Open Your Eyes
Chapter 11
Scarlett’s POV
“Hey.” I sleepily opened my eyes to find a pair of bright green ones right in front of my face. “Your nose twitches when you sleep.”
I groaned and rolled over and felt Niall next to me. He grinned at me, his eyes half-open, and I sat up, trying to assess the situation. Harry had perched himself awkwardly on the side of the bed, fully clothed, in front of me. I saw Louis at the foot of the bed, and I turned back around to glance at the sleepy, shirtless Niall that had been next to me. Harry jumped up from where he’d been lying. “What are you two doing here?” I asked Harry and Louis. Last night I’d slept with Niall—as in, I slept in the same bed as him with him next to me—and I had felt a blush rise to my cheeks as I saw the two of them smirking at us.
Louis lowered his phone, and I realized that he’d been taking pictures of Niall and I together. I rubbed my eyes and turned my head when Louis started talking. “We were supposed to leave for the studio fifteen minutes ago, and all of us were ready except this one right here.” He reached behind me and shoved Niall’s shoulder lightly. “So we came in to check on him, and you lot were making children.”
Niall groaned and I noticed his cheeks go pink. “Fuck off, Louis. What time is it?”
Harry glanced at his watch. “It’s about 10:05.”
My eyes widened and I pushed the blankets off of me. “Fuck, I’m supposed to be in rehearsal.” I ran out of Niall’s room, giving the three lads a quick wave, and into the spare room, where I had an extra set of clothes. I pulled off the t-shirt and sweatpants that I had been wearing, embarrassed to think that the three of them had seen me in my disgruntled and sleepy state, and stared in the mirror on one of the walls, fixing my hair and tugging at my bra straps to straighten them. I grabbed my leggings and pulled them and a Beatles shirt on, grabbing a hair tie to pull my hair up above my head before lacing up my black converse. I gave myself one last look in the mirror before turning around to finding Harry standing in the open doorway, leaning against it with that ever-present smirk on his face. “Um, hey. How long have you been there?”
“A while.” He answered cryptically. “You look just as good in your knickers as you did last time.”
I blushed at his gaze. “Where are Ni and Louis?”
“They’re downstairs.” He licked his lips slightly, running his eyes up and down my body.
“He dresses fast.” I muttered.
“No, you just dress really slow.” I gave him a slight smile and grabbed my purse, stuffing my phone and wallet into it, walking over to where he was at the door. He didn’t move, and I stood in front of him awkwardly, waiting for him to move. He didn’t. “So, do you and Niall have a thing? Are you two, you know, going at it, or what?”
I blushed. “No. We’re just friends.”
“Really.” I nodded. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you have eyes for him?”
“I don’t know.” I bit my lip, trying to decide whether I did or not.
“So Niall doesn’t have dibs or anything?” He asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Of course not.” I wondered where this was going, anxious to get to the studio. I was already ten minutes late.
“Do you remember a couple weeks ago, when I came to your hotel room?” I nodded. “So you said that you could pull away, right, when I did this.” All of a sudden he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him so we were chest to chest, his hot breath on my face. I instinctively laced my hands behind his neck. I was sure I looked shocked from his perspective.
“Um, yeah, I did.” I stuttered.
“Prove it.” I stayed there, gaping like a fish out of water, trying to pull away from him, my body failing to do what I asked it to. He sat there smirking at me. After a bit, he said, “I think that means you failed. I’m already late. I should probably go.” He planted a kiss on my cheek, leaving me standing there staring at him. “Bye, Scarlett.” He whispered before detaching himself from me and leaving the flat, humming a bit to himself. I stood in the doorway for a moment before finally coming to my senses, shaking my head and running out the door to catch the lift, making sure it locked behind me.
What is wrong with you, Scarlett? I asked myself as the lift descended, beginning its minute-long journey. He’s just a boy. You’re usually really good with boys. Seriously, it’s just Harry. You know Harry likes to be like that, it shouldn’t surprise you.
My thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the elevator. I sighed and walked out of the building, taking the back entrance to avoid being photographed leaving their flat—that might raise a few suspicions, and I was getting enough hate as it was.
***
(The next day—December 18)
I was sitting on Niall’s bed at about 8:00, my shoulders slumped over while I focused my attention between my twitter feed and Niall, who was running about, throwing things into his suitcase. “…and you know, I don’t want to pack too much, but I need to have enough. Do you think my mum’s going to be cross with me if I do my Christmas shopping while I’m there? I’ve only bought something for Greg, so far, and I have everyone else to get stuff for. Do you ever think about how your last name is, like, Cross, like when your mum’s cross with you? I think that’s pretty cool.” He threw one last t-shirt into his suitcase and exhaled deeply, standing in front of me with a crooked smile. “Oi, turn off your phone, Nala.” I grinned at his use of my nickname. I shut it off and slid it into my pocket.
“Only if you slow the fuck down, Simba.” He grinned cheekily at me and started zipping up his suitcase, grabbing a snapback from the floor and pulling it over his messy blond hair. “Why did you even need me to come over? You interrupted my nap.”
