In the court of law || h.s.

12

Morgan Wilson.

...

I like to be early. There is still a good ten minutes or so till we agreed to meet up, but I hate to make people wait. I will rather wait for them instead.

I take a breath and bring my knuckled fists to the surface of the couch underneath me to lift myself up a bit and adjust my seat. I'm sitting in a navy-blue couch at a small café, the same café I actually met the boys the first time. In front of me is a small table and across that two armchairs, one of them curry-yellow and the other dark green.

Normally I would say the colors are a little wild, but in here it fits pretty good. The whole café is in general very stylish.

There are a few pillars from the ceiling to the floor in dark wood, and big open windows across the whole room. The walls in between the windows are the same shade as the wooden pillars making the room seem rather dark and mysterious, which the festoons across the ceiling makes up for. I like it here.

I can't believe I've been living in this town for so long never even noticing this café. It's definitely a place I am gonna come back to.

I raise my hand slightly as a waiter walks past and she comes up to me. I don't know why, but I always get really nervous when ordering.

"How can I help you?" a young voice asks. She can't be older than seventeen, maybe even sixteen. She smiles bright with her apron tied tight around her itty-bitty waist. Her hair is dark brown and cut to the shoulders.

"I would like to order a bottle of water and a bowl of chips, if that could be possible?" I ask carefully trying to seem somewhat confident enough to order for myself.

"Coming right up" she speaks as she scribbles on her block and smiles before she turns around and walks away toward the bar.

I haven't seen Zayn for at least a couple days. That feels nice. It's Saturday today, meaning he probably will be around town, so I just have to stay put and not make too much of a notice today. It is really stressing me out how he is in town still, I don't understand why he isn't just going home. I don't need him here.

The waiter from before walks up to my table with a small, braided basket filled with salt chips and a bottle of water in the other hand. She places it on my table, still smiling.

"There you go" she says and smiles even brighter, if possible. Oh, to have that happiness.

The door squeezes ajar in a slow movement and I turn my head at it. In walks Niall and Louis and I raise my hand to wave them toward me.

Louis is wearing a light cowboy jacket with some sort of fur on the inside, a pair of light grey sweatpants and some football hoodie. Niall is wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of slightly ripped jeans with sneakers on his feet.

Jesus, none of them know how to dress.

They both look kind of tired, like they haven't been sleeping much, which I get, because I haven't exactly been sleeping my best recently either.

"Hey!" Niall speaks as he gets a little closer and his eyes light up the second he sees the chips on the table in front of me.

"Hi boys." I speak quiet, just loud enough for them to hear me.

Louis doesn't respond. I stay put in my seat as I observe the two of them sliding into their chairs and Niall beginning to pick on some chips. I laugh a little on the inside, since it is his first action. I don't mind, I did buy it for them anyways, so he should be eating them.