I couldn’t help but to stare at how peaceful she was in my bed. Nothing happened the night before, which I’m proud of. I’m known for being the one to convince women to sleep with me but this wasn’t the case with this particular woman. I got to know her. I got to know who she really was rather than what her bra size was. She was Carly. There were no others words to describe how unique she was to other girls.
Her slow breathing and the way she moved inch by inch to regain the comfort of her sleeping position. I could see nearly-blonde streaks starting from the roots of her hair down to the tips. Her arm was slung around the pillow, using it as a replacement for an actual body beneath her small frame. Her hair reached the small of her back. Her rosy cheeks with the porcelain face were absolutely breathtaking. She was everything, as of right now.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” She mumbled into the pillow. I hadn’t noticed I was staring for so long.
“You’re just so damn beautiful, babe. Are you gonna get up or what?” She nodded into the pillow and turned so her back and bum were faced towards me. Her foot dragged up my leg as she got comfortable. “Are you falling asleep on me again?”
“No. I’m just resting my eyes a bit. I’m tired from sleeping.” I tugged at her shirt but she refused to move. I ran a cold hand under her shirt and felt around her warm back. I could feel the bumps rise on her skin as I dragged it lazily around her waist and her lower back.
“Wake up, baby. It’s the afternoon, sweetheart.” I cooed. I never gave pet names to girls, anyone really. It was just so fun right now. She allowed me to experiment the things I’ve never done to a girl before. I just met the girl a few hours ago and I think I’m in some sort of love.
I ran for my life into New York City. I had nearly twenty girls, many who were at least in the age range of 9-12, chasing me and yelling my name. I always expected this to happen but not when I was on vacation in America. The boys and I were finally hitting it off and we just need some wiggle room.
“NIALL! NIALL WE LOVE YOU!” Their shrieks were incredibly high. I’m surprised that they can go higher than Harry. It just makes me wonder why Mary hadn’t been one to notice me off in an instance. When we first bumped into each other, considering her age, I expected her to yell and point and burst into a million pieces. She didn’t even recognize me…she knows me as Niall Horan, a regular boy from Ireland who loves to eat and just hang out, not as Niall Horan, the blonde one from the worldwide boy band One Direction.
I ran into an alley and hid behind the large garbage bin. I’ve been trained to run this much, even for miles on end. I was lucky enough to be ahead by so many minutes that it allowed me time to regulate my breathing and think of some disguise I could use to at least go back to Simon’s apartment.
“Let’s go crazy, crazy, crazy till we see the sun! I know we only met but let’s pretend it’s love!” My phone blasted the damned ringtone. The song echoed in the alley. Who in the hell could be calling me now?
“Hey mate! Where are you? You haven’t been home since last night!” Zayn’s thick accent rang in my ears.
“Uh, hey. I just finished the daily cardio and breakfast with the girl from last night. What about you?”
“The chick left about ten minutes ago. She said she’ll call me but I highly doubt it. So, what about that girl yesterday? Hell of a great time wasn’t she?” He orally nudged me. He wanted the truth and everything else dirty. What should I tell him? I like her because she’s simple?
“She’s fine Zayn. She’s actually prefect. I don’t know mate but, I think I really like her…” He laughed lightly on the other line.
“You’re in love, dude. Did she give you the digits or what?”
The conversation became awkward after a pause between the sentences. His breathing was highly auditable through the phone. “Well, I’ll phone Harry, Liam, and Lou. We have the studio recording today, don’t forget it. See ya later, bye.”
Studio recording. How a complete load of utter bullshit. I absolutely hate the career I have but I love the attention it brings upon me, due to the fact how I wasn’t really known back in Mullingar. It took nearly two years to get us where we are now. The XFactor and Simon were really the only things that brought me to where I am with the four brothers I love and a career that pays everything I live off of.
What if I tell her that I’m practically a millionaire? Will she run away and be overwhelmed because her newfound boyfriend, or what I want to be, is always on tours and signings and constantly leaving countries every week or so? I don’t want to lie. She’s a girl that shouldn’t be lied to. I can’t deal with fame and my simple regularity with having a mere crush on one of the most fantastic girls I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Or what if I’m simply delusional? I may be falling too hard, too fast. She may not like me as much as I like her. She could just be in it for sex for all I know. Every story has two sides and this is mine. The unpublished one lies deep in her thoughts and her behaviors towards me. She has the pen to the story that lies between us.
It all started here.
It isn’t love, is it? I feel as if I should just drop the thought of this massive weight and start focusing on the new album…but it still lingers in the back of my head.
Okay, it was just a simple euphoric and drunk moment but she was fully aware. It’s lust, definitely, but I doubt there’s anything more. If there were anything more, I would be going nuts about this…which I am…but I don’t love her…yet…