Rainboots. x narry

It didn't have to pour. The skies didn't have to cry. But you would always see him. Bush of curls and bright rain boots. A heart-warming dimpled smile. And a pop in his step. Making me fall in love with every stomp of his pretty bright feet.

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3. O N E.

   

You took dancing in the rain to a new degree, one only an angel could reach.

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niall's p.o.v

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Pit, Pat. 

Splish, Splash.

Stomp, Stomp.

These are the incredulous sounds i've been hearing since it started raining. Annoyance slowly began creeping in ten minutes into the rainfall and then I was more than willing to cut off someone's balls.

After a frustrating dozen more minutes, I abruptly stood up from the work desk I had been hunched over for two and a half hours. The algebra, chemistry and english I had been working on consuming more than twenty-five percent of my current frustration.

The amount of curse words escaping my lips would bring a sailor to shame. 

" Fucking ass sucking, son of a bitch, mother fucking cu- What the hell? "

My cussing came to a halt as I saw you there, rain boots and all, dressed for the gloomy whether. The temperature was barely above 0 degrees, and the skies look like they were to give you a week's bathing. The streets were MIA and it seemed like some imaginary tumbleweed was cascading the street.

Yet you still made it seem so lively, your bright aura and blinding smile seemed to have to have teleported me. The feeling of clouds tickling my pale skin and the sounds of harps slowly reverberating in my ears. 

As my eyes grazed your outfit a smile couldn't help cracking my pissed off facade. An adorable and over sized christmas sweater covered most of your little stature. Though it was eight months to early, the sweater still held a tremendous amounts of christmas spirit in it. The big rudolph the reindeer covering the dark green surface of the sweater screamed handmade. 

Under the sweater rested a pair of feminine black booty shorts, the shorts were tight and held unto your rump with hunger. They were short enough to portray the illusion of you wearing nothing under but still expose a little of the black fabric. 

The little gap between your shorts and your boots quickly caught my attention. Your skin was a nice tanned colour and your thighs held a prominent thigh gap. A sudden urge to touch your skin rested on the tips of my fingers, as my eyes lingered on them for a long period of time before my conscience forced me to keep moving. 

Resting on your petit feet were a pair of boisterous, bright red, rain boots. They moved elegantly and swiftly, as you twirled around in the middle of the street. They were the key to your captivating aura and fooling mask.

You seemed happy.

I thought you were happy.

If only I knew you were drowning in the rain you seemed so happy within.

 

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