She | h.s

thirty-nine

I woke up to a repeated ringing at my front door, a warm body wrapped around mine, and my phone going off like crazy.

An amazing start to my day, I know.

I sit up, turning over to see Elio sleeping peacefully next to me, his arm falling off of my torso as I adjust myself to sit upright as I grab my phone, texting both Sarah and Lou that I was okay, and that I'd fill them in later today.

I bend down to kiss Elio on the cheek, unsure of why but he smiles, eyes peeking through the mess of his floppy brown hair and his pale skin beaming against the sun.

"Good morning," he grumbles, sitting up and mirroring my position.

"Afternoon, actually." I say, surprising us both as I see the time, 12:38 pm.

"Holy shit, we were that tired from last night?" He jokes, his lip curling into a smirk and I laugh.

"Well I can't blame us, last night was amazing. Do you want some breakfast? Someone's been knocking on my front door for quite a bit so I guess we definitely have to get up now," I say, climbing off of the bed and stretching.

He stares at me, still sitting comfortably on my bed and I notice his eyes rake my body. My legs, my thighs, my arms, my neck, he looked like he was ready to devour me, which made my stomach turn in the best way possible.

He groans as I pull on a pair of shorts, protesting against me dressing decently and I remind him that I had to answer the door. Searching through my closet, I look for an old tee shirt I knew Louis had left here and never cared for again, throwing it at him to put over so that he wouldn't have to walk around in his boxers all day.

"Is this another man's shirt?" He teases me, and I roll my eyes at him.

"Shut up and get decent, there's still someone at the door."

Getting to the kitchen was nearly impossible with his arms around my waist constantly, pulling me close to him as if I were to disappear at the very second. I answer the door as he grabs the box of pancake mix I had instructed for him to grab at the pantry, as well as the other things we needed to create the best breakfast possible.

"Niall, hi." I say sheepishly, an infuriated frown plastered onto his face. To my surprise, he sighs, then grabs me and pulls me into the tightest hug he possibly could.

"Fuck you," He says, pulling back and stepping into the threshold of my home, pulling his shoes away and furrowing his brows at the pair of black men's sneakers put away neatly next to mine.

"Good afternoon to you too," I say, walking down the hall.

"Daisy where the fuck were you last night?" He follows me, stomping angrily and then stopping almost immediately as he makes eye contact with Elio, now dressed with an apron on him cooking pancakes.

"I went out, I had to clear my head after talking to Har—"

"Harry! I know! He called me up at around midnight saying that you hadn't returned any of his calls, scared the shit out of all of us. I almost filed a missing persons report down at the station. And I'm sorry-" He turns away from me, making eye contact with Elio once more and Elio smiles at him.

"But who the fuck are you? And why are you in my best friend's house making pancakes at one in the afternoon?" He asks, his arms flailing all over the place in frustration and confusion.

"Is this a bad time? Or..." Elio says, completely confused as to why Niall was yelling. "I'm Elio by the way, it's nice to meet you."

"Okay, will you let me finish my story?" I sigh, making Niall take a seat on the sofa and he does, sighing disappointedly.