You're driving down the motorway, Niall on the phone with you.
"Babe, are you sure you want to talk while you're driving?" he says for what seems like the hundredth time. You roll your eyes even thought he can't see it.
"Niall, I've had a lot of practice in this and it'll be fine, I haven't talked to you in a week, please let me do it now?" you beg, putting on the voice you know he can never resist. You hear a sigh.
"Okay then," he replies. You do a little cheer and continue the conversation you had been having before.
"So where are you taking me tomorrow?" you ask curiously. He chuckles.
"I'm not going to tell you that, my love," he tells you. You involuntarily pout.
"You know dealing with surprises is my weakness," you whine, really wanting to know.
"Well trust me, this surprise will be even better than the rest. It's going to be really, really special," he promises and you sigh.
"That isn't helping," you point out, but you smile. He loves surprising you and it's the cutest thing ever.
"Deal with it," he states in a fake stern voice.
"Yes sir," you reply automatically. He giggles.
"So what do I have to wear?" you then ask. Maybe it'll give you clues.
"Wow, thanks for the help, Horan," you snort, glancing at the lorry next to you.
Something cuts you off. Your eyes widen and you shriek. The lorry next to you has taken an unexpected swerve into your lane. It all goes too quickly as you're crushed against the walls that line the motorway, you hardly see anything. The only thing you can notice clearly is the pain. Oh that pain. And Niall's voice screaming your name like he is experiencing the exact same pain.
The next day, Niall is sitting outside a hospital. He's too shocked to notice the pitiful stares of passerby. He can't see the beautiful plants outside the hotel grounds. His eyes are blurred with years. He can't think. Wordlessly, he pulls out his phone and clicks on your contact. For a moment, he sits there, staring at the lines of your face, your eyes that seem to shine in even a mere photograph. He decides to call your phone.
Predictably, no one picks up. It goes over to voicemail.
"The person you are calling is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone."
The machine-like voice stops and Niall is left there, listening to the silence. Then he talks.
"Oh god. What a night. You were fighting for your life and I couldn't fight with you. Do you know how hard that is? Not being able to do anything? Not being able to save the girl I love? It's the worst thing ever, let me tell you. And I meet wanted you to suffer. But you did. In the end, death was stronger than you. And death took you. Death took the light of my life. Death took the reason I'm living. My reason is gone. You're gone. I can't believe it."
Niall sighs, pausing. Then he continues.
"It's all my fault. I let you stay on the phone. I was so selfish, I didn't even try to stop you properly. My want to talk to you was stronger than my reason."
He stops again, wiping away a few stray tears. It doesn't help. He decides to plough on valiantly.
"You know, I was going to propose to you today. That was the surprise. I was going to take you to the place my dad proposed to my mum. It was all supposed to be perfect. But then you died this morning at three fourteen. I don't blame it on you. I could never blame it on you."
Niall knows it's getting too much, so he cuts it short.
"I miss you, babe. And I love you. So much. And I'll keep doing that, even when my heart stops beating. I love you."
Four days after your death, Niall's coffin is lowered into a deep pit alongside yours. He just couldn't live on this earth without you. So he decided to live in heaven with you.
I don't know why, but I like writing sad imagines hehe. How was it? I've been thinking, the difference between social medias is so big. It's just interesting. I need some water, I haven't drunk anything all day.
I hope you're all doing okay x