In Other Words (Niall Fanfic)

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight 

Roxy’s POV

The taxi pulls up the curb in front of the restaurant, which is quaint and unassuming. Niall jumps out and offers a hand, which he keeps a grasp of even after I am out of the car. “I hope you’re hungry.” He says as we head in the front door. It’s pretty clear from the moment we walk in that either Niall has done a lot of planning, or he comes here quite often. He addresses the hostess by name, and she shows him to a booth in the back corner.  The kitchen is open so the patrons can watch the food being prepared, and as we pass the cooks’ line, Niall peers through to give each cook a hello.

The waitress approaches, and Niall introduces us. Her name’s Marisa. “Pint of Harp, Niall?” she asks. “You got it, love.” He replies and looks to me. “You can’t seriously be thinking of drinking Irish beer.” I razz him. “I’ll have a Peroni and a glass of water, please.” I say to her. “Fine.” He says with a sigh. “bring me something a little more authentic, ‘Risa.”

Niall’s POV

I sit in silence for a few moments as Roxy peruses the menu. I, of course, already know what I’ll be having. I come to this restaurant every couple of weeks, so I’ve probably had each dish at least once. The ravioli though, I’ve had that at least a dozen times. I am loyal to Mama’s, because they are loyal to me. No one has ever asked for autograph, or to take a photo. I almost feel guilty depriving them of the business they could be churning if they did pimp me out. Instead, I eat in often, I tip well, and I have them cater as many events as I can talk the Label into allowing.

She’s deep in thought and hasn’t yet noticed I’m watching her. Her green eyes are darting around the page, and she’s obviously weighing her options. “It isn’t polite to stare.” She says without lifting her gaze. “I couldn’t help myself.” I replied.  She lifted the menu up a bit higher, but not fast enough to keep me from noticing the color in her cheeks.

 “Howsa bout a starter? The bruschetta here is amazing.” I said

“Hmm. I’m in between the bruschetta and the calamari. You choose.” She said as she put down the menu and placed her hands in her lap.

“I haven’t had calamari in ages, and none of the lads will ever order it with me. Let’s do that.” I say aloud as Marisa returns with our drinks. It’s suddenly strange to be sitting here with Roxy, a girl I hardly know in reality, but feel as if I’ve known for ages. I can’t recall that I’ve ever brought a girl to this restaurant on a date, and I am willing to bet the staff has taken note that I’m on one tonight. Hopefully, they’re pulling for me.

“Let’s play a little Getting to Know You, shall we?” I say to Roxy after taking a sip of my non-Irish beer.

“Okay. But I haven’t prepared any questions…”

“It’ll be off the cuff. I will start. How old are you?”

“Wow”. She paused for a few moments. “Every other date I’ve ever been on, we were already friends on Facebook, so there was no need for this preliminary sort of stuff. This is just so weird. Okay. I’m twenty-three.” She said. “And I’d ask how old you are, but of course I already know that you’re twenty-one. Am I a creepy old lady?” she asked.

“Nah. I don’t blame ya for being keen about me.” I said with a wink. “Plus, I am an old soul. What brings you to London?”

Roxy’s POV

I took a sip of water to pause and formulate an answer. “I wish I could make this sound less boring than it is. You’re a…well…you’re you. You’ve seen the world.” I said tentatively. “Just answer the question. I won’t fall asleep, I promise. We’ve got food on the way.” He said.