“I wanted to say goodbye! In two hours I’m going to get on a plane, and then I won’t see you for, like, two and a half months!” He made a fake pouty face that almost made me start to cry. Because he was going back to Ireland for Christmas, and would be getting back after I left to be on tour, I wouldn’t see him until the tour was over. We’d grown really close in the month that I’d known him—to be honest, closer than I’d ever been with any of my other friends; if I didn’t see him for a couple days, even, I felt a slight emptiness in my stomach, as if it was hollow. Some small part of me knew it was dangerous that I was so attached to him, but the rest of me was too busy liking him to care.
He seemed to notice the water in the corner of my eyes and his gaze softened. “What’s wrong, Scar?”
“I’m going to miss you.” I said, truthfully. So far, my plan for Christmas was to sit in Jake’s flat while my family celebrated without me. My parents still hadn’t answered any of my phone messages.
He dropped the shirt he was holding onto the bed and pulled me into a hug. I felt myself immediately relax. I read something on the internet about how Liam gave the best hugs, but as much as I liked Liam, Niall was so much better than him. He pulls you really close to him and he rubs your back and sometimes his other hand will go up and run through your hair a bit. His hugs make you feel loved, which was exactly what I needed right now. “Hey, I’ll miss you, too. But we’ll Skype, right? And I’ll text you. All the time.”
I nodded and laughed through the few tears that had run down my face. “Yeah, of course.”
He grinned. “Okay, then. I have two hours before I have to leave and let’s spend it being happy, yeah?” He pulled away from me and walked into the kitchen to get us drinks while I flipped on the telly in the living room and sifted through his pile of DVDs, looking for something interesting to watch. I finally settled on a horror movie, because for some reason I decided that I wanted to be scared shitless, and popped it into the player, the menu pulling up on the screen. A very graphic scene of a man in a mask stabbing what used to be a girl played over and over again while some sort of ominous music swelled in the background. “Ni, come on, you’re taking forever!” I called behind me into the kitchen.
His head popped out from behind the counter. “Scarlett, don't rush me!”
“Shut up, you wanker. Just get over here.”
He laughed and walked to the couch, handing me a beer—uncapped, I noticed. He screwed up his face when he saw the telly screen. “Come on, Scar, do we have to watch a horror one? You scream like a little fuckin’ girl whenever we do.”
I mock pouted. “Well guess what, I am a girl, so I’ll scream if I want to. Now sit your arse down because we only have two hours, and I’ll be damned if I have to finish this movie by myself because you took too long getting ready and we don't have time finish it.” He laughed and sat down, letting me prop my legs up on his lap and lean my back against the side of the couch.
We started the movie and watched for about forty minutes, him getting up twice to get more to drink. I had, as Niall had foretold, ‘screamed like a little fuckin’ girl’, but he would just look over at me and laugh at my horrified expression.
“You have nice legs.” He said absentmindedly, about halfway through the movie, during a relatively calm scene. Some girl in her knickers was stripping down to swim in a lake at night. Bad idea, bitch. Bad idea.
“You have nice hair. But you hide it under that damn cap all the time.” I reached over and plucked it from his head, pulling it onto mine and turning back to the movie, ignoring his protests. “For fuck’s sake, how stupid are you?” I yelled at the girl on the screen. “That monster thing that’s in cahoots with the killer’s going to eat you, you dumb bitch.” I threw a pillow halfheartedly towards the telly. Niall laughed and rubbed my legs a bit.
“Scar, you can yell at her all you want, you’re still going to be scared shitless when—” The girl in the water, whose bare chest was very much exposed (awkward; way to choose a movie with mucho nudity to watch with your hopelessly attractive friend, Scarlett), screamed and was pulled under, only to be tossed back above the water seconds later, a huge bite wound with blood pouring from it in her stomach. I yelped at the sight, covering my face with another pillow. He laughed and shook his head at me. “That happens.”
“Fuck off.” I whimpered, still cowering behind my feather-stuffed shield. The movie concluded (guess what—everyone dies) and Niall turned off the telly, glancing at his watch. “I have half an hour until I should leave.”
I sighed. “Okay. Can we go get more to drink? I need to drown my sorrows in alcohol.”
He laughed, a slightly sad look in his eye, and wrapped an arm protectively around my shoulder. “Aw, so me leaving is a sorrow?”
I socked his shoulder and hopped up on a barstool while he grabbed two more bottles. “How many have I had, Ni?” I asked as I accepted the one he handed to me.
“You’ve had four since we started the movie.”
“Perfect. Three more and I’ll be absolutely shattered.”
“By the end of that bottle, you’ll probably be absolutely shattered.” Niall laughed at me, cracking open his bottle.
I took a swig and carefully set mine down on the counter before running at him and pushing him towards the other wall, my hands firmly on his chest. “Are you saying I can’t handle my alcohol, leprechaun?” I teased.
“Well, considering you’ve had about four pints and you’re currently pinning me—very weakly, I must say—against my own kitchen counter, I’d say yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I fake pouted. “This is not a weak pin. You couldn’t get out of it if you tried.”
He easily turned us around and lifted me up, setting me down on the counter so I was sitting with my legs dangling, his hands on my thighs, and mine around his neck. “You’re really sexy.” I blurted out, before thinking.
