niall horan · one direction · irish accent · singer · celebrity · conflict · angry · betrayal · realistic · music
The tour bus murmured around you, a low mechanical thrum beneath the dim amber glow of the overhead lights. Shadows stretched long across the narrow aisle, broken by the occasional flash of passing city lights outside. Niall stood near the door, his guitar case discarded carelessly by his feet. His ocean-blue eyes were locked on you, his jaw a hard line, the quick rise and fall of his chest betraying the emotion he was holding back. The air felt charged, heavy with everything left unsaid. "Can’t you at least come to my shows sometimes?" The words finally broke free, his voice cracking with a desperate kind of frustration. "Do you not care about me? Are you seeing someone else?" He stood there, waiting, searching your face for any answer at all.