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TWENTY ________
Noelle
"And how the bloody hell did ya get yer' hands on a Harley Davidson shirt?" Niall laughed, re-entering the kitchen as he looked down on himself.
The intense chocolate meltdown resulted into a mess to the point that I had insisted Niall to take a shower and lend him an oversized shirt to fit on him for the night. Since, obviously, the one he wore was completely stained.
Drying the tips of my damp, chocolate tinted hair on the kitchen sink, I eyed Niall wearing a Harley Davidson shirt. The shirt always fitted me loose for years, so seeing him wear it made me realize it was always destined for him.
"It's my dad's. Well, was. Now it's yours." I laughed, admiring the fit. "It looks great on you."
"I know." Niall smiled, "No wonder it fits me right..."
I can see his eyes look around the now, squeaky-clean kitchen. The batch of almost burnt cupcakes sitting nicely above the stove.
"Ya cleaned up the place real quick. You should've waited for me to help you, ya know?"
"Oh, it's fine. You're the guest here." I reminded. "There's no reason for you to do any more work than the mess you caused." I joked.
Niall ran his hands through his damp brown hair and chuckled.
It wasn't a secret that I crushed on Niall Horan since forever. I fell for a blonde man years ago, so seeing myself confront the same man, but with brown hair felt like growth. He looked so good with both.
"You aimed pretty well at my hair. Got me smellin' like chocolate." He ruffled.
I admired him from afar, "Well, good thing you're not blonde. The brown really camouflages with the chocolate." I joked.
"Did ya like me blonde?" Niall asked out the blue.
I froze for a moment at the question and gulped, knowing that it was never really up to discussion to ever speak about the past. Well, for me. It felt weird.
"W-What?" I forced.
"Yeh...I mean, you were there when I was blonde, as ya claimed. Just wonderin' your opinion on the hair change. It must've been drastic for ya." Niall teased.
I felt like he was doing this on purpose. Teasing me over my past support tabs I've had and getting curious on what I felt when I was younger towards him.
"I, uh," I can feel my hands dig under the counter railing, trying to pretend like this wasn't intimidating me. "Well, you look good in any hair color...yeah, I liked blonde, but brown is better. Can't really picture you blonde anymore."
