"What's a pretty boy like you doing here in little old Holmes ChapeI?"
"Wanted a change of scenery I guess? What's it to you?"
"Nothing... Just isn't every day we get a new resident... I'm Harry by the way. Harry Styles."
"NiaII... Niall Horan. You can let go of my hand now."
"I was just shaking your hand."
"Then why are you still holding onto it?"
"Cause it's cold? I just wanted to warm it up is all. "
"My hands aren't cold... Yours are just abnormally warm. "
"If that's the case, then why are you shivering?"
Boring.
That is the only word I can think of to describe little old Holmes Chapel at the moment... Well I guess that and uneventful. But I personally consider those two words to be the exact same thing. Kind of like life here... It's the same thing over and over again. It's the same people, has been for as long as I can remember. Everyone knows everybody here, and it's a pain in my ass. I guess you could say that's part of the reason why I've got the reputation I have.
It's not my fault I'm looking for "the one".
Who am I kidding? I'm not... I just really enjoy sex. Sex is nice.
It gives me some kind of excitement in this boring old town.
Now before you go calling me a slut or a whore, I'll have you know that I don't have sex every
night with a lot of people. I get to know the person before I sleep with them, and well if they
"rock my world" I go for seconds.
Seconds... What an odd word.
I've never gone for seconds... Well unless you count dinner... My mum's homemade mac and cheese is to die for God I could use some of that right now...
Off track...
Anyways, I'm not a slut... but I do enjoy sex. Who doesn't though?
Oh, I can name someone right off the top of my head...
Wanna take a guess at who it is?
Take a guess.
Go ahead.
I bet you won't figure it out... I mean it isn't all that obvious.
Especially with how he acts. God, I know he fooled me. I thought he was a slut the moment
he walked outside of his house. (Before you call me a stalker, I'll have you know he's my
neighbor... I can kinda see into his bedroom... Oops?)
He dressed like a slut, with those damn tank tops that showed the top part of his chest... He
wore skinny jeans that just seemed to fit his ass perfectly.... It wasn't my fault I thought he
was a slut, he should've dressed more modest in my opinion.
He lived next to me for nearly a month before I introduced myself, not that I really needed to.
He knew who I was, just as well as I knew who he was. News around here traveled much like
fire, if I so much as petted a cat, everyone in the town knew about it with in twenty or so
minutes. It was what I grew up with, so I tried not to let it show that it bothered me when everyone knew about my every move. Maybe I wanted to pet that cat without everyone knowing... Maybe I just wanted to pet the cat in peace.
Off track again, I apologize.
Did you guess who my next door neighbor was?
Really, it's not too hard to guess.His name is Niall James Horan, he was born on September 13th, 1993 in Ireland if I remember correctly. ( I swear to god I'm not a stalker... It's just... When someone new moves
into town, you tend to hear everything about them pretty quickly.)
He was absolutley georgous in my opinion, with his deep blue eyes and his pasty white skin.
His hair wasn't naturally blonde, seemingly mixed with a darker brown. It was flawless
nonetheless, and I couldn't wait for the day I got to run my fingers through it... I imagined it to
be extremely soft... God it must be like feathers...
I wanted to run my hands up and down his body, making him both scream and whisper my
name as I did so.
It was safe to say I had some sort of creepy obsession with my next door neighbor, but how
could you not?
I hadn't even heard him speak a word yet and I already knew his voice was beautful...
God I need help.
Now the question is... mental or emotional help’?
Probably both if I'm being 100% honest here.
I blame him though, it's his fault I'm like this. If he wasn't so goddamn perfect I wouldn't feel
like this.
I guess it's safe to say that I wanted him? God how badly I wanted Niall Horan...
"Hey Niall, I was just wondering if you'd like to I don't know... Go out to dinner with me
tonight?"
"Depends. Is this a date?"
"If you want it to be? I would really like to get to know you better..."
"As long as it isn't a date I don't see anything wrong with it. What time?"
"Why not right now? The pub is just a few blocks away."
"Now? Harry it's two in the afternoon."
"Haven't you ever heard of Linner? Or is is Dunch? No it can't be Dunch cause that sounds
like dutch... "
"Harry."
"I wonder if the Dutch call it Dunch. Maybe they actually were the ones to invent it. It all
makes sense... I can die happily now."
"Harry, you're rambling. "
"Sorry. I tend to do that when I'm nervous."
"Oh... do you mind me asking why you're nervous?"
"I lost my cat this morning, so I'm nervous I'll never see her again. She was good cat... "

Notes