Prove Me Wrong

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Disclaimer: The boys are not mine. 

Note: This work is unbeta'ed. Please pardon any mistake, grammar- or construction-wise. And also, please be kind. This is the first story i'm putting up. :) 

The first thing he did when he saw Zayn Malik heading the opposite way was, well, try not to have a panic attack. Or faint. Or barf.The second thing he did was regain some composure after he almost choked on his own saliva.The third, he picked up his jaw from where it fell on the road.    

A few seconds before the inevitable ‘collision’, Niall congratulated himself from successfully affecting a mostly, hopefully disinterested composure. From where he summoned the ability to do that, he had no idea.

Because when it comes to the Art of Not Fainting, Flinching, or Swooning at the Sight of Zayn Malik, he’s a total failure. A disaster. A botch.

He’s like a magnet for catastrophe and extremely mortifying occurrences whenever Zayn or Zayn’s shadow was in the vicinity.

When they were in school, the numerous times he banged his head on his locker just because he heard Zayn’s voice coming from behind him lost its entertainment value (because his best friends thought it was funny. He didn’t share the sentiment.) around the tenth time it happened. Twice, he totally missed the doorway because he got distracted when Zayn passed by. Suffice it to say his nose and head took massive damage—which happens when you collide with a wall. Made from cement.

Also, he remembers simultaneously missing the ball and tripping while he was playing football with Louis and Harry and their other mates in the field that one time. He was having a grand time, actually, because he’s been making goal after goal and his team was winning. He was about to take that winning shot when he saw Zayn in his peripheral vision and suddenly, he lost all control of his hands and legs and the next thing he knew, he was on an awkward position on the ground, his stomach on the football ball and it hurt a ton but it was so much more humiliating than painful and he wanted to die right there.

Niall didn’t even want to remember that time he unwittingly started a food fight that had him landing in detention for a month.     

God. He could write a book on all the mortifying effects of Zayn’s presence on his motor skills.

As the distance between them shortens, Niall frantically began mentally browsing through his arsenal of anti-social tactics.  At the last moment, he decided that the strategy best employed in this situation is the look-staight-ahead-and-pretend-you’re-not-seeing-the-person-you’re-totally-seeing. Because he was so sure that would work.

Especially with Zayn. Who must hate him. Loathe him, even. So, really, there’s no reason to acknowledge each other’s existence. Ever.    

After the impact, however, the blonde realized he shouldn’t have unnecessarily overworked his brain nor bothered with the acting at all.

Because apparently, Zayn had other plans.

Like hugging him in the middle of the street, whispering God, it’s so great to see you (which shouldn’t have made him shiver but did). Not to mention, insisting that they catch up somewhere. Right now. Because Zayn wanted to talk about who knows what. And Niall almost agreed but refused at the last minute because there’s this lingering worry in his mind that Zayn’s only baiting and was still just waiting for the right time to punch him. In the end, though, Zayn was able to bully him into giving his number, which he gave after an internal struggle that went on like: should I give him my number? Yes. But what if he’s just being polite? Then don’t. But what if he really wants it? Like, for real? Then give it. But what if he gives it to everyone he knows to text torture me? Give a fake one. But what if he calls and I gave a fake number? He’ll call and call and no one will ever answer because it isn’t real… Just fucking give him a number, Niall.

Later at work, while he was desperately trying to concentrate on sorting out the books that just came in, Niall’s phone rang and didn’t nearly give him a heart attack. Okay, it did. But as he fumbled to answer it, he was greeted by Louis’ irate voice that told him to Stay away from the chocolate chip cookies, Niall or I’ll really kick you out. For real.

He promised to replace the box of cookies (which Louis labeled with his name like it would deter a hungry Niall) he devoured that morning and went back to cataloguing. And to thoughts of Zayn.

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