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.


2. prologue.

lowercase intended.

you always liked the rain and you always used to say, " when the rain comes and it starts to pour, don't be sad, don't cry. because mother nature is wiping all the bad and taking all the good to make room for something even better. "

maybe thats why it rained when i met you. maybe mother nature was wiping away all my sins to bless me with you, a new beginning.

god, i sound like such a sap. me, niall horan. slut of the year, head over heels for the most immature and purest little shit on earth.

it was so stupendous how oblivious and innocent you could get. i mean it was one thing to wear bright red hunter rain boots everyday. but to ignore all of those your demons?

that was a gift baby. and maybe everyone didn't acknowledge the second one, i sure as hell did.

but it wasn't the boots that caught my eye, it was the way that even though you seemed so approachable, and connected with everyone. you were so fucking far harry.

you were like in your own world, with so much walls put up and not enough bridges to connect us. i thought i was halfway. close enough for you to turn around, take a few steps, and be able to touch you. hold you and caress you. but you walked, and you walked. and you never looked back.

and when you were gone from my reach, i finally knew what you meant when you said." with love comes lost and lost, inevitable pain. because if it hurts it matters. "

                                                         because, if mattering was pain, you were torture.





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