You were still young, and you still believed in all the things that little girls should – fairy dust, cooties, the Easter Bunny, and Santa Claus.
You would leave out cookies and milk for Father Christmas on the eve before morn, and when you woke up, you’d find the food and drink gone, and presents under the tree. It was magic, to you, and you had never questioned it – you were content with your stocking full of toys, and the presents covered with colourful gift wrap.
But, one day, when you were at an age where your parents thought it was no longer acceptable to be childish and believe in such things, they sat you down and had an hour-long talk with you. This speech, regarding the existence – or, nonexistence – of Father Christmas had left you in tears; heavily disappointed and distraught, throwing a fit behind the closed door to your room.
You were in there for quite a while too, crying like the child you were, leaving your parents and brother worried.
The knock on the door had come as a surprise, as you had been crying for a while now, and really hadn’t expected anyone to come upstairs to check on you – after all, it had already been thirty-something minutes; wouldn’t they have already checked on you, if they were going to?
“Y/N, can I come in?” he spoke through the thick wood of the door, and white-washed walls; Niall, your brother.
He did not wait for a response, and instead simply entered, before sitting down beside you on the floor, surrounded by stuffed toys and the tears on the floorboards.
He did not say a thing to you either, simply opened his arms, before you flew into them and he embraced your smaller, sobbing figure.
“He’s not real!” You cried into his shoulder, quite upset. You really had believed in the magic of Christmas; in Santa Claus. And now, you had begun to question everything. What about the Easter Bunny, was that real? And fairies? Did boys really have cooties?
You didn’t know.
You didn’t know anything, anymore.
“Hush, love, I know.” Niall consoled, rubbing your back soothingly as he murmured quietly, “I know.”