, muttering that “it will do”.

After wandering away from the bar, you look up at him. “So. What now?”

“Wasn’t that a beautiful wedding?” Niall comments, taking a sip of his drink.

That didn’t answer your question, but it’s a start. “Yeah, it was really lovely, actually. It was a gorgeous day outside. The vows were really cute.” The vows part, at least, you’re not sure of, because you had been preoccupied by a certain someone’shand.

“I’ve always thought I’d like a wedding like that.” He murmurs in a rare serious moment, a faraway look in his eyes. You bite down on your lip, tilting your head to the side. What’s this all about? Niall has never been afraid to be proudly single and unattached – you’ve never really heard him yearn for a relationship.

“You’ve thought about it?” You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Yeah,” he replies, seeming to come back to himself. “You haven’t?”

You shake your head, and then shrug. “Well…maybe when I was a kid, yeah. But not any time recently. I haven’t ever really expected to…end up with anyone.” The last words leave your mouth as a whisper, because, well, that’s been your secret thought. That you would wind up alone. It doesn’t scare you really, because you do just great on your own, but it’s not exactly cheerful.

Niall’s eyes nearly bug out of his head. “What?!” he spits out, looking at you indignantly. Then his look softens, and the gentleness in his eyes makes your soul hurt. He reaches out and grabs your hand. “Love, you’re incredible. Any bloke would be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks, Ni,” you say sincerely, and he keeps holding your hand, stroking his thumb across the back of it. It makes you shiver, and he immediately drops your hand, cursing to himself.

“Shit, you’re cold, can’t have that,” he mumbles as he draws his jacket off of his shoulders, laying it across yours instead. Your cheeks pinken, and you shake your head wordlessly. This conversation has just…evolved past anything you ever expected.

You laugh out, “thanks again”, and Niall smiles softly at you, before proceeding to take your hand and lead you to the assigned table you’ll be seated at.

The feel of his hand in yours marvels you. You can feel the calluses etched into his palm, and the thickness of his fingers. These are both things you’ve known he has, but to feelthem, against your own hand…you’re drunk on him. The world is spinning slightly, and you’ve barely had two sips from your drink.

Niall, ever the gentleman, pulls your chair out for you and then settles you in before sitting down himself.

The rest of the evening flashes by with the bat of an eye. One minute you and Niall are chatting about everything and nothing, and the next, dinner is finished, and the sweet couple is beginning their first dance together. It’s lovely and beautiful, and you can’t help sighing to yourself as you watch.

Niall shifts slightly but doesn’t comment, watching along with you. Once Marley and David have finished, they bow, and you stand up to applaud them. Marley’s eyes meet yours and she grins, throwing you a little wink before turning to peck her husband on the lips.

The dance floor is open to everyone now. It starts out with the little kids running out and bopping to whatever tune is playing. Slowly, more and more people flock towards the activity, and suddenly the dance floor is full of people dancing and having a good time. You’re not one of them.

Niall must notice your urge to get out there, because after a light touch to your wrist, he flicks his eyebrows up and asks, “dance with me?” with a cocky smirk and all. Your stomach flips, butterflies making their presence known, and you smile and nod.

“Yes, please,” you reply demurely, and before he can stand up, you get to your feet and curtsy in front of him, extending an elegant hand. “Niall Horan, will you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

His eyes light up. He takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to the back of it, and your face ignites. “The honor would be all mine.” He stands, gripping your hand firmly, and leads you out to the dance floor.

A fun, poppy song is playing when you get there, and neither one of you particularly knows how to dance, so you just sway and hop together, giggling like mad. Niall grabs your finger and twirls you, and a laugh bursts past your lips. He does some sort of funky move that’s like a cross between the Egyptian and the sprinkler. You don’t even think it can ever be replicated, and you’re laughing so hard you’re nearly crying.

The music changes and shifts into a slow song. Couples all around you pull each other close, smiling happily. You’re about to suggest getting out of everyone’s way, at least for this song, when Niall tentatively takes a step closer, then shyly places his hands on your waist, smiling sweetly at you. Your breath hitches in your throat.

