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The Way We Move

0.Prelude

First of all, Niall Horan wasn’t depressed.

Maybe it was his utterly fabulous never-dyed (anymore) hair that swayed in sad-like motions, or the dark and heavy entities that half-circled below his eye lids, or the fact that it looked like he still wasn’t over the One Direction split-up back in year 20-something (well, maybe he indeed still wasn’t over it)—but the used-to-be singing teenage boy was terribly sure that he wasn’t depressed.

Nope. It was really simple, actually. He was just sad.

Sad—meaning you could still able to do anything or everything you liked in your daily life but still can feel the melancholic feeling behind your head. That was sad, not depressed. Mostly Niall Horan would tell this theory to the news reporters that followed the young 27-year-old man around Waitrose, but he never really bothered to now—seeing that they just stamped more depressed-Niall Horan news all over the world wide web, with a little imprint down below that they filmed him being a depressive little fuck speaking shit and theories and all.

In the duration out of his time after the band break-up, he never looked for girls unlike his fellow friend Harry who currently had too much old women clutching his arms making him look like the negative opposite of a pedophile. He was seriously this joyous, icky, romantic cheese ball but at the same he too was cynical on love. What he still wasn’t over off besides the break-up was the fact that he now alone all the time. He had never experienced such loneliness in so many years. In a usual morning, Niall would always wake up the first with the blankets above his arms, faintly hearing the distinct chirping of birds or the hallow echo of the house. He would mostly likely proceed in waking everyone up in haste for breakfast; except for Zayn, though. A heavy sleeper, that one.

Thinking about it, he really missed everyone. And that was all he did each day, reminiscing about the past… He was rich. He was slightly famous. But there was nothing else about him but his fast metabolism and his usual hunger for Nandos’ here and there. Niall Horan didn’t have pets to play with unlike Liam had, or children unlike Louis and Eleanor, women to be with unlike Harry, or a wife to love unlike Zayn… so what did Mr. Niall Horan do in his spare time? These days, eating big-ass Pizzas, calling up his friend Luke Hemmings, parading around the flat, and sleeping were the only things that kept him sane.

Some days he wished that things would go back to where it supposed to be—just five guys sitting on stairs and talking about unconventional things that couldn’t be, and then there were some days that he wished that he could go back to the start; days where everything were just taking its place. He wished that he talked to everyone more, form relationships stronger than it was now. If only he could bring the days back, he would.






However, it really surprised the hell out of Niall when he woke up a fine and dandy Thursday morning later; freshly blonde, crooked-teeth, and shockingly a young lady.

Notes

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Comments

@Miss Bunny :)

@directioneraya
Yup : )

Are ypu from Philippines? Because I am ! :)

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