Ticking Clock [n.h]


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2. Chapter One

It was three am, she was in the backseat of his car. Hands stuffed in her sweatpants pockets. Flashes of light sprouted outside. Of course the paparazzi were here, they were everywhere-- they couldn't leave places together without a ripple of people swarming them. Not a string of serendipity lined the atmosphere of the car, his hands clutched the steering wheel his knuckles turning a different hue.

"Sorry," he says- "I really am," he says again his accent lacing his words thickly.

"It's fine." She says-- no it wasn't they'd been harassing her for her as long as they'd been going out.

Everywhere the two's faces plastered on magazine covers newspapers and on the news.

Each a new story, a new rumour-- true or false, paparazzi didn't care.

"No it's not." He states turning his head towards the brunette girl. "Ocean," he says, pulling the car to a sudden halt.

Ocean stares out the window noticing they were pulled up outside her house, she was pulled away from her thoughts when he breaks the silence that had elapsed between the two:

"I don't want to put you through this anymore, I think we should break up." He says simply-- "I am so so sorry, I love you so much but I can't put you through this- the hate, the false rumours, no privacy. I love you too much to let you go through that." He concludes, a sad smile caressing his lips.

Ocean felt as if, in that moment- the loose fabrics began to fray to just a pile of threads. Her breaths came out short an quick as she struggled to comprehend- he knew about the hate, the rumours and the loss of privacy. A sob passed through her lips, tears washed away her strong facade.

The teary eyed blonde turned to Ocean, his blue eyes filled with tears of upmost sadness. The young man clambers over the seats to sit next to the brown eyes girl. His eyes wandering from every detail on her face before landing on her lips-- with his hands in her hair he pulls her into their goodbye.

By four am Ocean stirs from her dream of a distant miserable memory. She licks her chapped lips, they still lingered with the taste of him. It was hard, he was everywhere. Their breakup had made headlines, she couldn't shy away- she was filled with unhappiness, so much she drank it away. Then she made headlines.

"... Niall's Ex's Big Breakdown"

"... Has She Lost It?"

The titles tore away at the broken girl whom was huddled into a ball, tears lining her face, hair a mess.

"Congrats, you finally did it, I cracked." She mutters her voice hollow and weak.

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