I couldn’t help it. Flirty/drunk Scarlett had taken over, and flirty/drunk Scarlett hadn’t gotten laid since a drunken one night stand with a random guy the day after Archie and I broke up. Well, the day after I walked in on him in bed with one of my former friends. That was just after Week 4 of the live shows, which means that I haven’t had sex in about two months. And it was killing me. I knew that sleeping with Niall would completely, totally ruin our awesome friendship thing, but he’d gotten me a bit hot-and-bothered today with the snapback and the leg rubbing and the current placement of his hand on my thighs. Earlier, too, he’d snapped my bra strap, which had basically made me explode in horniness. Seriously. He slapped my bra strap and I almost moaned. He’d had very non-offensive motives, too: it was just something he did to annoy me. Our friendship had been riddled with little moments like this, that were very slightly sexual but neither of us took them that way. Until today.
He smirked a bit—fuck, that just made it worse—and rubbed my thighs up and down. “So are you.” He was just about to add something else when Louis walked in. He whistled and turned into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. Niall and I both turned to face him, him saying, “Hey, Lou.” And my drunken mind, wanting to make Louis a bit uncomfortable, blurted out, “This is totally what it looks like.” I didn’t take my hands from Niall’s neck and he didn’t take his from my thighs while the two of them looked at me.
Louis smiled a little, looking half confused and half amused with the situation. Niall stared at me, trying not to laugh. “Did you just say, ‘This is totally what it looks like’?” He asked, rubbing my leg with his thumb.
I grinned and slid off the counter, Niall’s hands slipping off of me and mine detaching from behind his neck. “Yeah, I did.” I stated simply, while Louis rolled his eyes, opening Niall’s freezer and pulling out a pint of ice cream, ignoring Niall’s whines.
“El wanted ice cream and we’re out, Niall, so I’m taking yours.” Louis explained as he pulled a pint of chocolate out of the fridge.
“Eleanor’s here?” I questioned.
“Yeah, we’re just here for—wait, you haven’t met her yet, have you?” I shook my head. “If you just want to come upstairs to my flat, I can introduce you—”
Niall interrupted Louis and wrapped an arm around my waist, drawing me to him. “Nope. Nuh uh. Not a chance, Lou. You can take my ice cream, but I have 25 more minutes before I have to leave and then I won’t see Scar for three months, so I’ll be damned if she spends any of those minutes in your flat.” I expected Niall to have a teasing look on his face, but he looked dead serious.
Louis nodded at him and they exchanged a look. Was there something about this in the bro code? I bet there was. There totally was. “Fair enough, mate. I’ll leave you two alone. I’d say keep it PG, but a goodbye shag is always in order…” Louis trailed off as he exited the flat, giving us a salute goodbye.
“See you later, wanker!” Niall yelled after him before the door slammed shut. We stayed standing there, his arm around my waist, staring at the door, and I rested my head on his shoulder. After about two minutes, he finally sighed. “Let’s go do something, eh?”
I nodded and laced my fingers with his, wondering briefly if all friends were this handsy with each other, and followed him to the bedroom. “If you’re trying to seduce me, you’ll need rose petals or some shit, Horan.” I said with a straight face.
He laughed, throwing his head back, showing his teeth, the metal wire running along it. I realized I was still wearing his hat, so with my free hand, I pulled it off and jammed it on his head. He gave me another sad smile before letting go of my hand and throwing himself on the bed, motioning for me to do the same.
He turned off the lamp, plunging the room into almost darkness. There was a bit of light from outside coming through his thin curtains. He rolled back over so we were facing each other, staring right into each other’s eyes. He slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I gave him a sleepy smile.
After a minute or so, I spoke. “Are we cuddling?”
He stared right into my eyes, and I swear his got a bit shiny with tears. “I guess you could call it that.”
“I never cuddle.”
“You say this as you cuddle with someone.” He gave me a small smile, mimicking what I’d said to him the day I first came home with him to his flat.
“You’re the first in a while.” I added.
“I’m honored, ex-fiancé.”
“You should be, boyfriend.”
“I’m going to miss you like hell.”
“Why would you miss hell, Ni?”
“I’m going to miss you like I’d miss food.”
“God damn, that’s a fucking lot.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to miss you like I’d miss…fuck, what do I like?”
He hummed for a moment. “Beer, and flirting, and the color blue, and you also like flossing your teeth at inappropriate times. You’re quite a fan of Disney movies, hats, green eyes, singing, red knickers, and Ed Sheeran. Plus you like music theory, cookie dough, Little Mix, converse, Batman, reading, twitter, sleeping, walking, winter, Star Wars—”
“I actually like blue eyes better than green eyes, Ni. And stop listing things. I don’t even know all those things about myself.”
“I just pay attention.”
“You’re making me seem like a bad friend!” He raised his eyebrows, a sign I interpreted as, ‘Why?’. “Because I don’t know if I could list that many things about you.”
“What do I like, then?”
