This Path Is Reckless

Five: Seafood and Croissants

Chapter Five

There’s a small diner right by the beach, boasting their specialities of freshly caught seafood. Niall bikes them over to the diner, me still dressed in Niall’s clothes. I’m not very surprised when Niall is friendly with the staff and the chef.  Of course Niall is friends with everyone; inside his tough punk exterior, Niall is as fluffy as a giant teddy tear that you want to cuddle in your sleep.

Niall tells me that the seafood platter here is to die or, so the two of us end up ordering it alongside prawn tempuras and salmon salad.  While we wait for the food to arrive, we chat about their lives.  It turns out that Niall was a top student in music and theatre classes. With his strong Irish accent and lyrical voice, I can easily imagine Niall singing a ballad or a pop rock song. By the time our food arrives, we have learnt so much more about each other.  Niall starts to nudge my foot with his, effectively commencing a footsie war. The waitress looks at us with a slight frown as she sets down the platter.  The tempuras and salad arrives shortly after.

“Oyster?” I quirk a brow as I examine the seafood platter.

The blond shrugs. “Fresh from the sea.”

I let that slide reluctantly; I’m too distracted by the way the wind (because they are sat outside) ruffles the dyed blond locks. I really want to have my fingers tangled up in Niall’s hair all day and all night if I could.

Realising that he has been staring at Niall for too long—again—Harry blushes.

“You’re real cute when you blush,” Niall comments.

Which only makes my cheeks burn hotter. “Thanks,” I mumble.

“And then when I compliment ya, ya blush even mumble or stumble over your words, which is even cuter.”

Dinner goes by in a conversation full of laughter and flushed cheeks. I insist on splitting the check again and Niall lets me.  As soon as the cheque is paid, I’m dragged out of and to a little French café across the street. The showcase is full of pastries and other little dessert items that look mouth-watering. It doesn’t come as a surprise when Niall orders about four different pastries and a large-sized herbal tea; I only order a tea and a cupcake.

“I really would love to know where all that food goes,” Harry wonders, poking at Niall’s flat stomach.

“Abs of steel, baby. And plus, I’m still a growing teenager,” Niall jokes.

“Sure, Nialler. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Niall, of course, finishes all of his dessert in less than ten minutes. I watch him go at it while he drinks is tea.

“Whatcha smilin’ at?” Niall queries.  He has managed to get a flake of croissant on his top lip.

“You’ve got a little—” I point at the flake.  How many times is this going to happen to me?

Niall flicks his tongue out, deliberately missing it. He pouts at makes a show of being annoyed.