Pawn Shop Blues

And then he was talking to her everyday.

Niall Horan was driving Olivia insane, insane enough for it to be advisable for her to walk away. He was extremely hot and cold, one minute disappearing at a party after talking to her all night and the next showing up in Downpatrick like a knight in shining armor. But something about that was enticing to Olivia, as much as she hated to admit it. For some reason, Niall Horan was paying attention to her and it was putting her on cloud nine.

She had so many other things she needed to be focusing on. Perhaps, the sixteen credits weighing her down this semester – art history, art, creative writing, running most of her time – or maybe the fact that her brothers were practically raising themselves and Einin at the same time, or perhaps worst of all that in a few short weeks, her best friend would be leaving the country.

But all she could think about was Niall Horan. And he wasn’t making it easy when he was texting her every so often – with silly pictures, silly anecdotes, silly nothing. Silly, silly Niall. Silly, silly Olivia.

“What are you smiling about?” Daria questioned from her spot on her bed, a amused look playing on her lips as she held a page in her Populations textbook.

Olivia caught herself smiling at her phone, held in her paint-free left hand. Niall had just texted her a picture of him in the mirror, having just woken up from a nap. His hair was wild, blonde tips askew in a blissful mess. Olivia couldn’t help but smile.

“Nothing,” Olivia hummed, shaking her head. “Carrig just sent me a picture of Einin at footie practice.”

Olivia didn’t know what compelled her to lie to her best friend about her interaction with Niall. She knew very well that Daria was perhaps too supportive of her interest in Niall. But perhaps that support was what turned Olivia off from the truth. She was certain that things weren’t going to work out between her and Niall – how could they, anyway? – and she wasn’t about to embarrass herself by talking about her schoolgirl crush with Daria.

She was much better at listening about love than talking about it herself. The thought made her stomach squirm.

“I wish I’d gotten to meet them,” Daria sighed, rolling over on her bed to stare at the ceiling distantly.

Olivia smiled at her weakly. “Maybe someday. You’ll be back, right?”

Daria didn’t say anything.

Things with Daria had been a rollercoaster the last semester. She was learning how to be a normal human being again after losing her father in September Eleventh, trapped in one of the Twin Towers on impact, and escaping her depressed mother, trapped in the misery of it all. Somehow she ended up with Harry Styles, despite all the anxiety she dealt with everyday.

She’d changed so much since the first day Olivia had met her, when she was a shy little girl afraid of getting close to anyone. It had been nearly four months now, four months of new friends, new love, new self-assurance. Olivia relished in watching Daria grew into her best friend, but god, sometimes she scared the shit out of her with her anxiety.

She’d watched her worry herself into the hospital once during the semester, and she feared that it would happen all over again when she had to leave. When she had to go back to her broken home, her broken life, everything. When she had to leave Harry. When she had to leave Olivia.

“Are you okay?” Olivia asked, not entirely expecting a response. This happened a lot.

Daria shrugged. “Just thinking.”

Her hands were shaking in that familiar, telltale way, showing that her anxiety was getting the best of her. Immediately, Olivia thought to get her mind off it, beckoning her over to look at a painting she was working on on the floor – her best, most artistic place, oddly enough.

“Come here and look at this,” Olivia called, waving her friend over with her paint splattered hand. Daria slipped out of bed, her hair tied up in that old top knot she never quite let go of despite all her growth. With a half-interested face, Daria considered the painting in front of them, her expression slowly slipping into intrigue.

“It’s beautiful, Liv.”

Olivia was working on a portrait of a man, a man she didn’t know immediately but she somehow knew in her heart. She just let her hands go to work, and a few hours later, she was working out the final details of his likeness, a likeness very similar to –

“Sorry we’re late,” a familiar voice announced in the room, and both girls snapped their heads up to see Harry and Zayn standing in the doorway. They’d caught Olivia off guard, nearly causing her to smear paint all over her work. Zayn smiled at her apologetically before kneeling down to kiss her cheek in greeting.

“Didn’t mean to scare you love,” he hummed.

“No harm done,” she replied coolly before returning to her work.

Daria crossed the room to kiss Harry softly, a little smile coming to both their lips as they pulled apart. “Where’s Niall?”

Olivia’s heart skipped a couple beats right in her chest. Niall was supposed to be with them? He was supposed to be standing right in that doorway, looking at her painting in her messy paintclothes and disheveled hair? Maybe he was coming later.

“We tried to call him before we left but he didn’t answer,” Harry replied with a shrug, looking to Zayn, who nodded in confirmation. Olivia knew it was because he was sleeping, but she didn’t dare say. Daria let out a hum of frustration, glancing to Olivia with a sympathetic look.

“I was hoping I could maybe set you two up somehow,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Leave it to Niall to go missing when I need him.”

“Meddling doesn’t suit you, Daria,” Zayn chided, squeezing at her top knot, much to her displeasure.

Suddenly, there was a looming shadow over the painting at Olivia’s lap. She glanced up to see Harry, lips curled into a loose smile, messy fringe hanging tightly around his features.