I thought for a second before I just started talking, letting the words spew out of my mouth. “Okay, right, so there’s snapbacks, and sunglasses, and food, and alcohol, and football. And you love Zayn Malik and Liam Payne. Then there’s singing, playing guitar, horror films, cuddling, fit girls, FIFA, pranking, Grease, Nando’s, Cheryl Cole, the color blue, sleeping, pubs, Ireland, goldfish, birthdays, white socks, Coldplay, pizza—”
“Okay, I get it. You know me better than I know me, and I’ve known you a month.”
“I’m just very observant, Simba.”
“I can tell, concubine.” He shot me a grin and I giggled.
“You have ten minutes.”
He sighed. “I know.” He tugged me a little closer to him so our noses were touching.
Two more minutes of lying there, intense eye staring, and sad feelings went by before I blurted, “Can I touch your braces?” He laughed, showing off the metal wire.
“Yeah, go for it.” He bared his teeth and I giggled.
“You look like a bear.”
“Shut up and touch my teeth.” I reached forward and poked a finger into the white-and-chrome apparatus, pulling it back quickly when it pricked me.
He closed his mouth and looked at me. “Weirdest request I’ve gotten in a while, Scar.”
“Sorry. I just…I want to remember it all.”
“All of me? Scar, it’s only going to be, like, two and a half months.”
“But what if I come back and it’s different?” I whispered. I’d never really been one for sentimentality: I was more of a one-night-stand and excessive flirting kind of girl, not a heart fluttering, stomach twisting kind.
One Direction seemed to be changing that.
“Look, Scar, I’ve known you a little over a month and I already like you more than, like, ninety-five percent of the people in my life.” He brushed a piece of hair off my face. We acted so…couple-y.
It was weird.
But I liked it.
Niall took a deep breath before continuing. “And I’m going to miss you a lot, like a real fuckin’ lot, because for some reason I just…I just like you a lot and you have that effect on everyone, because you’re nice as all hell and you’re damn fit too and I’m going to miss you a lot and I’ve only known you a month and already I’m lying in bed with you, spending my last five minutes in London with you because I’ll fucking miss you. I can’t even really explain it but I get sort of sad when you don’t come over to my flat for a couple days, because it’s like when I get a taste of you, I just want more and more and I can’t live without it and it’s totally scary, because it’s not even just like I want to shag you, you know, not that I don’t, because you’re damn fit, but it’s more than that, it’s like for some reason you make everything seem nice and—”
“Stop it, you arse, you’re going to make me cry.” I reached up and wiped a tear off my face, because everything he was saying was exactly the same for me. “Scratch that. You did make me cry.”
He reached up and brushed the tear off my cheek. I saw his eyes flicker to the clock on his nightstand. “I have a minute.” He whispered softly.
“I know.”
He sighed and sat up, reaching over and turning on the lamp. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
“Sorry.” I bit my lip before standing and grabbing his backpack, handing it to him.
He shook his head and grabbed his suitcase. “Don’t be. I love it.” He gave me a small smile before turning off his bedroom light and walking out to the living room, me in tow.
I grabbed my purse and slipped on my Toms while he stepped into his high tops. We walked to the lift together. When it finally came, we stepped in and I stared at myself in the gold paneling, pulling faces and laughing at myself. He looked over at me and chuckled before letting go of his suitcase and joining me staring at his own reflection and making faces. I was halfway through baring my teeth and pretending to be a bear, like what I’d said Niall looked like earlier, when the lift door dinged and someone walked in behind us and cleared his throat.
I quickly turned and smiled at the man who only rolled his eyes. I stared straight ahead at the doors while Niall snickered and covered his mouth. The man got off at floor 14—why, I have no clue—and we burst into giggles, clutching our sides. “Why was that so funny?” He asked as we stumbled out of the lift on the first floor.
“I don’t know, but he seriously looked like he wanted to kill us. Like, how dare you make faces in my lift?”
He laughed and rubbed my shoulder while we walked towards the edge of the lobby and out the back door into a small alley, where a car that could just barely fit was parked, a security guard standing outside it, smoking a cigarette. Niall turned to me so we were facing each other.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride back to Jake’s flat?”
“No, I like walking. Besides, you have to get to the airport in time.”
“Yeah.” We sat there, staring at each other until his guard cleared his throat. “I guess it’s time to say goodbye.”
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him to me, feeling his arms around my waist. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?” I asked, trying to hold back my tears.
“Yeah, of course. Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“When you get back to Jake’s flat, could you, like, maybe, leave me a voicemail? Fuck, that sounds really lame.”
“You mean, like, something for you to listen to when you get off the plane?”
“Exactly.”
“Of course I will.”
“Well then…Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas, Ni.”
The guard cleared his throat, and we slowly pulled away. I got on the tips of my toes and placed a slow kiss to his cheek, watching a small smile crack on his face. I pulled away and we looked at each other for a while before he leaned over and pressed his lips to my cheek, making me grin like a maniac. He pulled away and whispered one last thing in my ear. “I meant everything I said earlier. I’ll miss you like hell.” He pulled away and walked over to car, giving me a last wave before climbing into the front.
I stood there, staring as he left, and my heart ached.
That was the worst feeling: when you were so sad that your heart truly ached, a real, physical pain in your chest. I hadn’t gotten that feeling many times, and now Niall, a guy I’d known for a month, was giving me a heartache.
