Never Forget [book one]

Chapter Thirty

Rosaline's POV:

I woke up in the middle of the night worried that Niall had left me and was never going to come back. I had expected him to be laying down next to me sleeping, to give me a reassurrance that it was only a dream, but apparently not.

The house was surprisingly warm for once as I wripped the duvet off of myself to get out of bed.

No one was awake in the house... atleast not as far as I knew, because there were no lights on upstairs.

I went downstairs in hope to find Niall, but he was no where to be seen... The lights weren't exactly on to for him to be seen, but I whispered his name multiple times, and felt around everywhere, and got no type of response, only to recieve scratches from bumping into pointy objects.

I decided that I should just leave it alone, because he'd probably ended up going to one of the other guy's room, but I doubt he had gone out of the house.

As I was passing through the main living room to get to the staircase, the tip of my bare toes met with something hard, but soft. It was probably a suitcase just sitting in the middle of the floor, so I tried taking a huge step over it starting with my left foor, and instead of my right foot doing the same, it accidently hits the suitcase, causing me to trip over it.

Landing on the suitcase would have been just as painful as landing on the floor; I was grateful that I fell onto the carpet instead.

I huffed my hair out of my face as I laid on my back. The suitcase next to me liberated a grunt, leading to me shriek in petrification. I jumped up to the light, decreasing the proximity between me and the... person?

I threw my hand over my chest, relieved to see the face that I had been looking for.

"Niall! What hell are you doing on the floor?"

The shirtless boy, propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at me, while squinting because of the light. "I was sleeping."

"But..." I still stood on the other side of the room, awkardly, with a pained expression. "But, why not with me?"

"I've actually slept majority of the plane ride, so I couldn't really sleepy before."

So he wasn't jetlagged? And that wasn't really answering my question...

I was silent, and he just looked at me expectantly.

After a few moments of staring, I chose to change the subject.

"Where's your shirt?"

He looked down at his body, then back up to me, a smile curling to his lips. "You're wearing it."

A blush crept to cheeks, as I looked down at the white over sized shirt I was wearing. "Oh... right."

Conversations between us were beginning to get awkward, and... weird.

"But don't you own like a million other shirts, princess?" I inquired, sarcastically.

"I do actually." He laughed, laying back down on his back. "But it's kind of hot anyway."

Exactly what I thought when I had gotten out of bed a few minutes ago.

He patted the spot on the floor next to him.

I wasn't sleepy anymore, so I figured, What the heck. Why not?

Before I went and sat next to him, I turned around to check the godfather clock for the time.

3:23 am.

I was sure he wasn't sleepy anymore after the big fall, and scare. It would probably give us time to talk about what ever had been on his mind earlier.