feel the tide turning

      The flesh of his cheeks had only turned a brighter shade of red; his delicate freckles had vanished as the flush overtook the surface-- the feel of one's lips against him had always made Niall turn a bit more bashful; had made his cheeks a little more red, and had made him a little more shy.

    Why would he deny it? Niall always found fascination in a flaw; how one who appeared so perfect... wasn't-- how that girl with a flawless grin would snort when she laughed-- Niall loved that; he loved it with an undying passion; he had adored the other's stutter; because, a boy with such vibrant green eyes, and perfect crescent-shaped craters in his cheeks was stuttering-- flaws are beautiful to Niall Horan.

      His flush had deepened-- Niall had always been that way; that blush had been something accustomed to the freckled-flesh of his cheeks - that lip stretching grin seemed to have never once left since in the presence of Ollie-- and he would be lying if he said he didn't think the other was adorable; Niall had found the pure innocence, and utter happiness in the other's tone to be the absolute cutest.

    The color of his cheeks had deepened; his blonde head of hair had lowered at the other's words-- because, Niall was never any good at accepting compliments - he had always been a bit... insecure, or, unsure of himself-- he had always watched others with such trained eyes, but, hadn't expected them to gaze back at the same rate; Niall didn't think of himself as even remotely handsome.

    The accustomed flush on his cheeks had grown darker-- the gentle flecks of brown that surfaced on the flesh had grown faint as the red hue overtook it; his smile had grown from more interested to more bashful; his eyes had lowered the lightest bit, and his fingers had curled around his wrist.

“Mariana.” The blonde smiled. “Mari for short. Your’s?”

    He liked her name, it was... different. 

“That’s great to hear. Would you like to tell me your name?” she tilted her head to one side and bit down on her bottom lip.

    His fingers had curled around his wrist while he watched the other-- and the friendly smile had yet to leave his mouth.

Taiga blinked, as she smiled softly with a nod.

    The accustomed flush that had stained the freckled-flesh of his cheeks had returned as he smiled toward the other.

    The boy had merely reminded him of a child who had just gotten in trouble; a strong, but gentle green gaze - pouty pink lips - and a stutter; A kid who had gotten into mischief for wandering a little too far from his mother-- and the Irishman had only grinned; because, not only was it downright adorable - but, it had drawn him in further.

“Fucking hell, Niall!” Sutton groaned and threw her hands up in the hair. “Who took ‘em if you didn’t, huh? Was it Harry? ‘Cos last time he stole one of my bras and threatened to sell ‘em on Ebay.” She inquired, folding her arms, and a scowl forming on her features. 

    The laugh had only continued to grow-- the angrier the got, the harder Niall cackled; because, he could only imagine the fiery brunette threatening to sell his band mate-- she never would; Sutton was simply too innocent to perform such a task.

    His eyes had been delicate to watch the other; his movements were now unsure more-so than subtle-- he had been deliberately intrigued by the other's inability to look one in the eyes; though, Niall not dare comment on it - he found the flaw quite... sweet-- cute, even. 

Sutton gave the blonde haired boy a nasty glare and shook her head slightly. She didn’t mean to be so harsh, she was only frustrated. “No, ‘m not alrigh’, you bloody git. Someone stole my drumsticks! I can’t find ‘em anywhere and we have rehearsal in twenty minutes.” She spoke through gritted teeth. Sutton rarely got angry, and when she did, she was like a Chihuahua: all bark and no bite.

    A loud laugh had racked through the Irishman's body; his fingers had curled into his side as his head was thrown back-- Niall had always laughed; laughed when the little brunette got so upset over something so little-- and it was obvious one of the boys had taken her drumsticks. 

    The shy demeanor of the other had only drawn Niall in so much further; all movements were subtle as a delicate smile attached to his lips.