This so wasn’t me.
“Hey.” I sleepily opened my eyes to find a pair of bright green ones right in front of my face. “Your nose twitches when you sleep.”
I groaned and rolled over and felt Niall next to me. He grinned at me, his eyes half-open, and I sat up, trying to assess the situation. Harry had perched himself awkwardly on the side of the bed, fully clothed, in front of me. I saw Louis at the foot of the bed, and I turned back around to glance at the sleepy, shirtless Niall that had been next to me. Harry jumped up from where he’d been lying. “What are you two doing here?” I asked Harry and Louis. Last night I’d slept with Niall—as in, I slept in the same bed as him with him next to me—and I had felt a blush rise to my cheeks as I saw the two of them smirking at us.
Louis lowered his phone, and I realized that he’d been taking pictures of Niall and I together. I rubbed my eyes and turned my head when Louis started talking. “We were supposed to leave for the studio fifteen minutes ago, and all of us were ready except this one right here.” He reached behind me and shoved Niall’s shoulder lightly. “So we came in to check on him, and you lot were making children.”
Niall groaned and I noticed his cheeks go pink. “Fuck off, Louis. What time is it?”
Harry glanced at his watch. “It’s about 10:05.”
My eyes widened and I pushed the blankets off of me. “Fuck, I’m supposed to be in rehearsal.” I ran out of Niall’s room, giving the three lads a quick wave, and into the spare room, where I had an extra set of clothes. I pulled off the t-shirt and sweatpants that I had been wearing, embarrassed to think that the three of them had seen me in my disgruntled and sleepy state, and stared in the mirror on one of the walls, fixing my hair and tugging at my bra straps to straighten them. I grabbed my leggings and pulled them and a Beatles shirt on, grabbing a hair tie to pull my hair up above my head before lacing up my black converse. I gave myself one last look in the mirror before turning around to finding Harry standing in the open doorway, leaning against it with that ever-present smirk on his face. “Um, hey. How long have you been there?”
“A while.” He answered cryptically. “You look just as good in your knickers as you did last time.”
I blushed at his gaze. “Where are Ni and Louis?”
“They’re downstairs.” He licked his lips slightly, running his eyes up and down my body.
“He dresses fast.” I muttered.
“No, you just dress really slow.” I gave him a slight smile and grabbed my purse, stuffing my phone and wallet into it, walking over to where he was at the door. He didn’t move, and I stood in front of him awkwardly, waiting for him to move. He didn’t. “So, do you and Niall have a thing? Are you two, you know, going at it, or what?”
I blushed. “No. We’re just friends.”
“Really.” I nodded. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you have eyes for him?”
“I don’t know.” I bit my lip, trying to decide whether I did or not.
“So Niall doesn’t have dibs or anything?” He asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Of course not.” I wondered where this was going, anxious to get to the studio. I was already ten minutes late.
“Do you remember a couple weeks ago, when I came to your hotel room?” I nodded. “So you said that you could pull away, right, when I did this.” All of a sudden he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him so we were chest to chest, his hot breath on my face. I instinctively laced my hands behind his neck. I was sure I looked shocked from his perspective.
“Um, yeah, I did.” I stuttered.
“Prove it.” I stayed there, gaping like a fish out of water, trying to pull away from him, my body failing to do what I asked it to. He sat there smirking at me. After a bit, he said, “I think that means you failed. I’m already late. I should probably go.” He planted a kiss on my cheek, leaving me standing there staring at him. “Bye, Scarlett.” He whispered before detaching himself from me and leaving the flat, humming a bit to himself. I stood in the doorway for a moment before finally coming to my senses, shaking my head and running out the door to catch the lift, making sure it locked behind me.
What is wrong with you, Scarlett? I asked myself as the lift descended, beginning its minute-long journey. He’s just a boy. You’re usually really good with boys. Seriously, it’s just Harry. You know Harry likes to be like that, it shouldn’t surprise you.
My thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the elevator. I sighed and walked out of the building, taking the back entrance to avoid being photographed leaving their flat—that might raise a few suspicions, and I was getting enough hate as it was.
***
(The next day—December 18)
I was sitting on Niall’s bed at about 8:00, my shoulders slumped over while I focused my attention between my twitter feed and Niall, who was running about, throwing things into his suitcase. “…and you know, I don’t want to pack too much, but I need to have enough. Do you think my mum’s going to be cross with me if I do my Christmas shopping while I’m there? I’ve only bought something for Greg, so far, and I have everyone else to get stuff for. Do you ever think about how your last name is, like, Cross, like when your mum’s cross with you? I think that’s pretty cool.” He threw one last t-shirt into his suitcase and exhaled deeply, standing in front of me with a crooked smile. “Oi, turn off your phone, Nala.” I grinned at his use of my nickname. I shut it off and slid it into my pocket.
“Only if you slow the fuck down, Simba.” He grinned cheekily at me and started zipping up his suitcase, grabbing a snapback from the floor and pulling it over his messy blond hair. “Why did you even need me to come over? You interrupted my nap.”
