Niall Hoan;

Thursday evening was when I remembered every part of Monday night. All that Piper had poured out to me was currently being written on the paper before me. It was clear, after I read it over a handful of times (six), that there were pieces missing but this was good. I had remembered what Piper hadn't been keen on repeating to me and that might just be my ticket to hearing the full story.

The gist of what I remembered was this: She met this guy named Brandon on the street corner she now currently performed at when she was headed to the beach, she had dropped everything in her bag onto the ground just as he had turned the corner, so he immediately helps her. From then on, they were inseparable. They date for a little over two years before he breaks up with her. This was three months ago.

That was all she told me that night.

I can easily add what I had inferred due to her song choices to the story but for some reason, I don't. Maybe it was because I wanted Piper to fill in the holes herself or maybe it was because I didn't want to be wrong. Either way, there was one thing that I was positive about and it was that that lad was an idiot.

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Around the corner is where I stand to listen to Piper Robinson sing the next day, not wanting her to see me due to our previous encounter. I was still wounded by her words that I couldn't see her without repeating the words she had said to me mentally. I leaned against the building and tilt my head towards the sky as she starts strumming.

"A hundred and five is the number that comes to my head when I think of all the years I wanna be with you, wake up every morning with you in my bad. That's precisely what I plan to do." The song was familiar but it wasn't one that I would consider being one I knew well. My eyebrows furrow when noticing just how soft her voice was. "And you know one of these days when I get my money right – buy you everything and show you all the finer things in life. Will forever be enough? So there ain't no need to rush but one day I won't be able to ask you loud enough."

I shut my eyes and sigh, anticipating the chorus to this song. I really wanted to peek around the building and watch Piper sing but I resisted, curling my hands into fists.

"I'll say, 'Will you marry me?' I swear that I will mean it. I'll say, 'Will you marry me?' Singing, ooh whoa ooh oh." My eyes shoot open at the word 'marry'. My breath gets caught in my throat as I stop leaning against the building and slowly peek around the corner to see Piper's eyes shut tight, her voice shaking so viciously that it seemed as if she were singing on a rollercoaster. She peeks her eyes open which in turn make a tear slid down her cheek. "How many girls in the world can make me feel like this? Baby I don't ever plan to find out. The more I look, the more I find the reasons why... you're the love of my life – "

And then that tear multiplies. Her hands drop her guitar to come up towards her face. Triggered, I immediately force myself through the crowd to get to her and just before I reach her I notice that her crowd didn't know anything about privacy.

"Get the hell out of here," I tell them, immediately snapping them out of their staring. It is only when they begin to scatter that I turn back to Piper, approaching her carefully. When she doesn't object, or doesn't notice me, I couldn't tell which one, I carefully remove her guitar from her shoulder and place it into its case before enveloping her into a tight hug one that she surprisingly accepted. I press my cheek to the top of her head and let my right hand rub soothing circles onto her back.

We stay like that for almost three solid minutes, her soft sobs being muffled by my t-shirt as she grips the back with her fists. She was holding on to me as if I was going to disappear any second, my heart hammered against my chest, no doubt that she could feel it, not only because of how I never wanted to let go but because Piper's walls that turned into an electric fence, has finally shut off.

"I'm sorry about that," she mumbles just before removing her head from below my chin. Slowly she releases my shirt and takes a step back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She chuckles, not meeting my eyes. "Good thing I didn't wear makeup."

When her arms wrap around herself I know that she's aware of how vulnerable she made herself to me, making me wish that I could just envelop her in another hug but if I did that I would guarantee she would punch me or something.

"You've never been more beautiful," I say, eyes not once twitching away from watching her.

She snorts and wipes a tear that cascades down her cheek. "Yeah, right. Bloodshot eyes and snot coming from my nose is not the ideal view of beauty."

I shake my head with a smile. "I wasn't talking about your appearance, God, no – you look awful."

She laughs and looks up to me, my heart nearly shattering when seeing the tears latch themselves to her lashes like dew – how her eyes were a lot lighter because of the strain crying has put on them – how her cheeks were so flushed that it seemed she fell in blush. "Then what?"

"Your vulnerability – you finally let go of everything that you were holding captive."

"Are all Europeans this pretentious?"

I grin. "Nope, just me."

Piper bites her lip and looks down at the cement. "I don't want to be here. Let's go somewhere." She then takes my hand, snatches up her guitar and drags me down St. Monica Boulevard swerving around those who stood in line for the sushi restaurant.

Next thing I know, we're in the same coffee place she dragged me to about two weeks ago. I rub my arm as we take a seat at one of the tables with our drinks, "I think you dislocated my arm."

"I could've done a lot worse," she says with a shrug. I stare at her, noticing how that if you hadn't seen her you wouldn't have known that she had just cried the only dead giveaway was how her eyes were shinier than usual. "Okay, blondie, enough with the staring."

"So what now?" I question, blowing the hot tea in attempt to make it a bit colder. (I've had some bad experiences with burning my tongue due to various hot beverages.)

"What do you mean?" She asks, drinking her coffee as if she was immune to heat.

I place my mug down and meet her eyes. "Are you letting me in or what?"

©2018 TypicalFangirlx
hope you all had happy holidays and I wish for a very happy 2018
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