#yeah-horan

Even saying all that, I needed a day to myself sometimes. One where the fans weren't clawing at me or screaming in my face. I loved our fans, I really did, but our job was stressful and there was rarely any downtime. It started out exciting, of course, as most things do, but all of us got grumpy sometimes and the fans criticized everything we did. This made our days off so much more appreciated so we could get a break from it all.

This particular day off, I wasn't really expecting anyone to bother me. I had asked all the lads to call me if there were any emergencies, but other than that I wanted to be alone. So, when there was a knock at my front door, I was honestly a bit irritated by it. Why was it so hard for me to get a day to myself?

Pushing myself off my spot on the couch where I had taken refuge for the day, I dragged my feet over to the front door, a frown on my lips and my shoulders slumped forward. I really didn't want to be bothered. This person was lucky that I didn't just turn the volume on my TV up and continue with what I was doing – which was absolutely nothing, if I'm being honest.

Expecting it to be Liam or Louis on the other side, I was shocked when I opened the door to find Cassie standing there with a warm smile stretched across her lips. Her wavy brown hair was cascading around her shoulders, her eyes dancing brightly with excitement as she offered me a small wave.

“Hi,” she squeaked, winding her fingers around each other as she waited for me to respond.

I blinked, looking down at the black and yellow “Woodford County” t-shirt she was wearing that was paired with a pair of gray joggers. I smirked slightly, remembering that she loved Sundays because they were her days to finally relax after a long week at work and at university. Returning my gaze to hers, my grin widened and I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around her shoulders.

She let out a strangled groan as I squeezed her and she shook her head with a laugh, patting my back gently. “Niall, you're going to kill me.”

“Good,” I grunted, but loosened my grip on her before moving my arms to her waist. I hefted her into my arms and threw her over my shoulder, kicking the door closed behind her before moving us into the living room with her in my arms. “That's what you get for not speaking to me in so long.”

“I've been busy,” she protested and I rolled my eyes at her, even though she couldn't see, dumping her on the couch.

I flicked my finger against her forehead and plopped down next to her feet. “Yeah, I heard you got good marks this semester, Miss Einstein.”

She wrinkled her nose at the nickname and kicked at my thigh. “I'm nowhere near an Einstein, Ni. And what about you, Mr. Popstar? I hear you've been pretty busy, yourself.”

I shrugged, shoving my thumb into my mouth and gnawing at the skin. That was always a habit of mine whenever someone brought up my work in a personal setting. I didn't know why, exactly, it just made me uneasy whenever people tried to get me to talk about it. Yeah, it was a big part of my life, but it wasn't the only part of my life I cared about.

Averting my gaze to the TV, I sunk further down against the cushions and got comfortable. “Yeah, I guess. It feels like one big party, honestly. I wouldn't really compare it to the stuff you do.”

“How was tour, by the way?” she questioned suddenly, sitting up and scooting toward me. “I feel like we didn't talk at all.”

I glanced sideways at her, quirking an eyebrow. “That's 'cause we didn't. You never answered my phone calls.”

She raised her eyebrows, poking me in the chest. “And you never answered mine.”

I pursed my lips, examining her unimpressed expression. “I was busy.”

She nodded slowly, turning herself to face the television screen. She stayed quiet after that, watching whatever program that was playing. I couldn't be bothered to look and see what was on, I was too focused on her. It had been so long since I'd seen her that I had almost forgotten what my favorite things were about her face. There was a time, a few months previous, that I had sat with her for hours and ended up memorizing all of them – the slight raise to her eyebrows, the gentle curve of her lips as they sat in a straight line, the barely noticeable rosiness of her cheeks. Her hair had grown since then, but it wasn't too long and it framed her face almost perfectly.

“I missed you,” she mumbled quietly, and if I hadn't been watching as her lips moved, I probably would have missed it.

I frowned, blowing out a short sigh before wrapping my arm around her shoulders and pulling her to me. She complied instantly, resting her head on my shoulder as I traced circles over her upper arm with the pad of my thumb. I laid my head on top of hers and fought the urge to ask just how much she had missed me.

Instead, I licked my lips and stated, “I missed you too.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a while, with her watching TV and me lost in my own thoughts. Honestly, I was really happy to see her, probably more happy than I was letting myself show. It had been a while since we had been able to be like this – just enjoying each other's presence. More often than not, something would come up and I'd have to leave her early or the reporters would find us and we'd have to act like we'd never met before. It hurt when I had to do that. It was hard to pretend like I didn't know her, like she didn't mean so much to me, but it was what we were advised to do in situations like that. It was for her own safety, really. Some of our fans could get pretty nasty and I knew she wasn't ready for that yet.