“I wanted to say goodbye! In two hours I’m going to get on a plane, and then I won’t see you for, like, two and a half months!” He made a fake pouty face that almost made me start to cry. Because he was going back to Ireland for Christmas, and would be getting back after I left to be on tour, I wouldn’t see him until the tour was over. We’d grown really close in the month that I’d known him—to be honest, closer than I’d ever been with any of my other friends; if I didn’t see him for a couple days, even, I felt a slight emptiness in my stomach, as if it was hollow. Some small part of me knew it was dangerous that I was so attached to him, but the rest of me was too busy liking him to care.
He seemed to notice the water in the corner of my eyes and his gaze softened. “What’s wrong, Scar?”
“I’m going to miss you.” I said, truthfully. So far, my plan for Christmas was to sit in Jake’s flat while my family celebrated without me. My parents still hadn’t answered any of my phone messages.
He dropped the shirt he was holding onto the bed and pulled me into a hug. I felt myself immediately relax. I read something on the internet about how Liam gave the best hugs, but as much as I liked Liam, Niall was so much better than him. He pulls you really close to him and he rubs your back and sometimes his other hand will go up and run through your hair a bit. His hugs make you feel loved, which was exactly what I needed right now. “Hey, I’ll miss you, too. But we’ll Skype, right? And I’ll text you. All the time.”
I nodded and laughed through the few tears that had run down my face. “Yeah, of course.”
He grinned. “Okay, then. I have two hours before I have to leave and let’s spend it being happy, yeah?” He pulled away from me and walked into the kitchen to get us drinks while I flipped on the telly in the living room and sifted through his pile of DVDs, looking for something interesting to watch. I finally settled on a horror movie, because for some reason I decided that I wanted to be scared shitless, and popped it into the player, the menu pulling up on the screen. A very graphic scene of a man in a mask stabbing what used to be a girl played over and over again while some sort of ominous music swelled in the background. “Ni, come on, you’re taking forever!” I called behind me into the kitchen.
His head popped out from behind the counter. “Scarlett, don't rush me!”
“Shut up, you wanker. Just get over here.”
He laughed and walked to the couch, handing me a beer—uncapped, I noticed. He screwed up his face when he saw the telly screen. “Come on, Scar, do we have to watch a horror one? You scream like a little fuckin’ girl whenever we do.”
I mock pouted. “Well guess what, I am a girl, so I’ll scream if I want to. Now sit your arse down because we only have two hours, and I’ll be damned if I have to finish this movie by myself because you took too long getting ready and we don't have time finish it.” He laughed and sat down, letting me prop my legs up on his lap and lean my back against the side of the couch.
We started the movie and watched for about forty minutes, him getting up twice to get more to drink. I had, as Niall had foretold, ‘screamed like a little fuckin’ girl’, but he would just look over at me and laugh at my horrified expression.
“You have nice legs.” He said absentmindedly, about halfway through the movie, during a relatively calm scene. Some girl in her knickers was stripping down to swim in a lake at night. Bad idea, bitch. Bad idea.
“You have nice hair. But you hide it under that damn cap all the time.” I reached over and plucked it from his head, pulling it onto mine and turning back to the movie, ignoring his protests. “For fuck’s sake, how stupid are you?” I yelled at the girl on the screen. “That monster thing that’s in cahoots with the killer’s going to eat you, you dumb bitch.” I threw a pillow halfheartedly towards the telly. Niall laughed and rubbed my legs a bit.
“Scar, you can yell at her all you want, you’re still going to be scared shitless when—” The girl in the water, whose bare chest was very much exposed (awkward; way to choose a movie with mucho nudity to watch with your hopelessly attractive friend, Scarlett), screamed and was pulled under, only to be tossed back above the water seconds later, a huge bite wound with blood pouring from it in her stomach. I yelped at the sight, covering my face with another pillow. He laughed and shook his head at me. “That happens.”
“Fuck off.” I whimpered, still cowering behind my feather-stuffed shield. The movie concluded (guess what—everyone dies) and Niall turned off the telly, glancing at his watch. “I have half an hour until I should leave.”
I sighed. “Okay. Can we go get more to drink? I need to drown my sorrows in alcohol.”
He laughed, a slightly sad look in his eye, and wrapped an arm protectively around my shoulder. “Aw, so me leaving is a sorrow?”
I socked his shoulder and hopped up on a barstool while he grabbed two more bottles. “How many have I had, Ni?” I asked as I accepted the one he handed to me.
“You’ve had four since we started the movie.”
“Perfect. Three more and I’ll be absolutely shattered.”
“By the end of that bottle, you’ll probably be absolutely shattered.” Niall laughed at me, cracking open his bottle.
I took a swig and carefully set mine down on the counter before running at him and pushing him towards the other wall, my hands firmly on his chest. “Are you saying I can’t handle my alcohol, leprechaun?” I teased.
“Well, considering you’ve had about four pints and you’re currently pinning me—very weakly, I must say—against my own kitchen counter, I’d say yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
I fake pouted. “This is not a weak pin. You couldn’t get out of it if you tried.”
He easily turned us around and lifted me up, setting me down on the counter so I was sitting with my legs dangling, his hands on my thighs, and mine around his neck. “You’re really sexy.” I blurted out, before thinking.
