#Unexpectedly

I slowly opened my eyes, squinting at the light. It wasn't that bright but things were different if you just walked out from a very dark room. I was the last to come out. The boys went first as James wanted to clean his hands as soon as possible because, he said, they were sticky and uncomfortable.

I stood all alone in the low-lighted lounge, holding my coat, which was given back to me just a few seconds ago. The annoying bald host came out of nowhere and scared my heart out with his sudden approach.

"Miss Watson," He called me, still very polite and noble. "Your friends have paid the bill and gone out."

"What?" I gasped. Did he just tell me I was abandoned by three people? One of them was my friend!

"Well, the couple in your party has left with each other first. I believe there is still a gentleman waiting for you outside." The end of his lips curled up slightly, his eyes gestured toward the door.

My heart skipped a beat when I heard there was still one man, one guy waiting for me outside. Nervousness crept on me. I walked toward the door bit by bit, taking small steps. The hard granite floor was incredibly cold against my bare feet. The chilly air that crept through the small, thin gaps of the door sent me shiver. I moved to a side, dropped down my heels and wore the coat on. Then my left hand picked up the high heels, hooking them with the index and the middle fingers. Through the glasses door, I could vaguely see a tall and slim figure standing outside hugging himself. I carefully pulled the door, not making a slightest noise. I almost jumped up when my feet collided with the paving stones of the pavement outdoor. Bitterly cold. A shiver ran down my spine. I shook myself a bit. The boy was having his back turned to the restaurant, to me. The street was empty, just a few pedestrians walking on the other side of the road. I knew that the boy in front of me here was James. No bets or buts. It was obvious. The warm sun-like light from the restaurant was streaming on his blonde hair. He wore a long black wool coat that fit him and his figure perfectly. My heartbeat was accelerating rapidly. I gathered all my courage to call out for him. The first boy who I ever enjoyed spending my time with.
And he turned around. . .

I had practically stopped breathing the moment I fully got a total view of his countenance. Everything seemed to be perfectly cleared now. The reasons why his voice was so familiar, his laugh attracted me. How could I not notice?

"James?" I still couldn't believe in my eyes. Words, they were messed up and tangled inside my head. "Y-you are Niall?"

His blue eyes were looking straight into mine dark ones guiltily. He was speechless. Then he cleared his voice, words started to falling out of his lips, words that I wanted to hear. "Yes, I am. Sorry for lying to you."

This time, it was my turn to be speechless. My mind suddenly became dull and futile. It took me long enough to finally realize. Standing in front of me was a very famous boy. Standing in front of me was my idol. Standing in front was ... him, Niall James Horan.

I had always thought, if there was a day, I were to meet one of my idols, I would probably scream my heart out, on the verge of tears streaming down my cheeks. Because it happened with every normal fan, it was a common sense for fans to be like that. But I was wrong about my case. There was no scream, no tear, just silence. A comfortable silence yet shocking. I couldn't utter a sound, my eyes were wide opened, unable to look away from the person in front of me. If I had to describe this moment by anyhow, I would begin with the word 'dream'. In this dream, the time and space around me didn't hold much importance, I couldn't care less what was evolving in the background. My mind was occupied, focusing on something more momentous. My sensation was lost and uncertain - I forgot in what weather I was standing. My eyes were penetrating at the only noteworthy existence but so fragile that if I just turned away for only one second, it would evaporate. The next thing I became acknowledged to was I wanted to touch him, to make sure that this was real not a dream, that he wouldn't suddenly turn into the vapor of my wild dream.

The silence was broken as we were both woken up by the sound of the door opened. A young couple walked out paying no heed to us and our eyes followed them until they disappeared in the lane.

"Well, it's OK," Still staring at a blank infinite space, I said to him. "I was a little surprised but I'm used to that."

"Then are we cool?" He asked and I looked up at Niall. His eyebrow quirked up, crackled me.

"When aren't we cool?" My voice sounded so happy that even I was amazed.

"Hah, I was so worried if you would be mad at me," Niall fell his face in his palms, shaking head.

"Why?"

"Because I lied to you," He lifted his head up, peering at me. His eyes were still saying 'Sorry'.

"It's a blind date after all. A bit of lying wouldn't kill. However, why did you lie?"

"Because Deo, you know, Stephen," I oh-ed. "He told me you were a huge fan of my band and it would be unfair if you know that and ditch my mate. He was supposed to be your date... at first."

" Well, he is totally into Celine," I arched my eyebrows, shrugging. "And are you flattering yourself, Mr. Horan? Telling me I would ditch any boys to go for you?"

"What? No!" He rolled his eyes, panicked. "Just being careful. I mean, If the press knew I was going on a blind date, shit happens."

"Acceptable," I gave up doubting him after a few coherent thoughts, tilted my head aside. I had a rather modest height. So my face had to turn upward all the time to look at Niall. It was very tiresome for my neck.

"You didn't fully buy that, did you?" He looked at me, beady eyes.

"Well, 50 - 50," I chewed the inside of my lower lip. "Where are the others?"

"They played truant on us, going to a party," Niall slid his hands into the clay's side pockets, turning around, glanced through the road quickly.

"Great," Sensation just came back to me. My feet were freezingly numb.

"Why aren't you wearing your shoes?" His glance had landed on my bare trembling feet.

"High heels," I held up my 3-inch high stilettos. "I'm not used to wearing them and they hurt my feet so, so much."

"But it would be very cold. And walking barefooted would affect your health badly," He frowned at me.

I turned my foot, showing him the pink scratches on my heel. His eyebrows were drawn a bit closer to his eyes. Saying nothing in return, Niall reached his hand into an inside pocket of his coat, rummaging for something. After a minute or two, he showed me two small transparent plasters. I could see a faint smile on his thin lips.

