Call Me Ella (ft. Niall Horan)

Chapter 3 - Moth Guy

Chapter 3 - Moth Guy

When I go into the next room I make sure to exclaim loud and clear “cleaning service” so in case there’s someone inside, I can leave immediately. I also hang something from the doorknob and pray no one will come and find me cleaning the toilet again. This room doesn’t make me want to cry. It’s messy but it doesn’t look like a tornado had a party inside, so I’m okay. I start by making the bed and picking up the clothes and folding them. I’m in the middle of my task when the bathroom door opens and I curse the seven circles of hell for my luck.

Seriously? There had to be another boybander in the room? At least this one didn’t find me cleaning the toilet.

I look up and I find the curly-haired one, Harry, stepping out of the bathroom with his curls dropping water and just a towel wrapped around his hips.

Okay, let me put this straight. The guy is hot, no one can deny that, and the drops slowly sliding down his body don’t look bad on him. He has all his muscles defined and in any other situation I would’ve started drooling, but this guy is covered in tattoos. Don’t get me wrong, I think tattoos are hot and some men look even better with some on, but this guy doesn’t look like a tattooed man, this one looks as if a baby grabbed a sharpie and started to doodle on him.

“Oh hi!” He says with a wide smile that starts to turn cocky when he realises I’m staring at his half-naked body. “Like what you see?”

And that’s when I lose it. I can’t help it. I swear I try but this is bigger than me. I burst out laughing right there, in his face. I swear I have manners and this is not normal in me, but this guy… I can’t. I just can’t. Someone save me.

“You have a moth on your stomach,” I blurt out, still laughing, covering my mouth so I can control the fits of laughter.

He looks taken aback and then he looks at his torso. “It’s a butterfly,” he clarifies and I laugh even harder. He looks so shocked that he can’t be offended.

“That doesn’t make it better. Oh my God!” I exclaim still laughing like a hyena. The boy has an amazing body and he is really hot, but that tattoo —that one among all the other doodles— is a major turn-off if you ask me. “It’s a very shitty butterfly ‘cos it looks like a moth to me.”

He blinks surprised and I try to look away but the moth is calling me. I can’t stop it. It’s in the middle of his torso. You can’t ignore it, for crying out loud! And it’s big, so big!

“It’s not nice to laugh at other’s tattoos,” he pouts and I press my lips together tightly, trying to regain composure. I look in another direction because if I see the moth again I’ll end up crying.

“I’m sorry but those don’t look like tattoos. At least not all of them. Are you sure it’s not sharpie?” Oh my God, I shouldn’t be saying these things.

“I reckon some are silly but I— well…”

“I’m sorry,” I say but I still can’t look him in the eyes and I’m still trying not to laugh. “I’m really sorry, please don’t tell Rhonda about this,” I tell him because if he reports my behaviour I’ll get in so much trouble. “I’m really sorry.”

I see for the corner of my eye that he is staring at me and I can see how the smile returns to his lips. “I’m Harry,” he says taking a step closer but I take one backwards.

“Ella, and you should wear a tee or something so I can look at you again without bursting out laughing,” I suggest and he laughs.

I’m impressed he is not mad at me for laughing at his face. I know most celebrities are very sensitive about their images and I bet no one else in this retreat would’ve reacted that way. He must be one understanding and relax guy. Ten points for Hufflepuff!