Capture My Heart (BK3: Niall Horan)

-Ch 8: Neatly wrapped in lies.

CHAPTER EIGHT- Neatly wrapped in lies.

-Ashley Dawson-

“Nice sex hair,” Mallory commented as soon as I flung the front door open. The cold October morning hit me making goose bumps rise on my skin, drawing the ideas of the fall perfectly.  I frowned at her as she stepped inside; I ran a self-conscious hand through my tangled locks at the comment.

“No, this is just morning hair,” I grumbled still wearing a frown at the day ahead of me.

Without giving much thought to the fact that I was nowhere near ready and running late I padded across the foyer with haste and fumbled around the sofa cushions for the remote. In my panic, it took me a few attempts to switch the TV on and find the correct channel for the much needed travel reports. Mallory was still hot on my heels, much more ready for the day than I was.

“Well I can tell you’re bright as day already,” she breathed slumping down onto a sofa behind me she placed a cushion on her lap, running her fingers over the plush materiel like it was a kitten or something. I sent her a look but she was just smirking to herself, clearly not even fazed by this remark she had shed.

I heaved a sigh as she examined the split ends that weren’t there of her long, dark, locks, hair sprayed into perfection not a strand was out of place. To cure my hair I probably needed a shower, but it was blatantly obvious that I didn’t have time for that.

“’Ello Mallory!” Niall chirped his footsteps calming to a slower gait as he finished his run down the stairs. Mallory lifted a hand in acknowledgement and then a few seconds later looked up, flashing a brief smile.

“Niall,” she said. “Late again?”

“Eh,” Niall shrugged fishing his phone from his pocket all while I fussed with my hair in the mirror above the mantelpiece, fumbling around for a hairband to chuck it up with. “Only half an hour. I did well today.”

“Right,” Mallory chuckled as she ran her hands through her hair. “It’s not like Zayn left an hour ago or anything.”

“Nah,” Niall waved a dismissive hand. “It’ll be fine.”

I sent him a look in which he grinned at me, clearly unfazed by the fact that he was fairly late, again. I sighed in too much of a daze with my own tardiness to address his. I probably cared more than Niall about whether he got anywhere on time or not. Although my hair alternating sequences were cut short as he casually sauntered over, brushing it from my shoulder and touching his lips to my ear.

“What time you back tonight?” he breathed into my ear as his fingers entangled with my hair. I hoped he wasn’t going to start running them through it, considering that would probably hurt a lot.

Mallory looked up at us and raised an inquisitive eye-brow, but then she shrugged it off, going back to finding her imaginary split ends a bit more interesting, which didn’t exactly surprise me.

“Nine…?” I shrugged returning my gaze to myself in the mirror, I hadn’t even started on my make-up yet, it had been an effort to get dressed. Maybe this was because I was feeling sick for the events of today, but that was probably nothing new.

“Did you just say sixty-nine?” Mallory enquired raising her eye-brows sceptically in a completely serious manner.

“Of course,” Niall winked and I rolled my eyes. He then turned back to me, watching me in the mirror. “Eight,” he protested giving me a pointed look.

“Half eight.”

“Quarter past eight.”

“Half eight.”