Niall's Girl

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty One

I kicked my foot in annoyance, trying to get back to sleep. But the irritating tickling sensation remained, so I angrily forced open my eyes. Niall was stood at the end of my bed, grinning down at me as he tickled my foot. I kicked his hand away before scowling.

"Niall, what the hell are you doing in my house?" Was the first thing I said.

Niall pouted. "That's the thanks I get for driving all the way here to look after my sick friend?" He glared at me jokingly.

"You came all the way here for me?" My voice was full of surprise. I started to prop myself up on my elbows but my head started throbbing. "Woah, dizzy." I muttered, slowly lying back down.

"Yes, I came here for you." Niall said, shaking his head as if I was stupid for asking. "You call me, telling me you think you might be dying because you hit your head on a road after being hit by a fucking car, and you expect me to stay at home? Especially after also telling me your parents are away! I was worried sick! Where are they, anyway?"

"Um..." I had to think back to the voicemail message. They had been away so much recently I almost couldn't keep up. "Ireland, I think."

Niall's pretty little face lit up, his smile warmer than the sun. "Ireland?! I love Ireland!" He shouted happily and I would have laughed at him if my head weren't thumping with pain.

"Niiiiiiiii," I said, widening my eyes and smiling at him pleadingly.

"Yes?" he said, jumping up like a kangaroo off my bed. "No need to give me those eyes, Em, I'm here to be your slave! What do you need?"

Niall Horan was my slave? Well this was an unexpected but pleasantly surprising major life event. My thoughts started running wild. I gulped nervously, hoping he didn't realise the way my cheeks were dusted with pink at my dirty thoughts.

"Pain killers please! They're in the cupboard in the bathroom." Niall gave a quick nod before skipping out of my room. That boy was just a bundle of energy.

When he had left the room, I took in a massive gulp of air. Niall was in my bedroom. Niall Horan. I still, after all this time and all we'd been through, could not believe we were friends. And definitely couldn't believe he was so sweet he drove all the way from London overnight to come to my house in Manchester. Actually, scrap that. I could believe it - he was an amazing person, as cheesy at that sounds.

He was just like the person I used to watch and admire on interviews - funny and bubbly and optimistic and genuine.

When he walked back in with two pills in his hand and a glass of water, I finally noticed what he was wearing. He had baggy grey sweats on with a green derby football shirt. It was how I had always imagined him at home, chilling, watching a movie. Most people would have looked like a chav, but he just looked annoyingly hot.

"Thanks," I grinned as he passed over the paracetamol. I swallowed the pills with a large gulp of water before placing it on my bedside table. "Wanna watch a movie?" I asked and Niall nodded, moving over to the stack of DVDs in the corner.

"What d'you want to watch?" He said as he bent down, giving me a very nice view.

"Nice bum." The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Huh?" Niall turned around, his eyebrows raised in confusion.

"Er, nothing. I said you choose." I avoided his gaze as my cheeks blushed red. He seemed to accept the blatant lie, and turned back around before taking grabbing the one he wanted. He slipped it into my television which was hung on the wall facing the bed before hopping onto the mattress beside me. I lifted the duvet so he could snuggle under it and he did so enthusiastically, slinging an arm around my shoulder. I had managed to prop myself up, leaning against the pillows and the headboard.