Finding Allison (A Niall Horan Short Story)

Chapter Five

            “One coffee please,” I muttered to the barista, “black.” I handed him the money he wanted as I waited for him to fill up my cup.

            “Here you go,” he muttered, “careful its hot.” I nodded, giving him a weak smile as I let the person behind me place their order, making my way to a table in the back of the café. It had been exactly five months since I found the letter. I had put everything I had into finding her but nothing, nothing solid, or even sustainable. Whenever I tried to follow a lead it evaporated into dust, into nothing.

            My best mates had determined I had gone mad. The ones who had fallen in love were more understanding, but it was different since I didn’t even know the girl; I just knew she was perfect. I had let them read the letter, but they don’t understand my passion for it. They call it obsession, but for me it’s dedication.

            Dedication to the very letter I held in my hands, the envelope having gotten more worn though out it’s stay in my coat pocket, in my jean pockets, and in my hand, and sometimes in my hands.

            “That’s a nice thing got there,” I heard an old voice say, and I jerked my head up, realizing for the first time that I had company. An old man, maybe sixty, or something in that range, sat there, his eyes locked on my envelope.

            “This old thing?” I asked, looking down at the letter. He man nodded, and he extended his hand, as if asking if he could hold it. I instinctively jerked it back, away from his reach.

            “I see,” he muttered, his eyes solid, not startled, just knowing, like a wise old owl. “Personal?” he asked and I paused for a moment. It felt personal to me but I know it was nothing of the sort. I shook my head, and set it on the table.

            “It’s not personal, it’s just …” I started, searching for the right word. “it doesn’t matter, but you can see it if you want,” I said and he nodded, a small smile spreading on his lips.

            “It is a love letter?” he asked and I blushed, the old man chuckling. “I’m only kidding, I’m not going to read it, it’s just I saw a boy with this same envelope a while back,” he said, and I leaned forward, intrigued. “I remember because this little mark, this heart,” he started, and I almost wanted to correct him, that it was just a stain, but I didn’t, I stayed silent as he flipped it over in his hands, looking at it.

            “Would you happen to remember where the boy was?” I asked, and he looked up, his eyes unable to read. I told myself he probably wouldn’t, he was just an old man, and it was a miracle he remembered the letter in the first place.

            “I’m sorry,” he muttered in reply, and I felt my heart drop. It was true, every lead I could find stopped with a dead end. The old man, as clueless to the situation as he was, looked up ad paused, his eyes taking in my disheveled appearance.

            “But you know the reason why I remember this letter so well?” he asked, and I shook my head no. “This small little A in the corner, and the M in the other one,” he said, laughing a bit before he continued, “they say I’m a run down old man, but one things for sure, I’m a run down good man with good eyesight.” He looked down at the paper, his thumb tracing the letters.

            “Why did you remember those letters?” I asked, I was no longer fishing for information. I wasn’t about to get my hopes up again. I was just curious, because I would’ve replied Allison-

            “-Murphy,” he replied and I widened my eyes, “she’s a young lady I once knew, around your age.” I gulped and leaned forward, so much for keeping my hopes down; they were soaring. The different pieces of the puzzle were showing up, they just hadn’t been put together yet. I just needed the final few dots before I could connect them all and get the final picture.

            “When you say you once know,” I started to ask, treading cautiously, so my dreams wouldn’t be shattered so quickly, “does that mean you no longer go to see her?” He shook his head, a small smile making its way onto his lips. Not a normal smile though, a sad one, one that give someone after they’ve just found out some terrible news.

            “I just saw her a few days ago,” he replied and I felt as if everything had been leading up to this moment, this moment in a coffee shop I wasn’t even planning on going to in the first place.

            “If you wouldn’t mind could you tell me where you saw her?” I asked, “I know it may seem like an odd question to ask, but I-” He smile grew in size, but it stayed the same in tone as h cut me off.

            “142 Fleet Street,” he said, “Number 22.” I nodded and smiled, repeating the words over and over in my mind.

            “142 Fleet Street, apartment 22,” I muttered under my breath. “Thank you,” I practically shouted to the man, “I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” His smile this time was happy, no sadness or grief in the mix.

            “Your welcome lad, but don’t you want your letter?” he said, waving it slightly in the air. I laughed, but it was quickened and breathy because of my excitement.

            “Right,” I muttered, grabbing the letter out his outstretched hand and giving him one last smile. “You just saved my life mate,” I shouted with a laugh, my coffee sloshing around in its container. He nodded as I left the store, just a small nod, watching as I left as if he had been watching me forever.

Authors Note ~ Lol, so I know I just updated this a few days ago, and I know I said there wouldbe three more chpaters but I lied, there will only be one more after this one, so pretty much I should've said two more in the last chapter. My intentions were to! Pinkie promise they were, but I just ... I didn't feel like I could add anything in at the moment. I may put an extra chapter in once I'm done with this short story, but for now, there's one more chapter after this and an epilogue.

Oh and I know Fleet Street was that place where Sweeney Todd like killed people ... or it's something like that ... it's real I think ... I've heard of it somewhere ... but I just needed a street name and felt like using that. And the song to the side is one of my latest song obsession with Ed Sheeran, and I thought it kinda worked with this chapter. 

Oh and some people have inboxed me, already asking me if I can make a sequel for this, or a spin-off, but I'm sorry guys, just won't work with this plot line. I still love the feedback I get! And it's pretty highly ranked but I'd love to get it in the double digits rather than triple so make sure to comment and make sure you've voted on every chapter!

<3

Luce