The Lucky Pick // One Direction

Chapter 39

  Megan Watson's POV

The day after coming back from Holmes Chapel, I walk towards my apartment, looking at my phone with my eyebrows furrowed, before putting it back into my jeans pocket and unlocking the door, stepping inside.

I kick off my shoes and raise an eyebrow when I hear faint noises from upstairs. Harry wasn't here, was he? Maybe he decided to come over while I left to buy groceries?

I walk up the stairs, and hear that the noises are coming from the television in my bedroom. I stand outside my bedroom, cautiously, although I know it's highly unlikely a stranger is going to come into my house and watch tele in my bedroom, before swinging the door open and becoming really surprised by who I see sitting at the edge of my bed.

"Oh my god, Niall!" I exclaim, and he grins, holding out his arms slightly and standing up as I run over to him, before giving him a hug.

"Ah, it's great to see you," he says, during the hug.

"You too," I say, pulling away from the hug, "I haven't seen you in, like.."

"A month," he finishes, laughing lightly.

"Wow, yeah," I murmur, before saying, "You know, you laugh at everything."

He chuckles, "No I don't."

"Just did." I grin.

"I don't laugh at everything," he continues, not giving up.

"How'd you even get in my house?" I ask bluntly and he laughs, and I raise my eyebrow in a way to say 'you just laughed' before asking, "Since when were you in London?"

"Harry told me you leave a key under your doormat, and I've actually been here for nearly a week. I've been here during the month as well, actually, just for a day or two each time, though," he explains, "Just haven't told you."

"Ah, I see." I nod. "Soo, whatcha wanna do?"

"Dunno." He shrugs. "Me and Harry -"

"Harry and I," I correct jokingly.

"No difference. Anyways, we leave at, I think, ten tonight or so. So we've got pretty much all day. Harry's coming over here in an hour or two. He had to meet with management," he explains.

"Oh." I nod, before a random idea pops into my head, "Stay there. Close your eyes."

"Huh?" He asks in complete confusion.

"Just do it. You'll see," I order, and he confusedly does as I ask.

I then walk behind him and stand up on my bed, taking a pillow in my hand. I creep towards him and then throw the pillow at his head.

He jerks his head around immediately, saying, "Megan!" before picking the pillow off the ground and throwing at me, as I laugh uncontrollably.

Let the pillow fight begin.

I shriek as it hits my head, before hitting him with it repeatedly, him picking up one of the other pillows and hitting me back.

When he hits me right in the face with the pillow, I say, "Oh, I'm soo gonna get you back!"

"Go ahead," he says, holding out his arms for me to hit him.

"Nope." I shake my head, hopping off the bed, and whispering in his ear, "I'll get you when you're not expecting it." I then do a weird dance thing and a freaked out expression creeps onto his face.

"You're so weird," he chuckles.

"You're so weird," I mimic him in an Irish accent, and he laughs. "But so are you," I say, "We both act like three year olds." We start to walk downstairs.