except his everything is big and then his hands are so small

w/c:4,300

Niall’s breathing harshly through his nose when he reaches the spot—an exact parallel of that Tuesday one year ago.

Red cheeks that reach the tip of his hairline, sweaty palms from his jittery hands, a pressure caught between his throat and chest that’s making it painfully hard for the air to remain in his tired lungs—it’s all strangely familiar.

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