Feeling her shift beside me, I looked down and found myself smiling as she curled herself into me, her hand resting on my stomach as her other arm rested around my back. She tilted her head up and smiled at me tiredly, letting out a content sigh. It was moments like these that made me want to ask her what was going through her head. Part of me wanted to know if she could feel my chest tighten or if she could somehow feel me go a bit breathless whenever her eyes met mine. If she did, she never showed any signs of it. The other part of me, the more prominent part, worried that she didn't feel the same things I did.

“Are you tired?” I questioned, noticing the way her eyes fluttered as she fought to keep them open.

She shrugged. “Yeah, I didn't get much sleep last night.”

I frowned at her, pulling my eyebrows together. “Why'd you come see me then? You should have stayed home and gotten some sleep.”

“I wanted to see you,” she stated innocently, returning her head to my shoulder. “I don't get to see you often, you know.”

Chewing on my bottom lip, I screwed my face up in thought. She really needed her sleep, I could hear it in her voice when she began to talk slower. Sighing, I pushed her from me and hopped up onto my feet, shutting the TV off with a flick of the remote. She looked up at me in confusion and I grinned, moving toward her and scooping her up into my arms. She squealed, wrapping her arms around my neck to steady herself as I stumbled forward a bit. I chuckled, tightening my hold on her and beginning to make my way out of the room.

She stared at me, her eyes narrowing as if she was trying to figure out my motive. All I did was grin cheekily and ignore her. She would thank me later.

Pushing in through the bedroom door, I chanced a glance at her and bit my lip when I noticed her looking around and smirking when she realized what I was doing. I set her down gently on the bed and crawled over her to lay down next to her. She turned to me with a small smile, raising her eyebrows in silent question.

I shrugged. “You said you were tired, so sleep.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, poking at my (more than likely) flushed cheeks. “I came here to spend time with you, not to sleep.”

I caught her hand in mine before she could pull it away from my face and grinned. “You will be spending time with me. We'll just be sleeping.” Noticing that she still looked uncertain, I sighed and slid closer to her, pulling her head onto my chest. “Come on, just for a few hours. Then we'll order some take away and watch some films or summin'.”

Relaxing against me, she pursed her lips and nodded. “A few hours.”

“Yup, only a few hours,” I confirmed, pressing a chaste kiss to her hairline. “Now sleep.”

It didn't take her long to fall asleep. Within minutes I felt her breathing become steadier and her body go limp against mine. She hadn't been kidding when she said she was tired. I, on the other hand, had gotten plenty of sleep the previous night and knew that if I fell asleep that I would have never gotten any that night, so I opted for just staring at the ceiling and staying as still as possible. It didn't even matter to me that much when the arm that was resting around her started to go numb. She was comfortable and I rarely got to see her, let alone hold her, so I was going to do as much as I could to take advantage of the time I had with her. A few numb limbs would be worth it.

After a while, though, I did start to get a bit bored. There were only so many thoughts that could occupy me until I ran out of things to think about that didn't include how close Cassie was to me or how her hand kept brushing up against the patch of exposed skin between the waistband of my trousers and my t-shirt. At times, I thought she was doing it on purpose, trying to get a rise out of me, but every time I looked down at her her eyes were closed and her lips were slightly parted as she breathed steadily. I guessed it was just in my head, most likely wishful thinking. Part of me wanted her to be doing it on purpose just so I'd have a reason to ask why.

I sighed after she did it for the fifth time within the first 30 minutes since she had fallen asleep and I moved my free hand to grab it, clutching it tightly in mine so she wouldn't move it in her sleep. I wasn't going to lie, I liked the feeling of her soft fingertips on my skin – probably a bit too much to be considered friendly – and at this point I just hoped she didn't wake up to find me holding her hand.

Feeling her squirm against me, my eyes widened and I swallowed thickly, turning my head to her. Her eyes fluttered slightly and she sighed, letting them slide open to look at me.

She smiled gently, her eyes still fogged over from sleep, and wiggled her fingers from in between mine. “Hi.”

I hesitantly returned the smile, my eyes quickly going to our entwined hands before returning to her. “Hey.”

She blinked a few times, a loud yawn squeezing past her lips. “Did you sleep at all?”

My lips pressed into a firm line and I shook my head guiltily. “No.”

She shook her head at me and rolled her eyes, pulling away from me to sit up and throw her hair up into a hair tie.