I couldn’t help it. Flirty/drunk Scarlett had taken over, and flirty/drunk Scarlett hadn’t gotten laid since a drunken one night stand with a random guy the day after Archie and I broke up. Well, the day after I walked in on him in bed with one of my former friends. That was just after Week 4 of the live shows, which means that I haven’t had sex in about two months. And it was killing me. I knew that sleeping with Niall would completely, totally ruin our awesome friendship thing, but he’d gotten me a bit hot-and-bothered today with the snapback and the leg rubbing and the current placement of his hand on my thighs. Earlier, too, he’d snapped my bra strap, which had basically made me explode in horniness. Seriously. He slapped my bra strap and I almost moaned. He’d had very non-offensive motives, too: it was just something he did to annoy me. Our friendship had been riddled with little moments like this, that were very slightly sexual but neither of us took them that way. Until today.
He smirked a bit—fuck, that just made it worse—and rubbed my thighs up and down. “So are you.” He was just about to add something else when Louis walked in. He whistled and turned into the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks. Niall and I both turned to face him, him saying, “Hey, Lou.” And my drunken mind, wanting to make Louis a bit uncomfortable, blurted out, “This is totally what it looks like.” I didn’t take my hands from Niall’s neck and he didn’t take his from my thighs while the two of them looked at me.
Louis smiled a little, looking half confused and half amused with the situation. Niall stared at me, trying not to laugh. “Did you just say, ‘This is totally what it looks like’?” He asked, rubbing my leg with his thumb.
I grinned and slid off the counter, Niall’s hands slipping off of me and mine detaching from behind his neck. “Yeah, I did.” I stated simply, while Louis rolled his eyes, opening Niall’s freezer and pulling out a pint of ice cream, ignoring Niall’s whines.
“El wanted ice cream and we’re out, Niall, so I’m taking yours.” Louis explained as he pulled a pint of chocolate out of the fridge.
“Eleanor’s here?” I questioned.
“Yeah, we’re just here for—wait, you haven’t met her yet, have you?” I shook my head. “If you just want to come upstairs to my flat, I can introduce you—”
Niall interrupted Louis and wrapped an arm around my waist, drawing me to him. “Nope. Nuh uh. Not a chance, Lou. You can take my ice cream, but I have 25 more minutes before I have to leave and then I won’t see Scar for three months, so I’ll be damned if she spends any of those minutes in your flat.” I expected Niall to have a teasing look on his face, but he looked dead serious.
Louis nodded at him and they exchanged a look. Was there something about this in the bro code? I bet there was. There totally was. “Fair enough, mate. I’ll leave you two alone. I’d say keep it PG, but a goodbye shag is always in order…” Louis trailed off as he exited the flat, giving us a salute goodbye.
“See you later, wanker!” Niall yelled after him before the door slammed shut. We stayed standing there, his arm around my waist, staring at the door, and I rested my head on his shoulder. After about two minutes, he finally sighed. “Let’s go do something, eh?”
I nodded and laced my fingers with his, wondering briefly if all friends were this handsy with each other, and followed him to the bedroom. “If you’re trying to seduce me, you’ll need rose petals or some shit, Horan.” I said with a straight face.
He laughed, throwing his head back, showing his teeth, the metal wire running along it. I realized I was still wearing his hat, so with my free hand, I pulled it off and jammed it on his head. He gave me another sad smile before letting go of my hand and throwing himself on the bed, motioning for me to do the same.
He turned off the lamp, plunging the room into almost darkness. There was a bit of light from outside coming through his thin curtains. He rolled back over so we were facing each other, staring right into each other’s eyes. He slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I gave him a sleepy smile.
After a minute or so, I spoke. “Are we cuddling?”
He stared right into my eyes, and I swear his got a bit shiny with tears. “I guess you could call it that.”
“I never cuddle.”
“You say this as you cuddle with someone.” He gave me a small smile, mimicking what I’d said to him the day I first came home with him to his flat.
“You’re the first in a while.” I added.
“I’m honored, ex-fiancé.”
“You should be, boyfriend.”
“I’m going to miss you like hell.”
“Why would you miss hell, Ni?”
“I’m going to miss you like I’d miss food.”
“God damn, that’s a fucking lot.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to miss you like I’d miss…fuck, what do I like?”
He hummed for a moment. “Beer, and flirting, and the color blue, and you also like flossing your teeth at inappropriate times. You’re quite a fan of Disney movies, hats, green eyes, singing, red knickers, and Ed Sheeran. Plus you like music theory, cookie dough, Little Mix, converse, Batman, reading, twitter, sleeping, walking, winter, Star Wars—”
“I actually like blue eyes better than green eyes, Ni. And stop listing things. I don’t even know all those things about myself.”
“I just pay attention.”
“You’re making me seem like a bad friend!” He raised his eyebrows, a sign I interpreted as, ‘Why?’. “Because I don’t know if I could list that many things about you.”
“What do I like, then?”
