An Empty Everything

I had never met anyone who was as happy with life as I was—as carefree and unendingly cheerful. Life was something to be happy about, to me, and I never expected Kinsey to be the one person I met who could match my enthusiasm. She could sit in the sunshine, black Ray Bans on her smiling face, entertaining me by reciting every word to a vulgar rap song she somehow loved. She sang at the top of her lungs and pranced around like a baby deer in the springtime; she ate what had to be twice her body weight daily, and her nose crinkled when her smile was at its best. I fell for her fast and hard, but I loved every second of it.

“Niall,” She said, leaning back. It was one of the sunny days where she wore her sunglasses and grinned and wanted to sit outside until the last drop of sun was gone. I raised my eyebrows and looked at her. “Sing me a song, love.” Her lips wrapped into a smile.

I had to smile back at her and I reached out, needing the feel of her skin under my fingers. I brushed my fingers against the fragile skin on the inside of her wrist and tried to pry her hand into my grasp. She grinned and twitched away. “Later, Kinsey, I’ll do it later.” I murmured, still trying to get hold of her hand.

“Why not now?” She kept grinning like the troublemaking child she was. At Kinsey’s insistence, we went to a park. I did what I could to keep her life private and safe from the damage of a fame she didn’t want, but she always confused me with her disinterest. Maybe it wasn’t so much that she didn’t want it, more that she just didn’t care, but I had a need in me to protect her as best I could. And with the small horde of paparazzi gathering, I wasn’t going to bring any more unnecessary attention to us.

“You know why, you smart arse,” She laughed at my answer, throwing her head back and allowing me to finally hold her hand in mine. “I said later.” Cameras were snap-snap-snapping away and I grumbled in annoyance. My instinct was to pull her into me, but that would be adding fuel to the fire.

“Can later be now?” She chirped, tilting her head and playing with my fingers. It was difficult to deny her anything she wanted, honestly. I would’ve done anything if it meant she would be happy.

“Later can be later, Kinny,” I kissed her as quickly and innocently as I could manage, which took an inordinate amount of self-control because I wanted to kiss her all the time, and I stood up, lacing her fingers with mine tightly to lead her away.

It wasn’t normal for me to be so head over heels for a girl. Everyone knew Harry had the flirty reputation; he was the charmer of the group. I was the carefree one, the “cute one”, or, as Kinsey had deduced when I first met her, the nice one. Whatever it was, I was never the one chasing skirts. What I loved was music, our fans, my life, my family—and all of those things were very closely tied together. I saw how hard it was for two people to love one another under a spotlight through my best mates, and I had no time for it. I knew they were laughing at me now. Maybe not laughing at me, more with me, but there was still laughing and it was still about me. And Kinsey. It seemed like everything was about her anymore.

She was always around, and I loved it. I had someone to share my life with; I was half of a whole. When I was being lazy, eating on the couch and watching mindless programs on the telly, I had Kinsey curled against me and snatching crisps from my mouth before I could manage a bite. When I was excited and looking for something to do to occupy myself, I had Kinsey bouncing around with me and participating enthusiastically in whatever nonsense we could think up. And best of all, when I was absolutely knackered, wholeheartedly exhausted and ready to sleep in a grave if it were presented to me, I had Kinsey to make the most delicious Hot Toddy I’d ever tasted and run her fingers through my hair until I fell asleep.

I hadn’t told her I loved her yet then, though, because I knew that would scare a girl like her away. She would take time and effort; she wasn’t a hopeless romantic sighing over the neon One Direction fold out posters in those magazines aimed at young fangirls. Kinsey was bits and pieces of something that was strange when you looked at the parts, and then became beautiful when you put it all together. The way you look at someone changes when you love them, so maybe my vision was distorted, but Kinsey was indescribable to me and became a piece of my life that was as vital as anything. She was careless and flighty, spontaneous at best but impulsive and reckless at the same time. She had been through enough to know she didn’t need anyone but herself. I liked to think for a time that I changed that. But I knew that she also liked to prove people wrong.

Later that day Kinsey was curled up on my bed in her dress, with a little ghost of a smile dancing on her lips while she watched me keep myself busy. I had attempted to pick up my mess, because she liked to comment on it, and I rang my mum, and I made myself a sandwich. She watched from her comfortable spot on my bed, lovely as ever, and waited until I finally sat at the edge. She only moved to wrap an arm around me and pull me beside her. Her face filled my vision, glinting hazel eyes and perpetually slanting eyebrows, and she murmured, “It’s later. Sing to me now.”

I exhaled a breathy laugh and the little smile twisted her lips again. “Well, love, what song?” I couldn’t help but wrap a strand of her hair between my fingers. She answered quickly and easily, her smile wide and excited.

“There is a Light That Never Goes Out,” Her smile was so toothy and wide. I chuckled again.

“The Smiths,” I said knowingly. She had an affinity for the Smiths, and I was unsurprised that she picked that song. Kinsey blinked and somehow made the simple flutter of her eyelids seem satisfied. I got my guitar and sang her the song, not exactly as Morrissey sang it, but I was entitled to some creative license. I sang it softly, and Kinsey’s face glowed like I had never seen before. She closed her eyes and occasionally I could hear the high-pitched musical vibration of her voice humming along, her teasing lips forever stretching out in a smile that always looked like she was trying to hide it. She didn’t open her eyes when I stopped singing, although I knew she wasn’t asleep. She wrapped her fingers around mine and stroked the skin of my hand with her gentle fingertips, the faint smile always on her face.

I wanted to stop time, wanted to be able to lay in that bed forever with her hand wrapped in mine and not having to care about anything other than her. But she moved, letting go of my hand, and I was reminded of how fleeting every moment was with her. She swung her legs over to the opposite side of the bed, her back to me, pulling her shiny pile of hair over one shoulder. She cast one glance over her shoulder and I felt my heart flutter, and I spoke before I thought of the words coming out of my stupid mouth.

“Kinsey,” I blurted as her face turned away. She looked back at me again, eyebrows raised and eyes shimmering. Shit, I was so useless. My Adam’s apple bobbed as I nervously swallowed. “I…I fancy you a lot.” I finished lamely.

But she smiled at me and stood up, taking my guitar out of my lap so she could sit. She kissed me, sweeter than she ever really kissed me, and then looked at my face scientifically. There was a small frown of thought creasing her eyebrows as I curiously watched her eyes flick across my face. She licked her lips. Her arms were draped around my neck and she looked into my face, her expression serious as I had ever seen it, her voice a low, murmuring hum. “I…you’re very important to me, Niall. I just want you to know that.” She was nearly whispering, and the seemingly permanent smirk on her face was gone from her mouth. It was one of few times that I thought, maybe, I was making cracks in what I knew was the fake shell of her exterior. Maybe she wasn’t just a flighty little bird, fluttering her wings whenever someone tried to catch her.

I felt a fraction of a smile growing on my lips and I held her tighter, one arm wrapped around her waist. I brushed my fingers against her cheek and she looked almost sad. “You’re very important to me too, love.” I said quietly in reply, although I know she didn’t really want me to say anything. She bit her lip and nodded. And it was the first time I saw Kinsey for what she really was: a scared little girl, carrying around secret fragile things within herself.