On The Other Side | Nick O'Malley

20 | wondrous place

I had awoken in his sheets, unfamiliar with that amount of happiness in my chest. Nick's arms were wrapped around me, holding me safely as his chest rose with each breath.

The crack of my weight on the wooden floor had woken him, but I'd managed to convince him to fall asleep again as I went in search of my shirt. A light sleeper, it seemed.

So naturally, the contrast with the reality outside hit me like a brick.

The strap of my purse slipped from my shoulder, its weight nearly causing me to clatter my phone on the ground. With a frustrated groan, I snatched it up for the hundredth time, fumbling with the device to check the time. Four minutes left.

I slowed down my pace when I saw a notification pop in and clicked on Nick's message.

Nick:
I'm an idiot for not driving
you, I hope you're not late

I immediately smiled, half-realising I had entered the coffee shop as my fingers enthusiastically typed my response.

me:
I didn't want to wake you in the
first place. I'm perfectly on time :)

"Good morning, you're late," Harry's voice called out.

I looked up from the screen, frowning at him as I made my way to the back room.

"For two minutes? You're being dramatic."

He might have said something else but I was already behind the door, insulting him under my breath. He was always pissing me off for no reason, but it seemed like he found one today.

I unlocked my phone again, reading the text Nick just sent.

Nick:
Come over to mine tonight? I'll
find a way to apologise properly

I mean cooking or whatever

A smirk tugged at my lips as the sound of my nails drumming against the screen echoed in the small room. The thought of him in my flat made my stomach flutter. I could already picture his frame taking up all the space on my tiny couch.

I also didn't want to intrude and make him think I was somewhat ashamed of where I lived. Or living a double life behind his back. So I proposed my place instead, added my address and pressed 'send' without thinking more.

I stuffed my phone back into my purse between the tangled wires of my earphones and the two or three chopsticks, wasting no time in putting my apron on. I shuffled to the small sink and splashed my sweating forehead with cold water. Strands of hair were flying everywhere. I combed my fingers through my locks and swept them into a messy ponytail.

When I came back behind the counter, Harry was silently opening the shutter. He glanced at my physical state, probably judging my poor choice of clothes. I brushed it off, doing everything in my power to keep that amount of serotonin in my body for as long as I could.

Turned out, keeping up with customers' orders is hard when your mind is completely elsewhere.

It was painfully loud and fast, and Harry had already complained about me three times since I started. That's why I wasn't surprised when he rolled his eyes as Julian made his way to the counter, his eyes down on his phone. He left a few customers ordering before him, and I knew he was waiting for a time to talk.

I ignored my colleague's infectious moodiness and stepped towards him, just as he settled on the further stool, away from the others.

"Hey there," I smiled, resting my palms on the surface.