"Let me help you," He offered, about to kneel down.

"It's OK, it's OK. Thank you for the plasters. You've done so much, let me do it myself," I said quickly, reached out for the little plasters but Niall swiftly retreated a few step, preventing me from taking them.

"You are wearing a dress. Did you forget?" Hiding the plasters behind his back, he sent me a questioning, at the same time, implying look which made me had no other choice but to nod.
Niall knelt down on the flagstone pavement, carefully putting the plasters on the scratches. The way he gently pressed his thumb on the plaster which directly covered my ichy scratch sent a strange feeling to my rapidly beating heart.

A boy is kneeling down in front of me. A boy is helping me treat my wounds. A boy is putting my high heels on for me. I feel like I'm some Cinderella walk out of the movie. Oh my God, has the sun started rising in the West?

Niall slowly stood up, dusting off his knees. His blue eyes still scanned through my feet as if he was making sure he had done everything right and perfect.

"Thank you," I beamed at him and he smiled back at me.

"No problem," He shrugged. My eyes scanned through the neighborhood again, just people scattering on the street.

"What to do now?" I asked no one in particular, hoping for a sudden light bulb.

"I don't know. Deo took the car," Niall said.

"And I don't have Celine's car keys."

We both sighed simultaneously then cracked up because of that. Niall's eyes lit up, he turned to me.

"Hey, you want to go round Two?" He asked eagerly.

"Round Two?" I arched my eyebrows. Niall chuckled, nodding at me. "Where?"

"It's not far away from here, we can walk to it."

I took a step forward. "What about the pre-Ah!"

"Woah!"

Great, I tripped again. This would be the first and the last time I'd ever worn a pair of high heels. I couldn't even walk on a flat plane, talked about the flagstone pavement! But since when did the road was this soft and warm? It smelled so good, too.

"Mia, are you OK?"

Road talked? It even knew my name. Oh, wait. I slowly opened my eyes. I saw a button down collar, a red-wine button down collar more particular. Second oh...

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," My hands shakily pushed up against the firm chest of the boy in front of me. I was trying to stand straight up and regain my balance but before I had a chance to do any of them, my whole body fell behind again.

Shit, it's going to be painful.

I shut my eyes, letting everything go. Well, I got to meet and half-hugged by him, as in Niall Horan, maybe this was the price to pay. Somewhat expensive.

I was waiting for my body to emerge with the ground, my head to hit the flagstone but instead, I hanged still in the air or maybe I was in a comma and lost all of my sensation. Wait, that would be too cruel. Plus, I still felt something, probably an arm, snaked around my waist while a hand, definitely a hand, was gripping my wrist tightly. I had two guesses:

1, I was actually dreaming in a comma.

2, Niall had saves my sorry bump for the second time.

Maybe number two, I chose to be positive. And I was right.

"So is this why you don't want to wear high heels?" He quirked his eyebrow, stifling a laugh.
My cheek were heating up, I gently punched his shoulder with my free hand.

"So? I don't usually wear high heels or things like that," I looked up at him.

Niall said nothing back and just staring into my eyes. If we were in a romantic movie, this was the perfect moment to kiss. However, we weren't in any movies. He was Niall Horan, the Irish heartthrob. And I, I was just Amelia Watson.

He veered his eyes away first. My heart fell for a second. Niall carefully assisted me standing up then cleared his throat with an awkward cough. I still had to clench on his lower arm to locate myself, not falling down. Niall had no objection. Actually, he seemed to be rather willing to help. That relieved my uneasiness. I wasn't a hindrance.

"It's OK, I will help you walk," He didn't look into my eyes when he said. I could see a little shade of pink creeping on his cheeks.

I could barely hold back my giggles. Niall still turned his head the other way, avoiding my glance. We started walking. It was uneasy and trippy at first but Niall got my back. So we moved on and got used to the situation. After a long moment of awkwardness built by Niall, he finally stopped averting his eyes away and talked to me. He said to me, half-smiling, that he would teach me how to walk properly in high heels. I shook my head and told him it was impossible, even if he succeeded now, he would fail later because I rarely put on those kinds of fancy shoes. But he still taught me anyway. I felt like a little child who was learning her first step.

"Hey," I whispered. The road we were walking was very quiet. There was no one beside us.

"Why are we taking this road? It's creepy."

"Don't whisper. It'd just make things more creepy," His voice was breathy. "I took this road because there might be some paps sneaking out there to ruin the whole night."
I gave him an understanding look. My hand was gripping his tightly. Well, Niall was trying to prevent my bottom from bouncing on the ground again anyway. Gosh, I felt like an old lady without her stick.

The quietness suddenly surrounded us, giving off a strange vibe. We had been talking on and on as soon as Niall brought up the whole high-heels lesson, carrying on the conversation we had left undone while we were at Dans Le Noir. Our main topic was music. We told each other what our kind of music was, who we enjoyed listening to the most, which band we favored, and more. (Of course I had admitted to him One Direction was one of my favorite boy bands. Niall just laughed with redden cheeks and said 'Thank you' to me in seven different languages. I told him to stop showing off. Then we both cracked up.) Niall and I merely had anything not in common: music, food, even birthday! There were more but I could list them all out without taking up a day or two. As goods and bads always walked together, we had disagreement on other things as well, like derby, books, the little minor things.

We took a turn and got to a small lane that led to the street. The quietness which had been ruling the atmosphere faded and replaced by noise of people, by the sound of music. It was something traditional, something Irish. I glanced at Niall who was grinning cheekily then announced.

"We have arrived!"

Notes