On Thin Ice (Niall Horan)

Chapter Four

Last boring chapter, I promise! Dedicated to Kenz for being a really amazing friend from the moment I met her. c:

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"I'M NOT EVEN allowed to drink yet, Logan,” I said, standing up and trailing him into the kitchen like a lost puppy. “Why on Earth would I have any alcohol if I’m not allowed to drink yet?” I folded my arms across my chest in artificial anger as Logan rifled through my cabinets in search of what he called ‘a half-decent purchase of alcohol’ that his own apartment seemed to currently lack. “And aren’t you supposed to be working the radio station? It’s your shift right now, isn’t it?” My eyes flickered to the clock on the wall and then back to Logan’s form, frozen in front of the dishwasher.

He relaxed a moment later, replying, “Angie’s covering me until your turn starts. I took care of her dog while she was in Peru, so she owes me. You’re just jealous that you didn’t think of offering to take care of Mocha or get her owner to pay you back by working your job.”

“For a twenty-seven-year-old man, you’re acting like quite the child,” I replied with narrowed eyes, before slipping from the kitchen and taking a seat beside Emily. 

“You could be an underage alcoholic,” Emily suggested thoughtfully, pulling her legs up and folding them Indian-style on the couch. “Granted, I rather doubt that. You’re so damn serious all the time and you’re such a rule-follower.” Though her voice was teasing, I couldn’t help but be slightly offended at her words. “I’m just joking, Elle.”

Logan took a seat in one of the chairs beside the couch Emily and I shared, a glass of water in his hand. At Emily’s inquisitive glance - even from his vantage point, I could have sworn it would be impossible to miss the flush spreading across her cheeks - he said, “It was the closest thing to alcohol she had.”

“That’s because I’m fucking underage!”

Both friends waved away my fury and Logan took a sip of his unfortunately non-alcoholic water. We were seated in silence for a few minutes until I snatched up the remote and flicked to a Hallmark Christmas movie. Logan groaned loudly, setting down his water and massaging his temples as though the sight of snow and a Christmas tree gave him the most unbearable migraine (or perhaps it was just the absence of his beloved Merlot). 

“Thanksgiving was three days ago,” he complained, “we should be having Thanksgiving specials instead of these crappy Christmas ones. I’m tired of this inspirational Christmas angel shit they played last year.”

“Maybe that’s what you need,” Emily suggested, batting her eyelashes playfully, “an inspirational Christmas angel.”

Logan and I both snorted. I was amazed how oblivious Logan was to the flush that spread across Emily’s cheeks, the way it had nothing to do with her imitation of an inspirational Christmas angel or anything of the sort. His face was still screwed up with laughter even as the blush faded from Emily’s cheeks, replaced by a small smile. “I think an inspirational Christmas angel would be lovely, Emily,” he said, reaching over and pinching her cheek. “You could be my cherub and you will perch unclothed on top of my Christmas tree!”

“As if!”

We all laughed, settling down into a comfortable silence a few moments later. As Emily grabbed the television remote from my hands, I transferred my glance from the TV to the tall windows lining the wall of my apartment. Snow was still drifting down at the same pace it had all those hours ago - speaking of, Emily had nearly forgotten her homosexual ex-boyfriend by now, and I was not going to be the one to bring him up - in a leisurely sort of way, just drifting, thrown this way and that by the gentle breeze. A light coating of it still dusted my window and windowsill, painting the world outside a bright white.