head in the clouds // niall horan au

part ii

It's an absolutely scorching July day. Rory is miserable.

She's also very hungover.

The night was spent hanging out with Harry, Leslie, and Gigi in Harry's room. The three of them passed around contraband alcohol and a joint that Gigi managed to snag from the Shack boy she may or may not be hooking up with. Rory indulged until her limbs were somehow loose and heavy at the same time. Indulged until the world was a blur around her. Indulged until she could fall into her thick pillows on her bed, fall into a blissful, easy sleep where there would be no dreams of brown eyes and high cheekbones and that Shack boy uniform of jeans and a denim jacket.

No visions of heartbreak in drunken dreamland for her.

She hears him before she sees him. "Hiya, Rory!" Niall's not wearing his sunnies when he pops his face in front of her line of sight, his eyes a shock of bright blue. They catch the sun and—did they just sparkle? Rory wonders if she's still drunk. Her face must have shown her thought process because he laughs that annoying, loud, buoyant laugh of his and she's starkly reminded of how bad her head is pounding. "You alright?" he asks, grinning stupidly, and she just knows that he knows what they got up to last night. He and Harry and Leslie have somehow become friends and he must've gotten a recap of events from them.

She rolls her eyes, even though she knows he can't see from behind her sunglasses. "Not in the mood, Horan." She grunts, sliding off the lifeguard chair, ignoring his hand of help once again and grumpily making her way to her next post.

It's barely pushing noon so the pool isn't as full as it usually gets. The unbearable heat of today, though, makes her envy the children splashing around in there. Oh, what she would do for a dip in that cool, refreshing water.

Niall blows the whistle for adult swim and the kids begrudgingly get out, flocking towards the stands for ice cream and various other sweet treats. There are only three lifeguards on duty now so they've got only half the pool open. Rory doesn't mind this because it's not busy and she can usually spare a few moments during adult swim to work on some sketches, her fingers leading her pencil mindlessly across the page, as though they had a mind of their own.

She glances up occasionally. There are only three adults in the pool but she knows the importance of being alert. Accidents can happen in a split second and it's her job to be careful. As her eyes scan the pool, they land briefly on Niall, perched on his lifeguard chair, whistle hanging loosely on his lips. It's not long now until adult swim is over, so she goes back to sketching. But then, she finds herself looking up again, eyes drawn to this boy she swears she finds endlessly annoying.

He's shucked his shirt off, broad shoulders and taut abdomen on full display, and for some reason unbeknownst to Rory, her eyes decide to zero in on the bead of sweat glistening on his collarbone, visible even from their distance. The sight makes her acutely aware of the perspiration dripping down her back, her swimsuit sticking to her skin, and suddenly she feels heat wash over her entire body, seeping into her skin and flushing into her bloodstream until she feels like a fireball.

She looks down at her sketchbook again but it's as though her eyes lose focus. It's absolutely scorching, despite her being under an umbrella, and all she wants to do is jump into the pool.

And then it happens.

It starts with one drop. Then two. Then it's pouring and Niall's blowing his whistle ordering everyone out of the pool and the spell is broken and Rory feels like she can breathe again. She steps off her chair, shoving her sketchbook into her waterproof bag and standing under the opened up sky, rain cascading down her face, cooling her skin. Her mind had been so preoccupied that she hadn't even noticed when the clouds rolled in.