I thought for a second before I just started talking, letting the words spew out of my mouth. “Okay, right, so there’s snapbacks, and sunglasses, and food, and alcohol, and football. And you love Zayn Malik and Liam Payne. Then there’s singing, playing guitar, horror films, cuddling, fit girls, FIFA, pranking, Grease, Nando’s, Cheryl Cole, the color blue, sleeping, pubs, Ireland, goldfish, birthdays, white socks, Coldplay, pizza—”
“Okay, I get it. You know me better than I know me, and I’ve known you a month.”
“I’m just very observant, Simba.”
“I can tell, concubine.” He shot me a grin and I giggled.
“You have ten minutes.”
He sighed. “I know.” He tugged me a little closer to him so our noses were touching.
Two more minutes of lying there, intense eye staring, and sad feelings went by before I blurted, “Can I touch your braces?” He laughed, showing off the metal wire.
“Yeah, go for it.” He bared his teeth and I giggled.
“You look like a bear.”
“Shut up and touch my teeth.” I reached forward and poked a finger into the white-and-chrome apparatus, pulling it back quickly when it pricked me.
He closed his mouth and looked at me. “Weirdest request I’ve gotten in a while, Scar.”
“Sorry. I just…I want to remember it all.”
“All of me? Scar, it’s only going to be, like, two and a half months.”
“But what if I come back and it’s different?” I whispered. I’d never really been one for sentimentality: I was more of a one-night-stand and excessive flirting kind of girl, not a heart fluttering, stomach twisting kind.
One Direction seemed to be changing that.
“Look, Scar, I’ve known you a little over a month and I already like you more than, like, ninety-five percent of the people in my life.” He brushed a piece of hair off my face. We acted so…couple-y.
It was weird.
But I liked it.
Niall took a deep breath before continuing. “And I’m going to miss you a lot, like a real fuckin’ lot, because for some reason I just…I just like you a lot and you have that effect on everyone, because you’re nice as all hell and you’re damn fit too and I’m going to miss you a lot and I’ve only known you a month and already I’m lying in bed with you, spending my last five minutes in London with you because I’ll fucking miss you. I can’t even really explain it but I get sort of sad when you don’t come over to my flat for a couple days, because it’s like when I get a taste of you, I just want more and more and I can’t live without it and it’s totally scary, because it’s not even just like I want to shag you, you know, not that I don’t, because you’re damn fit, but it’s more than that, it’s like for some reason you make everything seem nice and—”
“Stop it, you arse, you’re going to make me cry.” I reached up and wiped a tear off my face, because everything he was saying was exactly the same for me. “Scratch that. You did make me cry.”
He reached up and brushed the tear off my cheek. I saw his eyes flicker to the clock on his nightstand. “I have a minute.” He whispered softly.
“I know.”
He sighed and sat up, reaching over and turning on the lamp. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
“Sorry.” I bit my lip before standing and grabbing his backpack, handing it to him.
He shook his head and grabbed his suitcase. “Don’t be. I love it.” He gave me a small smile before turning off his bedroom light and walking out to the living room, me in tow.
I grabbed my purse and slipped on my Toms while he stepped into his high tops. We walked to the lift together. When it finally came, we stepped in and I stared at myself in the gold paneling, pulling faces and laughing at myself. He looked over at me and chuckled before letting go of his suitcase and joining me staring at his own reflection and making faces. I was halfway through baring my teeth and pretending to be a bear, like what I’d said Niall looked like earlier, when the lift door dinged and someone walked in behind us and cleared his throat.
I quickly turned and smiled at the man who only rolled his eyes. I stared straight ahead at the doors while Niall snickered and covered his mouth. The man got off at floor 14—why, I have no clue—and we burst into giggles, clutching our sides. “Why was that so funny?” He asked as we stumbled out of the lift on the first floor.
“I don’t know, but he seriously looked like he wanted to kill us. Like, how dare you make faces in my lift?”
He laughed and rubbed my shoulder while we walked towards the edge of the lobby and out the back door into a small alley, where a car that could just barely fit was parked, a security guard standing outside it, smoking a cigarette. Niall turned to me so we were facing each other.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride back to Jake’s flat?”
“No, I like walking. Besides, you have to get to the airport in time.”
“Yeah.” We sat there, staring at each other until his guard cleared his throat. “I guess it’s time to say goodbye.”
I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him to me, feeling his arms around my waist. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?” I asked, trying to hold back my tears.
“Yeah, of course. Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“When you get back to Jake’s flat, could you, like, maybe, leave me a voicemail? Fuck, that sounds really lame.”
“You mean, like, something for you to listen to when you get off the plane?”
“Exactly.”
“Of course I will.”
“Well then…Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas, Ni.”
The guard cleared his throat, and we slowly pulled away. I got on the tips of my toes and placed a slow kiss to his cheek, watching a small smile crack on his face. I pulled away and we looked at each other for a while before he leaned over and pressed his lips to my cheek, making me grin like a maniac. He pulled away and whispered one last thing in my ear. “I meant everything I said earlier. I’ll miss you like hell.” He pulled away and walked over to car, giving me a last wave before climbing into the front.
I stood there, staring as he left, and my heart ached.
That was the worst feeling: when you were so sad that your heart truly ached, a real, physical pain in your chest. I hadn’t gotten that feeling many times, and now Niall, a guy I’d known for a month, was giving me a heartache.
This so wasn’t me.
