In Other Words (Niall Fanfic)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three 

Roxy’s POV

He was out cold, a small snore escaping his mouth every fourth breath or so.  I wanted to just to lie there, awake and dreaming. My bladder said otherwise. I slipped out from under his arm padded into the bathroom, the tile cold beneath my feet, which danced about for a moment as I squirted the toothpaste onto the bristles and popped the toothbrush into my mouth before reaching to shimmy off my bottoms. Always multi-tasking.

I glanced at Niall, who hadn’t moved a millimeter, before heading into the kitchen. Despite my tea addiction, I was craving a cup of strong coffee, like my dad always made in the middle of the afternoon. The stove fired up after three clicks and I set the kettle over the flame; the condensation gathering on the exterior before quickly evaporating.  Niall didn’t own a coffee pot, but I’d been managing the occasional cup of joe at his apartment by spooning the coarse grounds into a paper filter set inside a colander and pouring the boiling water through it and into my cup.

Inside the cabinet where the mugs were kept, there was a brown paper bag with his handwriting on the outside. Good Morning, Love. I paused for a moment, wondering if I had stumbled upon something I wasn’t meant to, but then pulled the bag out and unfolded the flap. Little shit knew full-well I’d be into that cupboard before he even woke up.   The items inside the bag clanged a bit against one another, despite the thick wrapping of newspaper, the words printed on it were definitely not English. I unwrapped carefully to find the silliest set of mugs I’d ever seen; a little his and hers pair. 

“That’s what we looked like during puberty, before braces.” He said from behind me, his voice still raspy and waking.  

“I never had braces.” I replied, leaving the mugs in favor of his touch. His arms wrapped around my shoulders. “But that’s exactly how I used to look.”

“You’ve turned out nicely.” He said into the top of my head. My arms squeezed tightly around his middle and I shifted my weight back and forth between my feet . “Missed ya.” He smiled.  He sat down at the table as the kettle sounded and I prepared two cups of coffee. He and Josh had an afternoon to kill, so they hopped on a bus not knowing where it would go. They got off the bus in a small village with only a few storefronts. Despite its size, there were a considerable amount of people there, although only a small fraction were obviously tourists. There was an old woman running a fruit stand in front of one of the shops , a mess of what he assumed to be her grandchildren running around, playing an elaborate game of tag. Niall and Josh bought a few items from her, and then went inside, to what turned out to be her daughter’s shop. She was a potter.

“So I spotted these mugs and knew I had to have them.” He explained. “They’re so us.”

“Hey, thanks!” I said, pretending to be offended.  I dumped three heaping spoons of sugar and nearly a quarter cup of cream into the larger of the two mugs, and handed it to him, leaving my cup black as night. He sipped it happily. “I can’t believe I’m dating a guy that takes his coffee like that.” I said into my cup.

“Believe it, baby.” He smirked. “Anyway, the lady is going to make a tea set for my mum; I’ll give it to her for Christmas or something. So, what did you do with all of your free time? How’s work?”He said, following me into the living area. I tucked myself into the corner of the couch and rested my mug atop my knee.

“It’s fine.” I offered. The truth was, it really wasn’t.

“Roxanne.” He said, his gaze narrowed.  I was never a woman of few words, so he picked up pretty quickly that something was amiss.

“Hmm?” I took a sip, stalling.  He waited patiently. “It’s not a big deal, babe.  I…it just seems like I’ve been spending a lot of my time at work talking about my personal life. My boss has been asking strange questions, and my position with the company is very…accessible. My phone is ringing….I feel like maybe I should take a less public role. Maybe do some grant writing or something.”  I looked up, half expecting him to still be sorting through my hurried words.