Chapter 8

Do you believe in fate?

Do you believe that there's a binding force that pulls two people who are meant to be together?

Fate ignites dwindling fire and gives hope to those who have fallen out.

Fate grips your trembling hands and leads you to your destiny.

And you do nothing but surrender yourself to fate and let it lead the way.

Claire's POV

I stare at the boy who seems to have clouded my every thought these past few hours. The boy who helped lift me up when I was literally falling and didn't even wait for a 'thank you'.

He looks so broken and fragile and I suddenly wish I could pick him up and restore his pieces carefully. I wish I could stretch out my hand and wipe that stray tear dangling in his eyes; as if pleading to be let loose.

His hair is flattened down by the beanie he pulled from it few minutes ago and his breath is ragged. Slow and painful like one who is on the brink of life and death. His eyes, those eyes that I found beautiful and bold are shrunken, and their sea green color I found myself imagining all day long now have an unpleasant look to them, almost... nauseating.

We stare at each other for a while, only the occasional blinking of our eyes and the shuffling from rats around us that reassures me that we aren't frozen in time.His eyes never leaving mine.

There's so much pain behind them and the tear that has been threatening to escape since, finally falls to his cheeks and he immediately brings his hands to wipe them off. Not before I see them.

I turn around to finally leave this awkward position but he grips my hands almost immediately.

"Please,stay." He whispers to me. If we weren't so close to each other, I probably wouldn't have heard it.

I turn around and face him, momentarily shocked but he doesn't let go of my hand as he places me to sit beside him on the floor. I find myself adjusting to a comfortable position to listen to our barely audible breaths. Even if he has nothing to say to me, I'll gladly accept the fact that this curly haired boy once asked me to stay with him.

Niall's POV

She's standing in front of me. Clothes too big for her frame with a pearl anklet resting on her feet where she rolled up her trousers. Her loud voice booming through the room and increasing my headache. My eyes are still blurred with tears so I take off my beanie to wipe them off, hoping the girl disappears from my sight.

She's still here.

Her presence calms me, soothes all my pain and she doesn't even have to do anything. I hate feeling this way. So much sadness bundled up inside me and I can't find a way to let them out. I thought crying will help me out but it only brought back the sadness buried inside me and I'll settle for anything or anyone who'll help me.

I try to picture where I've seen her face before but my eyes can't seem to stop roaming her body so I can properly think.Just then, she brings up her hands to wipe off sweat on her forehead and our eyes finally meet.

She's the girl from the hospital.

"You!" We exclaim simultaneously.

She keeps on staring at me. Not uttering a single word, her eyes glued to mine; expectant, like a person who's waiting for the last digits from the winning lottery to be called. I can't take my eyes off her either. I want to, but I can't. I want to tell her to go and leave me the hell alone. I want to tell her to mind her business and stop intruding. But I can't. I can't bring myself to say the words.

Her face looks so beautiful and the poor lighting from the room casts a glow on her brown skin and it highlights her features. Her eyes,not too big, but perfectly white and brown. Her cheek bones are the most distinctive features about her as they are clearly defined and her curly brown hair rests on her head in a poor attempt of a bun.

How can I possibly send her away?

All the pain that I have inside of me is threatening to explode and I'm doing my best to try to keep them in. I'm not doing such a great job as a tear escapes from my eyes.

I immediately catch it but she already sees it. She turns her head around trying to look anywhere but at me.

She must think you're a pathetic looser.

Not now, please. I beg my inner-self.

Just as I am battling with my thoughts, she turns around to leave. I'm meant to be happy considering the fact that I was thinking of a way for her to leave, but I'm not. I want her to stay.

I don't realize that I've grabbed her hand until I feel the warmth from her hands. She stares at me with wide eyes and I find myself telling her

"Please, stay."

She doesn't object as she let's me lead her to the ground beside me and place her on the floor. She adjusts herself on the floor and leans back on the shelf, not saying a single thing.

** ** **

I don't know how many minutes have gone by but we are still locked in this position. John Mayer's Edge of Desire has played over 10 times and I can't find it in myself to turn the music off. His voice is the only thing that fills the room and occasionally a tear or two will drop from my eyes. I don't want to look at her. I don't want to scare her off.

"Love is really nothing

But a dream that keeps waking me

For all of my trying

We still end up dying

How can it be?"

The music mixes up with my thoughts and as much as I don't want to think about the girl sitting next to me, I find all my thoughts directed towards her.

I finally look at her and she has her eyes closed.They are tightly shut as she silently sings along to the song. Her mouth moving in sync with John's melodious voice.

Can this moment never end?

We are locked in that peaceful silence for a while. Our presence giving life to the room and her light alone illuminating the damn place.

"Why are you here?" She asks all of a sudden.

"I mean you were at the hospital, now you're here. Are you sick?" She carries on, not letting me give an answer the first time.

"No, I'm not sick." My voice is hoarse and much more groggier than it normally is.

Ignoring her first question, I go ahead to ask her "Are you sick? You looked pretty unwell at the hospital."

"I'm pretty sure you know the answer to that question." She lets out a laugh, but it's humorless.

I find myself smiling back at her. Trying to make her feel at ease.

Claire's POV

He smiles at me and it's much warmer than my sorry excuse for laughter. I really wanted to laugh but I ended up sounded like a wounded hyena.

"Why were you crying?"

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"Why?"

"You ask too many damn questions." He says while stifling a laughter.

"You should answer all my damn questions. I mean who better to talk to about your problems than a stranger." I say while nudging his elbows.

"Says the person who doesn't answer the only question I ask her."

"Touché." I say now fully laughing.

"I found out yesterday that I'm apparently living with brain cancer." I say out of the blue. The realization hitting me as the words tumble out of my mouth.

He looks shocked and a hint of pity immediately flashes through his eyes before he hides it.

"That explains a lot." He finally says.

"Now answer my question." I say while adjusting on the floor. This floor is really cold.

"I just have a lot of stuff going on with me. My mum was recently diagnosed with Parkinson's. She's doing her best to hide her fears, but I can see how scared she is of dying. I don't want to loose her." His tears have now returned to his eyes and he doesn't hold them back as they fall freely from his eyes.

I scoot closer to him and place my hand on his. I don't want to be too touchy because that will be too weird. I give his hands a gentle squeeze in a form of... reassurance? I'm not really good with dealing with emotions.

After several minutes go by, his phone begins to buzz. He removes his hands from under mine to retrieve the phone from his pocket.

"It's my mom, she's done."

He pulls his beanie over his head and wipes his face with the back of his palm.

"I just missed my first support group meeting unintentionally." I say while laughing. A real laugh this time.

He laughs too while he gets up and begins to wipe his butt. His birthmark is more prominent now.

"I'm Niall." He says while he stretches his hand out for me to grip; an attempt to help me up. I gladly take the hand and he pulls me up.

"Claire." I reply retrieving my hand from him and wiping my butt. I need to get a butt massage soon. Poor thing has suffered a lot recently.

He begins to walk away and I suddenly wish he would stay longer. We could talk more and maybe I might get to know the story of dark curly haired boy who cried in the storage room.

I laugh at my thoughts. This brain cancer of a thing is really messing up my brain.

"And Claire-?"He says, stopping halfway in his movements.-"smile more often, you have great cheekbones." He adjusts the beanie on his head before finally walking off. Leaving me in the dimly lit storage room with my thoughts littered everywhere waiting to be picked up.