fourteen - touch

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Lil' note: please listen to the song on the side. This chapter is written to fit the lyrics, and it's just an absolutely brilliant song in general. I hope you enjoy! 

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Niall and I sat in my bedroom the Saturday after Thanksgiving, exchanging stories about how our respective holidays were spent. 

"I burnt my vegetable bake," I lamented sorrowfully. "The carrots were undercooked and the rest was a black crisp. So I was forced to survive on stuffing and pumpkin pie."

"Not a horrible diet," Niall pointed out unsympathetically.

"How was your Thanksgiving?" I inquired, laying back on my bed and folding my arms behind my head.

"It was nice. Greg and his wife came with their son."

"I didn't know you were an uncle."

He made a face. "It's kind of strange to think of myself as one, but yeah. Teddy loved the kittens," he added.

"Does he know that he's getting Cogsworth?"

"No, it's going to be a Christmas surprise for him. It's just as well, though, 'cause Cogsworth is his favorite."

I grinned at that. Niall continued, "Spirit's my favorite. She acts a lot like you, actually. Maybe you two are connected on a spiritual animal."

I rested my chin in my hands. "Like how?"

"Just something about her personality," he said vaguely. "Hey, kitten, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why don't you have any paintings hung up in your room?"

I hesitated. "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. You're a painter, but the only real sign of that in this room is that leather bag of paintbrushes you leave on your desk. Where are all the paintings? Where do you keep them?"

I frowned. "What if I just think my paintings are shit and not good enough to be hung up?"

Niall gave me a skeptical look.

I took a deep breath, mentally trying to prepare myself for what I was about to do. "Follow me," I said, standing and exiting my room. King followed us as I walked down the hallway in the opposite direction of my parents' bedroom and mine, down to the door at the very end. I twisted the doorknob and stood aside, motioning for Niall to enter. 

"Whoa," he said. I followed him in and gave him a sheepish nod.

The walls were covered in paintings on canvases of all sizes. Paintings of trees, buildings, faded sneakers, just about everything. They almost completely covered the walls, so that you could only see the pale green wallpaper in bits and snatches. A bed was nestled underneath the window, and an immense trunk sat at the foot of the bed, the domed top covered in a thin layer of dust.

"This is my treasury of paintings." This is the treasury of my heart. "This is Leah's old room."

"Holy shit," Niall said in an awestruck tone. He began to slowly make his way around the room, examining each and every painting. Straightening and turning to face me, he said, "You... you're incredibly talented, Miracle. Really."

I tried to smile through the heavy blanket of sadness I could feel draping itself over me. "Thank you so much."

For some reason, I suddenly wanted to tell Niall everything. I was tired of hiding and pretending that there was no real reason I was the way I was. After all, he hadn't run away before this. He'd stayed. If that didn't prove him a true friend, what would?

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