Roses for Roselyn (Niall and Harry Fanfictions)

She was just an ordinary, grounded girl with a young, obsessive sister... little did she know that her sister's biggest idol was obsessing over her. Join Rosie and Rachel on their journey in love, friendship, obsession, fame and passion. What will happen? Who will happen? And most importantly, how will they cope with the disadvantages of 'the good life'?


147. Confetti


Harry and I go out onto the balcony a short while before everyone else makes their way out, securing ourselves a spot at the front, leaning over the metal banister. The London Eye is dead centre and opposite us, giving us the best views in the house –better than anybody standing around us or the monstrous crowds on the pavement below.

Before the count down, a few groups of young girls down by the river survey the area and coincidentally end up seeing Harry, meaning that whole groups of people are turned around to look up at us as they scream and shout for him. “Harry! Harry over here!” Fans scream, as well as some other members of the public who recognize him. Who wouldn’t? Everybody, whether it’s your daughter, mother or grandmother, all know who Harry Styles is.

Many people start to take out their phones, taking pictures of my infamous boyfriend. He smiles and waves but I’m faced with a challenging predicament. “Harry should I go off and wait until the countdown starts? They’re taking pictures of us.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he turns to me smiling. “Just wave and do what you want –I can post something on twitter later to stop them from jumping to any conclusions.” He takes my hand behind our backs, the only place that they won’t be able to see it, and I trust him; smiling at the fans and waving to them as they call for Harry and ‘his friend’. This isn’t so bad, I tell myself.

They’re all distracted and turn back around to face the front as someone in a small gated area by the river wall speaks into a microphone, meaning that her voice is projected for miles on either side of the river, by the large speakers that run parallel to the water. “Is everybody ready? We’ve got just over a minute to go!” I can see the blonde news reporter, who works for the BBC, on a screen that’s been put up for the crowds at the back, so that they can see what’s going on. She crosses over to one of the metal fences to speak to an older looking gentleman. “Hello sir. Where are you from?” The guy is bearded and extremely enthusiastic.

“Finland!” He half-shouts into the microphone.

“And why did you choose to come to London for New Years Eve?”

“Beautiful city! Beautiful, the river is too fun.” Harry smiles from beside me at the poor man’s mistake, but it’s such a lovely atmosphere that no one minds –we are knitted together as one festive community. “I visit family!”

“Great, well I hope you have a lovely evening sir!”

She moves on to talk to a few more people along the metal grates before the countdown reaches 30. “Now. We have just over 30 seconds to go, so everybody, whether you’re at home, standing in the crowd or at a late night party, count down with me now, and from the whole of the BBC, we wish you a very happy new year!”

“30, 29 , 28, 27, 26…!” Harry clasps my hand even tighter and people around us merrily sway with their drinks in hand. I give the curly haired boy next to me a huge smile.

“19, 18, 17, 16, 15…!”I raise my vodka coke into the air toasting with everybody else –wishing goodbye to 2013 and welcoming the next year with open arms –literally.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!” The whole of London screams out together! The noise is deafening and the first few fireworks go off from the boats placed up and down the river whilst a loud source of music starts to play from the speakers. The fireworks are beautiful; the colours bright and vivid in against the black canvas of the sky. It makes me feel so nostalgic, so euphoric. I lean into the side of Harry’s chest, keeping my eyes on the spectacular show whilst people cheer from everywhere around us; ‘ooh’ing and ‘aah’ing at each fizzle and bang.

Harry tightens his free arm around me -letting it hang over my neck- and then he leans into me, chuckling as I feel his breath on my ear. Before anyone can notice or see, he dives straight for my lips, pecking them quickly and then pulling away with a wink in his eyes.

“Happy New Year!” I shout over the music as it blends from each anthemic song of 2013, and lean up on my toes to kiss his cheek. He looks so happy bless him, and then the song transitions into ‘Best Song Ever’ -making all the fans scream below us- and suddenly all I can see on his face is pride and love for the people around us.

He looks out onto the river; blue and pink bursts of light reflecting in his eyes. I can tell he wants to say something, so I wait for him patiently whilst he chews on his lips. “What?”

He turns back to me, smiling. “Nothing, I was just hoping that we might be able to make that a tradition.”

“I hope so,” I laugh, leaning back over the banister, reaching my fingers out to reach some of the confetti being blown across the streets by industrial fans and the breeze. “You’re not getting rid of me that quickly Styles.”

He joins me, reaching out further than I can, his fingers brushing past mine to grab a few pieces of golden confetti so that he can hold them out to me. I take them from him with a shy smile, letting out a tiny, nervous giggle. I shiver at the touch of his warm skin, my heart beating a million times faster as he looks at me with those soft eyes; making a subconscious promise to let me love him for as long as possible. 


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