Paper Houses **N.H**

Chapter 6

Evelyn's POV-

When I went downstairs the next morning, I was surprised to see my dad talking to Mr. Horan in my living room.

"Hey..." I said slowly. "What's up?"

"Good morning, Honey" my dad smiled. "Bobby just came over to watch some golf with me"

"Do you still want me to work on the kitchen today?" I looked at Niall's dad.

"Yeah, if you can" he answered. "I think Niall's got everything ready"

"Alright" I started to walk toward the door to go ahead and get my job out of the way so I could work on my own painting some more.

"Are you guys getting along alright?" my dad asked, making me stop with my hand on the door knob.

"What do you mean?" I turned around, slightly confused.

"Are you guys getting to know each other?" he clarified.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess" 

"If you need anything, he'll be over there" Mr. Horan told me.

"OK" I turned back to the door and pulled it open, the small creak filtering through my ear.

I closed it behind me, not locking it since my dad was home, then I walked through the damp grass over to the yellow house. Softly, I tapped on the door, and Niall quickly opened it for me, stepping aside so I could come in.

"No shoes?" he asked curiously.

"No shoes" I stated.

"You're going to end up having to get your leg cut off if you keep that up" he smirked.

"That's too bad" I sort of sing songed passing him and heading towards the kitchen.

He was trailing at my heels behind me. "I got everything wrapped up, the counters and stuff. I moved the coffee maker to the table, so if you want any, feel free to have some"

I glanced over at him, not saying anything, then bent down to open the can of paint.

"What day are you painting my room?" he asked. 

"I can do that tomorrow if you want before I do the rest of the upstairs" popping off the lid of the paint, I picked up the roller and slid is through the pan. "Why?"

"I just need to get some stuff put away" he shrugged, moving his hands to his pockets.

"Your music?" I asked curiously.

"Yeah, that kind of stuff"

"Are your lyrics that personal?" I wondered curiously.

"They are" he nodded, then quickly changed the subject. "It seems our dads have become good friends, huh?"

I walked carefully up the ladder and began to roll the paint onto the wall. "It looks like it"

"How do you feel about that?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, about them hanging out a lot, I guess? I don't know, my dad doesn't have a lot of friends, it just different for me. I'm not used to seeing him like that"

"Yeah" I agreed. "My dad doesn't have a lot of friends either. My mom left years a go, and ever since he's been a recluse. I think he's happy though, having your dad over there"

"My parents separated, too" he sighed. "I think my dad has felt generally lonely, hasn't tried to remarry, or anything"

"How would you feel if he did?" I wondered, continuing working on my project.