I sat up next to her, not being able to stop myself from staring at the black lines on the back of her neck. Without thinking, I reached out and ran a nimble fingertip along them, tracing the pattern carefully. She froze underneath my touch, glancing over her shoulder at me with furrowed eyebrows. I quickly pulled my hand away when I realized what I was doing and cleared my throat, curling my hands together in my lap.

“When'd you get the tattoo?” I asked, hoping she wouldn't notice how jittery my hands had gotten.

She screwed her face up in thought. “About two weeks ago, I think.”

I nodded, looking back up to examine it. “Is it-” I hesitated, tilting my head to the side to see it better. “Is it a four leaf clover?”

Laughing lightly, she nodded. “Four leaf clovers mean good luck, right?”

I scrunched my nose, nudging her with my elbow. “If you believe in that stuff.”

“You don't?” she asked with raised eyebrows, turning around to face me. “I thought you were the one who's Irish and feeling lucky.”

I snorted. “That's got nothing to do with four leaf clovers.”

“It does,” she objected, smacking me on the arm when I laughed at her. “It does! Four leaf clovers bring you good luck and it's also a trademark sign for the Irish. Everyone associates the Irish with four leaf clovers and you're Irish, therefore you're lucky!”

I ran a hand over my face, trying not to laugh too hard at her ridiculous logic, but failed. “You're an idiot, y'know that?”

She scowled at me playfully, flicking me on the nose. “Yeah, but you love it.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Staring down at my hands, I chewed on the inside of my cheek, the question I'd been wanting to ask on the tip of my tongue. I let out a frustrated sigh and got up, turning around to face her but not taking my eyes off my feet. I cleared my throat and ran a hand through my hair. It was then or never. If I didn't ask then I'd lose my nerve and I'd never know.

Scratching at the side of my nose, I raised my eyes to look at her and felt my chest constrict at the sight of her staring back at me, her eyes wide. I faked a cough and glanced away, wincing at how awkward the atmosphere had gotten so quickly. I hated when I did things like this. I just needed to spit it out already. “How do you...how do you, uh, feel about me?”

I was greeted by silence and I looked back at her to see if she had heard me. Her eyebrows were raised in surprise and she was slowly lifting herself to her feet.

“What do you mean, exactly?” she asked, her hands fiddling with each other nervously.

I shoved the side of my thumb into my mouth and started gnawing at it, speaking around it, “I mean, like...” I paused for a few seconds, letting out an exasperated sigh when my words failed me, and dropped my hands to my sides. “Fucked if I know.”

She let out a breathy laugh, stepping toward me. “How do I feel about you as what, Niall? A friend? A person? A musician?”

“As more than a friend...'cause I...you know, can't tell,” I stuttered out, my eyes going wide as soon as the words were out in the open. I fought to keep myself calm, even though it felt like my heart was going to beat out of my chest at any minute and my palms had started to go sweaty. So much for not having the courage to say it because I had asked and I couldn't have been more surprised at myself for it.

She started slightly at that, her mouth dropping into an “o” shape as she nodded slowly. Tilting her head to the side, she drew in a deep breath. “Um, well-”

“You don't like me like that, do you?” I interrupted, feeling myself start to panic when she hadn't even said anything yet. I hid my face behind on of my hands and felt my face heating up. Why couldn't I just shut up?

“Niall,” she chuckled, and her slim fingers wrapped around my palm, pulling my hand from my face. She smiled gently at me when I opened my eyes. “You need to relax.”

My throat felt like it was closing in on itself and I swallowed roughly, nodding slightly in response because it felt like I wouldn't have been able to speak even if I tried. I guessed it was a good thing though because it seemed that my mouth was working a lot faster than my brain was.

“Seriously,” she stated sternly, placing a hand on my cheek and running her thumb along the line of my jaw. “Relax.”

I shook my head, still feeling the panicky feeling coursing through me, and closed my eyes tightly. “I-I can't.”

She sighed and suddenly her lips pressed tightly to mine, my body going tense at the contact. She moved her hands to my shoulders, pushing herself up onto her toes so we were closer. I felt the tight feeling in my chest starting to fade away as I gasped and put my hands on her hips, pulling her closer to me. She smirked into the kiss, sliding her hands to the hair on the back of my neck and twisting it around her fingers.

She pulled away slightly, leaving a mere few centimeters between our lips as she grinned up at me.

“Re-lax,” she repeated slowly, the light in her eyes dancing across the dark color of her irises. Her eyes floated back down to my lips and she moved herself closer to me before closing the gap between us again.