Getting in shape... with Liam Payne

Together, not, or what?

Alice’s P.O.V.

The next days were a dream. Liam would spontaneously call me or simply arrive at my doorstep and we would go out to dinners in mismatching places (one night we’d eat at an exclusive five-star restaurant and the next end up in some decrepit pizza-place where everything, from chairs to the mean waiters, was in a state of utter disrepair) and on fairytale walks in the park at sundown – the whole place practically empty and bathed in that surreal glow that only a setting sun can produce.  Both of us got to know each other bit by bit, one wacky detail, and weird habit at a time. It was a truly amazing experience, discovering Liam like that – even better than reading a book. But if I was to compare Liam to a book I’d say he was something of a cross between a thriller and a comedy – with sappy, romantic twists at the least expected moments. I never failed to amaze me how he could be so serious when talking about his passion for boxing and how he was determined to take over his father’s company in the future. His cheeks would flush with ambition and I could almost see little specks of flame in his magnificent eyes. Then, in a matter of seconds, he could switch into a cheeky weirdo who said things like:

“Alice, love, I have a confession to make. Please do not resent me for this.” he told me during one of those spontaneous dinner-dates. We were just sitting at a scrawny, wooden table at the back of a tiny Italian restaurant that we found purely by accident when walking down Tetterhall Road. The friendly-looking plump of a waiter just finished taking our orders and I was staring out one of the small, dirty windows when Liam surprised me with this statement. For a second I was scarred he’ll say something like “I’m leaving to Australia tomorrow.” or “I’m married and a father or two children.” because of how completely serious his face was.

“Liam what are you talking about?” I asked trying to keep the panic from surfacing and making my voice crack. However, I relaxed a little when that adorable saucy smirk of his crossed his face.

“I have this one wacky fear. Phobia, actually. I’m uumm… I’m scared of spoons. I dunno why, really. They’re just so… spoony.” He finished his little explanation with the cutest ghost impression I have ever heard or seen. Liam’s confession caused me to let out a giggle which I tried to stifle but the look of embarrassment on his face made such attempts virtually impossible.

“Spoons? Oh baby! You are just too cute!” I giggled, reaching my hand over the table to squeeze one of his cheeks like annoying aunties would do to their ten-year-old nephews. That’s when he’d make one of those unexpected romantic gestures and remove my hand from his cheek in order to kiss it.

Besides going out to this mix of quirky and expensive places Liam called me on a daily basis. In fact he’d sometimes call up to four times a day.  Not to mentions his adorable goodnight texts that I received every single evening without fail. Our conversations went something like this: I’d be finishing breakfast when the phone would ring and mum would give me her ‘teenagers-these-days’ look because she already knew who was calling.

“Hi Liam, how are you doing?” I’d chirp sweetly into my mobile.

“Much better now that I’m hearing your voice, babe. Did you have a tasty breakfast? Got any plans for today?” Liam’s sexy, husky voice would reply.

And we’d talk like that for hours on end, until my mouth was dry from talking, cheeks ached from smiling and my arm was still from holing the phone for so long.  About two weeks into our relationship, during one of those heavenly phone calls, at just about that point when my mum was getting annoyed with me (no wonder – it was half past twelve and I was still sitting in my PJ’s, hair undone with the dirty breakfast plate and a cup of; now cold; coffee twirling a lock of hair and twittering away) Liam declared he shall be taking me to the cinema to see all the three Toy Story movies today afternoon.