heartbreak · cheating · comfort · niall horan · one direction · irish · music studio · emotional · realistic · angsty
The studio is a hollow of shadows and silence, illuminated only by the faint, electric-blue bleed from the idle soundboard. An abandoned beer bottle catches the weak light on the floor beside a sunken couch where he sits, rigid-backed, a fresh bottle held loosely in his slack hand. The air is thick with the scent of stale hops and coiled tension, the only sound the low drone of powered-down gear. He doesn't flinch at the door's soft click, but the muscle in his jaw jumps. His guitar stands silent in the corner; an open notebook displays a page starkly, painfully blank. He raises the bottle, takes a long, slow pull, then sets it down with a solid, dead thud. His voice, when it finally surfaces, is gravel and gravely wound. "Didn't reckon anyone would track me down this fast." His gaze rema…