Trouble. (niall horan au)

chapter 3 - vanilla lips

"So how was your day at school?" my mom asked conversationally as I entered the kitchen.

I threw down my backpack and paused, glancing down at the small cut on my knuckle that had been caused by punching Niall in the face. It was still shocking to me that I actually hit him. I wouldn't be surprised if it hurt my hand as much as it hurt his face. Yet it was strange, as I wasn't a person who really believed in violence. It was a spur of the moment thing, fueled by pure panic.

"Oh you know," I said vaguely, "It was- fine."

"You don't sound fine," she said, swatting my hand away as I attempted to steal a taste from the sauce she was stirring on the stove.

I forced myself to smile, "Just- you know typical teenage life. Had a long day."

There was truth to that though, it had been a long day. A long day that got myself tangled in with a lilac haired, awful boy. I didn't see him again after that. Maybe because I was avoiding him or he was doing the same, either way was fine.

So I finished my homework, ate dinner, changed into pajamas and settled down in front of the TV with a bowl of icecream cradled in my lap around nightfall. My mom had just left moments before to go pick up some milk for the morning. Hell would break loose if that lady didn't have her cereal. Besides, she would make fun of me if she saw the late night talk show I was watching; a bunch of older ladies sitting around a table laughing and complaining. "Men, right?" one of them called, while the others voiced their agreement. "They're as terrible as MENopause. Get it? Get it?" More laughter and free gifts under the seats of the crowd.

"Amen, sister," I said.

And then there was a knock on the door.

I was a little suspicious, considering that it was late and there wasn't any reason for someone to visit. With a groan I got to my feet, thinking that my mom must've forgotten her purse or something and gotten locked out. Using my socks to slide up to the door, I undid the lock and threw it open.

"Did you forget some-" I began to say, stopping short when I caught sight of the figure outside.

"Hey, sweetheart." Niall said, leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

I stood there and tried to stammer out a witty reply, shocked by his appearence. "This is- um, the wrong house. She lives next door."

"Oh, really," he said casually, gently taking the icecream bowl from my clenched hands. He took a large bite, pausing to lick the spoon. I stared in horror, and in my numbed state I worried more about my icecream then anything. That was the last of the container. "Because I'm looking for this cute little girl," he continued, "Who gets this deer in head lights look and crinkles her nose when she's surprised." He pointed the spoon at me. "Sort of like what you're doing now."

I panicked and swung the door shut, but he stuck his dirty white converse out and blocked it from closing all the way. He pushed it open and entered casually as if he owned the place.

"Geeze, I was waiting forever for your mom to leave," he huffed irritably.

I bolted into the kitchen, ignoring his shouts for me to stop. My only sensible thought at the moment was to get away from him. Nearly tripping on the slippery tiles, I darted behind the center counter to put some space between us. Niall sauntered in slowly before standing on the other side and eyeing me wearily.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, "Leave. This is forced entry."

Niall spread his hands out on the counter and leaned forward, "Listen, babe, I could've easily entered your house, but at least I was polite enough to knock."