Perfect || Niall Horan

|20|

“How am I supposed to get this off by tonight?” I ask him. His playful expression dropped and suddenly he realized that we had a major dilemma.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“What are you all upset over? You have professional makeup people who are trained to hide stuff on your face.”

“Not black sharpie,” he argues. I guess he had a point. I guess this all was just a bad idea…

“This is why you don’t leave me bored on a plane while you’re sleeping Niall. Gosh, see what you do?” I cross my arms and face the window. I could see him smiling in my peripheral vision.

“We’ll have to wash it off once we get to the hotel,” he reasons.

“Don’t all your little friends live in London? Why are we staying at a hotel?”

“No, actually. During break everyone went to stay with their families.”

I nod in understanding. The pilot then came on informing the plane’s passengers to remain in their seats as we would be landing soon.

Well, let me inform you that landing was not as pleasant as taking off, and I am not looking forward to doing it again when we return to Ireland.

Niall and I head to baggage claim, collecting our belongings. There was a guy holding a sign with Niall’s name on the front. He helped us with our bags and led us to a car that would drive us to our hotel. All of this was so new to me. Niall appeared as if he does this every day. The entire time people were giving us strange looks like we were freaks of nature. At first I didn’t know why, but then I remembered we had marker all over us. That explains things.

Upon arriving, Niall checked us in and handed me a key. The person at the front desk as well as the people in the lobby gave us the same looks as the people at the airport did. I grin and sprint for the elevator. He follows me, the door almost closing on him.

“Why in such a rush?” he asks.

“I want to wash my face. And jump on the beds,” I admit. He laughs. Soon enough, the doors open and I prance my way down the hall to the correct room. I slide in my key card and twist the handle, pushing the door open to reveal our room.

I guess you could say I was….surprised. I guess with the idea that Niall’s ‘famous’ I was expecting a bigger room. There was one bed, a mini kitchen, a couch, a balcony, and a tiny bathroom.

“So…I’m not sure how great your counting skills are,” I tell him. “But there are two of us and one bed.”

“I know. It’s just for one night. I knew that when I booked the room. Don’t worry, I’m sleeping on the pull out couch,” he assures, walking over and unfolding it from itself. It fell to the ground with a thump while we both stood back staring at it.

“No,” I say immediately judging off of the beds appearance. “That thing looks like the least comfortable contraption I’ve ever seen. You paid for the room, so you can sleep in the nice bed.”