Screaming Color
nine
cole’s birthday falls on a sunday just before christmas break. april organizes a brunch to celebrate. she invites all of cole’s friends - herself, niall, and zayn - to her personal favorite brunch restaurant, because cole doesn’t have one, and she pays for it all with her mother’s credit card.
cole orders blueberry pancakes and drenches them in maple syrup. niall sits beside her and bumps his knee against hers every so often, just to remind her that he’s there.
she and niall don’t talk a lot - they haven’t talked about the night where she hid from a spider in his bed, or about why she was mad at him a few weeks ago after he didn’t save her a seat in class - but they speak like this, through light touches and brief smiles that make cole feel somehow as if she’s known niall forever.
when they get back to campus after brunch, zayn and april go off in one direction, and niall and cole the other. the wind catches a piece of cole’s hair and blows it into niall’s face. he swats it away, laughing.
“control yourself, cole,” he says, swinging his arm around her shoulder.
she leans into him a little bit, just a little, as they walk. she and niall don’t talk much, but when they’re this close, when she can smell his cologne and feel his heart beating, she knows that there’s something between them, something that she can’t put into words. it’s when there’s space between them that she becomes unsure.
on the way upstairs, cole gets ahead of him, eager to outrun the butterflies in her stomach. but niall catches up and stops her outside his door with a hand on her elbow.
“come inside for a minute,” he says. “i have something for you.”
cole nods and follows him in, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. she’s only been in niall’s room a few times over the past month, and only to study for their poetry exam. cole has developed a fear, sprung up in her lungs like a sudden cough, not of niall, but of the moment where they cross the threshold between just friends and more than. once they cross it, it will be nearly impossible to go back. cole isn’t sure if she is ready. or if she’ll ever be.
“close your eyes.”
cole nods and sits on the edge of niall’s lofted bed, her feet dangling above the floor.
“no peeking,” niall says. but cole peeks, because, although she would deny it, she loves watching niall when he can’t see her. she loves tracing her eyes over the muscles in his back as he stretches to get something off the top shelf, loves the way he ruffles at his hair when he’s nervous.
“alright, open,” he says. in his hands are two items, not wrapped: a pair of socks and a book.
“niall, you didn’t have to get me anything,” cole says. niall vaults himself up beside her and bumps her shoulder with his.
“shush,” he says. “you’re my - you’re - well - here.” he puts the socks on her lap. cole picks them up to look at them: they are blue and adorned with a caricature of george washington on the sides.
“you said he’s your favorite president,” niall says. he won’t look at her; his eyes are glued to the floor. “and your feet are always cold.”
cole blushes at the memory of how niall knows about her cold toes. “thanks, ni. i love them.”
niall looks up at her, grinning. then he passes her the book. “and i got you this, too. since we’re not going to have a class together next term - so you’ll remember me.”
cole scoffs. “how could i ever forget you?” she looks down at the book. it’s old, worn, well-loved. the complete works of w.h. auden. cole flips open the cover and sees an inscription on the endpaper.
to my nan:
so glad to have known you, hope to keep knowing you for countless more days, months, years.
all my love,
your jay
cole runs her finger along the faded scrawl. “that’s beautiful, niall.”
“yeah,” he says. “yeah, i thought so too.”
cole closes the book and holds it in her lap, feeling all the weight of the previous owners’ fingers turning its pages. cole does not love auden for auden, but she loves auden for niall, and she hopes that’s enough
“thank you,” she says quietly. the wind howls against the window, rattling it in its frame, but cole barely notices. she leans her head on niall’s shoulder and his arm comes up around her, and she thinks the briefest thought: what if i never move?
cole orders blueberry pancakes and drenches them in maple syrup. niall sits beside her and bumps his knee against hers every so often, just to remind her that he’s there.
she and niall don’t talk a lot - they haven’t talked about the night where she hid from a spider in his bed, or about why she was mad at him a few weeks ago after he didn’t save her a seat in class - but they speak like this, through light touches and brief smiles that make cole feel somehow as if she’s known niall forever.
when they get back to campus after brunch, zayn and april go off in one direction, and niall and cole the other. the wind catches a piece of cole’s hair and blows it into niall’s face. he swats it away, laughing.
“control yourself, cole,” he says, swinging his arm around her shoulder.
she leans into him a little bit, just a little, as they walk. she and niall don’t talk much, but when they’re this close, when she can smell his cologne and feel his heart beating, she knows that there’s something between them, something that she can’t put into words. it’s when there’s space between them that she becomes unsure.
on the way upstairs, cole gets ahead of him, eager to outrun the butterflies in her stomach. but niall catches up and stops her outside his door with a hand on her elbow.
“come inside for a minute,” he says. “i have something for you.”
cole nods and follows him in, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. she’s only been in niall’s room a few times over the past month, and only to study for their poetry exam. cole has developed a fear, sprung up in her lungs like a sudden cough, not of niall, but of the moment where they cross the threshold between just friends and more than. once they cross it, it will be nearly impossible to go back. cole isn’t sure if she is ready. or if she’ll ever be.
“close your eyes.”
cole nods and sits on the edge of niall’s lofted bed, her feet dangling above the floor.
“no peeking,” niall says. but cole peeks, because, although she would deny it, she loves watching niall when he can’t see her. she loves tracing her eyes over the muscles in his back as he stretches to get something off the top shelf, loves the way he ruffles at his hair when he’s nervous.
“alright, open,” he says. in his hands are two items, not wrapped: a pair of socks and a book.
“niall, you didn’t have to get me anything,” cole says. niall vaults himself up beside her and bumps her shoulder with his.
“shush,” he says. “you’re my - you’re - well - here.” he puts the socks on her lap. cole picks them up to look at them: they are blue and adorned with a caricature of george washington on the sides.
“you said he’s your favorite president,” niall says. he won’t look at her; his eyes are glued to the floor. “and your feet are always cold.”
cole blushes at the memory of how niall knows about her cold toes. “thanks, ni. i love them.”
niall looks up at her, grinning. then he passes her the book. “and i got you this, too. since we’re not going to have a class together next term - so you’ll remember me.”
cole scoffs. “how could i ever forget you?” she looks down at the book. it’s old, worn, well-loved. the complete works of w.h. auden. cole flips open the cover and sees an inscription on the endpaper.
to my nan:
so glad to have known you, hope to keep knowing you for countless more days, months, years.
all my love,
your jay
cole runs her finger along the faded scrawl. “that’s beautiful, niall.”
“yeah,” he says. “yeah, i thought so too.”
cole closes the book and holds it in her lap, feeling all the weight of the previous owners’ fingers turning its pages. cole does not love auden for auden, but she loves auden for niall, and she hopes that’s enough
“thank you,” she says quietly. the wind howls against the window, rattling it in its frame, but cole barely notices. she leans her head on niall’s shoulder and his arm comes up around her, and she thinks the briefest thought: what if i never move?