“That’s beautiful,” Harry complimented softly. “He has your eyes.”

“Thanks,” she murmured back, hoping the shakiness in her voice didn’t give away her nerves. Why hadn’t Niall told her that he was coming to visit with the other boys? Why was Daria trying to set them up without her knowing?

Eventually the three had left to do whatever business they had to attend to, Olivia insisting she needed to stay and do her work. But she found that she couldn’t work, she was so rattled by the fact that Niall was planning on just showing up in her room, catching her entirely off guard. Who did he think he was to do such a thing?

But at the same time, the thought of seeing him made her insides turn into fizz, like her blood had suddenly turned to champagne. Her head was light with the thought of seeing him, his face in her doorway, smiling and laughing. It was too much. She had to take a break and lean her head against her bed to support it from floating away.

“Getting lazy are we?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. Niall.

“Niall!” she exclaimed, her skin pinking at her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

His lips were spread into a wide smile, white teeth gleaming in the florescent light. Leave it to Niall to make even the most unflattering of settings look damn sexy. He was wearing a pair of old jeans and a sweater, the cold weather getting to him. But Olivia could hardly mind – in fact, she was fighting not to swoon instead.

“Well, I was supposed to come visit with Harry and Zayn but the wankers left without me,” he mumbled with a shrug, his smile only widening. “I guess that’s what I get for napping.”

“You can’t just surprise me like that!” Olivia sputtered, amazed at his nonchalance. He really was planning on just showing up in her dorm room entirely unannounced to her, allowing Daria to set them up. This excited and terrified her.

“Oh, Olivia, where’s your sense of adventure?” he teased.

Her heart stilled in her chest.

“They’re not here, you know,” she muttered, tucking a stray hand of hair behind her ear, only to realize it was with her painted hand. “You missed them.”

“That’s fine,” he replied quickly, not missing a beat. “I mainly came to hang out with you anyway.”

Oh, Olivia could have died right then.

“I’m not doing much anyway,” she grumbled, wishing she had at least brushed her hair and had it loose around her shoulders rather than in the messy ponytail ratted at the back of her head. “Just painting.”

“I didn’t know you were an artist,” he replied, his eyebrows piquing.

“Artist is maybe a strong word…” Olivia responded, fumbling over her own tongue. But before she could hide her work, Niall was clambering to sit beside her, his sweater brushing the skin on her bare arms, sending goose bumps across her entire body. He let out a little gasp of surprise upon seeing the face of the man in front of them.

“Liv, that’s amazing.”

Liv.

“You think so?” she asked, unable to shoot down his compliment. It just sounded so deliciously genuine coming from his lips. He nodded vigorously next to her, almost childlike in his excitement. She loved that about Niall – he was always living his emotions to the exact extent he was feeling them.

“He looks like you,” he murmured then, more contemplatively. He reached out to trace the jawline of the man, just beneath a strand of honey hair, the same as hers. Olivia reached out and slapped his hand away, fearful of him smearing the paint, but ended up getting the paint on her hand on him anyway.

“Who is it?” he asked. “Your dad?”

Olivia nodded with a soft smile. “What I think he’d look like anyway. I’ve never known him.”

Niall looked taken aback at this, his bright blue eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and surprise. “What happened to him?” he asked immediately before turning a shade of pink himself. “I’m sorry, that was rude.”

“It’s okay,” Olivia responded with a shrug. “He was an American artist, travelling in Europe for inspiration. Me mum says he was really charming. They dated for a while and he disappeared back to the States. A few months later, I came around.”

“That’s so awful,” Niall responded softly. “For your mum and for you.”

“I can’t miss what I’ve never known,” she sighed, turning to offer Niall a smile and being caught off guard with the proximity of his face. “Mum has had plenty to worry about after that, anyway. But sometimes I wonder what he’d be like. I just felt like painting him today.”

Niall was quiet for a minute, studying the painting with a serious look. Olivia could see a little muscle tense in the corner of his mouth, elongating his jaw line. She couldn’t help but study him – he would be an amazing subject to paint someday, if he would let her. If she could get up the courage to ask.

“You really are brilliant,” he breathed, impressed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Olivia had never really painted anything like it before, the colors muddled together in a way that made the figure almost abstract. But there he was, her father – that same wild hair as her, soft smile, tan skin. American. The only one of her siblings to not have an Irish name. The only one of her siblings to not know their dad. Stuck like an island. But somehow, someway, Niall saw through all that. In it all, Niall saw the beauty – the same way she did.

Her phone vibrated next to her, a text from Daria popping up.

At Nandos on the Westside – come if you can! x

Olivia couldn’t help but smile at the ‘x’ – a mannerism Daria had picked up during her time in England. “They’re at Nandos, if you want to go meet them.” She knew that Niall would never pass up an opportunity to eat.

He paused for a minute, glancing between her and the painting. “I’d actually like to stay here and watch, if that’s alright with you.”

Olivia couldn’t contain the butterflies – they came through in her smile. “I would love to.”