You make no move to pull away, instead you set your hands on his upper arms. You’re overwhelmed by the closeness of him – his lips are mere centimeters from yours, and his grip on your waist is firm. You can feel the muscles in his arms shift as he slowly starts to sway the two of you side-to-side.

Your throat is dry, and you swallow harshly. Niall’s eyes track the movement, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “So,” he starts, but then he seems to not know how to finish. He pauses, just looking at you, and you can’t help but laugh quietly, frazzled as you are.

“So?” you giggle back, and he grins, ducking his head. “What do you mean, so?”

“So,” he spits back, chuckling, “how are ya feeling?”

You roll your eyes. “Really, Horan? That’s what you want to know?”

The slight swaying stops, and Niall frowns at you slightly. Your heart jumps into your throat, and your lips part, because you didn’t mean to upset him –

But then he lifts one of his hands from your waist and brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, and you nearly faint.

“No. It’s not what I wanted to know.”

Everything slows down around you. It’s just you and Niall. He’s gazing intently down at you, blue eyes locked on your own. “I wanted to know how ya feel about me.”

“Uh, Niall-“ you stutter out, heart thumping hard in your chest, but he plows on.

“Because I know how I feel about ya, and I’m pretty sure ya feel the same way. I’ve liked ya…for so long now, love. It’s drivin’ me crazy. You’redrivin’ me crazy. Ya just…came into my life and turned it upside down, and I’m done pretendin’ that you didn’t. I want to be with ya, and I love ya. You’re sweet, and so fuckin’ funny, not to mention beautiful. You’re…all that I want, all that I could everwant.”

After his little rant, Niall’s face is a little flushed, and he’s still staring intently down at you. Your mouth is wide open. You don’t even know how to react. Niall Horan…lovesyou? How could he possibly love you, out of all of the other women he has met in his life?

“I don’t…I don’t know what to say.” You manage to get out. How are you alive in this moment? How has the floor not cracked and opened beneath your feet? Surely you’re actually dead, and this is some sort of dream or vision or something. This can’t be real.

He sighs. “Ya could start with tellin’ me how ya feel. I’ve been tryin’ to drop hints all day.”

Your eyes widen. “So that’swhat you were trying to do. I thought it was all just…a mistake.” You’re flustered, unable to articulate properly what you want to say. His confession has left you close to tongue-tied.

“Never. You’re not a mistake to me.” Niall says fervently, before pausing. “Well. Maybe more of a happy accident.”

You punch his shoulder and he cackles, that fully-belly laugh erupting from him. You smile and giggle, unable to help it, even as the other couples around you stop and stare.

“C’mon, love. Just tell me. Did I put myself out here for nothin’?”

You shake your head, taking a step closer, until your body is brushing up against his. His eyes darken, and you smile up at him, taking your sweet time. “I love you too, Ni. I have for at least a year. You are…the most incredible man that I have ever met. And I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

Niall looks pleased, grinning widely like he’s never seen the light of day and now he’s bathed in it. Without waiting another moment, he leans down and presses his lips to yours hard, before pulling back just as quickly. You stare at him, shocked, and he smiles sheepishly. “Sorry. I, uh, got a little excited.”

You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him hard, and he laughs against your lips before kissing you back with all that he’s got.

Right then, out of everyone to notice, Deo suddenly starts hooting and hollering. “Lookie here! Ol’ Niall finallydecided to tell her how he feels. It’s been ages, mate! Took ya long enough.”

You rest your forehead on Niall’s shoulder as Deo continues to razz the both of you, smiling even as he continues his childish teasing. “Fuck off, Deo, you’re makin’ a scene,” Niall grumbles out to him, flipping him the bird. You laugh as Deo flips it right back.

“Oh, c’mon mate, ya know I’m happy for you. Just takin’ the piss out of you is all.”

Niall rolls his eyes and shoos his cousin away. “What a bloody idiot.”

“You can say that again.” You reply, shaking your head.

Niall tips your chin up with his finger, smirking down at you. “Now, where were we?”

Instead of answering him, you merely press your lips to his once more.