One Direction One Shots
Niall Horan 9
“Flight 32A to Mullingar, Ireland, is now boarding.”
“Come on, it’s time to go,” my mother told me, standing up from her seat. I kept my lips sealed, quickly shaking my head. “Jay, come on, we need to go,” my mother repeated, grabbing our carry-on {which was my school backpack} and slinging it over her shoulder. I only shook my head again.
“Jay, I know you hate flying, but we’re going to Ireland. It won’t take that long, darling,” my mom continued, grabbing my hand in attempt to pull me up. I gripped the armrest of the chair tightly, remaining firmly in my seat.
“Jay, we don’t have time for this!” my mother was getting angry now. “We need to go! Now!” She grabbed my wrist tightly and pulled me out of the seat, dragging me to the loading dock and onto the airplane. I was fighting her the whole time, but it was no use.
“There’s no empty double seats,” my mother sighed. “I guess I’ll have to sit here.” She dropped the backpack down on the floor of the airplane in front of the seat next to us. “You’ll have to sit back there,” she nodded towards a seat near the middle of the plane, where a blonde head popped over the top of the seat. My mother sat down, and I slowly made my way down the aisle.
Great, just great. I’m absolutely terrified of airplanes and flying, and now I have to do both halfway across a plane without my mother. I would probably die during take-off.
I sat down in the seat, and the boy and I exchanged glances. He had blonde hair that was a little long, but cropped so it looked good. His hair was obviously bleached, because his roots and the sides of his hair were a dark brown. But the thing that struck me most was his gorgeous, stunning blue eyes. The boy gave me a small smile and a nod, before turning back towards the window.
I inhaled slowly, facing towards the front of the plane. Several minutes later, the seat-belt light came on, and a voice came from the intercom, telling us what to do in an emergency and that we were going to be taking off right after. With each word I was becoming more and more nervous and scared.
I heard the engine start up, and the plane jolted forward. I cried out softly, but immediately slapped my hands over my mouth. Once I did, I felt something warm hit my hands, and I knew I was crying out of fear.
“Hey, are you alright?” a thick, Irish accent sounded next to me, and I realized it was the boy. I kept my hands over my mouth as the plane picked up speed. I nodded, and as the plane grew faster, so did my tears.
“That’s obviously bullshit,” the boy replied flatly. His voice grew softer and gentler, and I was surprised I could hear him over the roar of the engine. “Are you afraid of flying?” he asked quietly. The front lurched upwards, and the rest of the plane followed suit. I cried out again and broke down.
Suddenly, the boy’s hand flashed up, taking mine off of my mouth. He laced his fingers with mine, squeezing my hand gently. “Look at me,” he told me sternly. My head turned, and I found my eyes locked with his gorgeous blue orbs once again.
“My name’s Niall,” the boy reached up, placing his hand on my cheek, his thumb gently brushing away my tears. The plane lurched again, and I wanted to curl up into a ball and scream. Niall squeezed my hand again. “Look at me, look at me,” he told me. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise. You’re absolutely, perfectly, completely safe. Do you understand?”
I nodded slightly, and Niall gave me his perfect smile once again. The plane moved forward and moved at a steady pace, so smooth I didn’t even feel it. I finally stopped crying and freaking out, but Niall kept his fingers laced with mine. “Now,” Niall flexed his shoulders. “What’s your name, love?”
“Come on, it’s time to go,” my mother told me, standing up from her seat. I kept my lips sealed, quickly shaking my head. “Jay, come on, we need to go,” my mother repeated, grabbing our carry-on {which was my school backpack} and slinging it over her shoulder. I only shook my head again.
“Jay, I know you hate flying, but we’re going to Ireland. It won’t take that long, darling,” my mom continued, grabbing my hand in attempt to pull me up. I gripped the armrest of the chair tightly, remaining firmly in my seat.
“Jay, we don’t have time for this!” my mother was getting angry now. “We need to go! Now!” She grabbed my wrist tightly and pulled me out of the seat, dragging me to the loading dock and onto the airplane. I was fighting her the whole time, but it was no use.
“There’s no empty double seats,” my mother sighed. “I guess I’ll have to sit here.” She dropped the backpack down on the floor of the airplane in front of the seat next to us. “You’ll have to sit back there,” she nodded towards a seat near the middle of the plane, where a blonde head popped over the top of the seat. My mother sat down, and I slowly made my way down the aisle.
Great, just great. I’m absolutely terrified of airplanes and flying, and now I have to do both halfway across a plane without my mother. I would probably die during take-off.
I sat down in the seat, and the boy and I exchanged glances. He had blonde hair that was a little long, but cropped so it looked good. His hair was obviously bleached, because his roots and the sides of his hair were a dark brown. But the thing that struck me most was his gorgeous, stunning blue eyes. The boy gave me a small smile and a nod, before turning back towards the window.
I inhaled slowly, facing towards the front of the plane. Several minutes later, the seat-belt light came on, and a voice came from the intercom, telling us what to do in an emergency and that we were going to be taking off right after. With each word I was becoming more and more nervous and scared.
I heard the engine start up, and the plane jolted forward. I cried out softly, but immediately slapped my hands over my mouth. Once I did, I felt something warm hit my hands, and I knew I was crying out of fear.
“Hey, are you alright?” a thick, Irish accent sounded next to me, and I realized it was the boy. I kept my hands over my mouth as the plane picked up speed. I nodded, and as the plane grew faster, so did my tears.
“That’s obviously bullshit,” the boy replied flatly. His voice grew softer and gentler, and I was surprised I could hear him over the roar of the engine. “Are you afraid of flying?” he asked quietly. The front lurched upwards, and the rest of the plane followed suit. I cried out again and broke down.
Suddenly, the boy’s hand flashed up, taking mine off of my mouth. He laced his fingers with mine, squeezing my hand gently. “Look at me,” he told me sternly. My head turned, and I found my eyes locked with his gorgeous blue orbs once again.
“My name’s Niall,” the boy reached up, placing his hand on my cheek, his thumb gently brushing away my tears. The plane lurched again, and I wanted to curl up into a ball and scream. Niall squeezed my hand again. “Look at me, look at me,” he told me. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I promise. You’re absolutely, perfectly, completely safe. Do you understand?”
I nodded slightly, and Niall gave me his perfect smile once again. The plane moved forward and moved at a steady pace, so smooth I didn’t even feel it. I finally stopped crying and freaking out, but Niall kept his fingers laced with mine. “Now,” Niall flexed his shoulders. “What’s your name, love?”