One Direction-Imagines

Guilty

You fling your feet out from under the warmth of the hotel bed’s blanket only to screech in pain as something cracks underneath them.

From the bathroom, comes Niall’s voice, “Hey, ya alright out there?”

With a look at your foot, you find at least that you are not cut or bleeding. Then you lean off the bed to figure out what you just crushed.

Oh shit.

You pick up the sunglasses. It’s not too bad, the lenses are still in tact, hell, most of the pair is fine. Except one of the ear pieces has snapped off. For a few moments, you attempt to fit it back on, but you realize soon enough that they are beyond any repair you could make.

"Uh, I’m fine!" you yell at Niall while you debate where to hide the body sunglasses.

You end up shoving them into the drawer of the little nightstand on your side of the bed. Then you hide right back under the covers.

The water shuts off in the bathroom and Niall emerges, freshley showered, dressed in a white tee and jeans, his lips brightly pink from the effort of brushing his teeth. He regards you with two raised eyebrows and you are very sure that you look like you were caught doing something naughty. Of course, this immediately leads to him grinning and for once you’re thankful that “naughty” turns his mind to very different places.

"Ya gonna get up and get dressed or anythin’?" he teases, plopping down beside your legs and leaning over the bed to find his shoes. The two of you are staying in a rather nice suite, but while you’d taken the time to hang up some of your clothes in the closet, all of Niall’s stuff is still hanging out of his suitcase.

"Nah, I think I’ll stay in bed all day," you say with a nervous laugh.

Niall’s lips twitch up in a smirk, “Shame I can’t be doin’ that with ya.”

"I know," you say, drawing the words out with a sigh and an exaggerated pout. And, broken eyewear aside, you really are sad that he can’t, even though you both plan to enjoy the nightlife when he gets back from his band obligations. Hell, you don’t even mind if you end up spending the time out with everyone so long as you’re with Niall.

Without warning, Niall’s reaching out for you, taking you by the sleeve of your nightshirt and pulling you in to kiss hard on the mouth. He tastes pleasant and minty, tongue licking at your mouth and meeting yours. You can’t help but let out a little groan; Niall’s just got this way of melting your insides until all you can think about is wanting him.

That is, until he leans back, and with an obviously random thought, asks, “Have you seen my sunglasses?”

You gulp, the thought like a bucket of cold water down your back. Quickly, face flushed, you answer, “Um, nope. Where did you take them off yesterday?”

Absently, he kisses you one more time, before petting gently on your hair and letting you go. Niall slips on his socks before standing up to look around the carpet and the bed. “I thought I put ‘em on the table there last night,” he says, scratching through his hair. As he contemplates where else they might have gotten to, oblivious to your guilty conscience, he makes absent little faces.

"Maybe they fell? They could be under the bed." You slip your feet out from under the covers for a second time, although this time you actually stand up and pretend to help him look around. You even kneel by the bed to pretend to look under it. Yes, you’re an amazing actress.

"Maybe." He doesn’t look convinced and you blanch when he thinks to go through the drawers on the table by the side of his bed. Of course, you know there’s nothing in those.

Sure that you can play it off, you dip your hand quickly into the drawer and pretend you’d scooped the glasses up from the floor when Niall turns at the sound of your movement.

"Oh no!" you gasp, perhaps a little too theatrically. "Look!" Cringing, you hold out the broken sunglasses to him.

"Ah, dammit! How the hell’d this happen?!" He takes them from you - not exactly gently, but thankfully not yanking either - and looks them over. For a few seconds, he imitates what you’d done, the pieces clicking and clacking as he attempts to put them back together. "Dammit, that was my best pair," he grouses, when he has no luck.

You feel really awful for breaking them - but it was an accident! - though you don’t tell him either way. “Well, it… we can find you another, right? Didn’t you bring anymore with you.”

"Me best pair!" he cries, waving the lenses by the only ear piece still attached. He’s not really raging at you though, huffing when they don’t magically stick back together. "They don’t sell ‘em here, I’ll have to wait ‘til I can go back where I got ‘em."

You blink awkwardly, but then just nod your head, “Okay, so others?”

He gives you a face that is very much grumpy puppy and you crumble for no good reason.

"Okay, I’m sorry! I broke them!"

His eyes go wide. “What would ya do that for?!”

"It was on accident! They must have fallen in the floor last night and when I tried to get up a little while ago, I stepped on them."

You’re not a hundred percent sure that he isn’t mad when he says, “Well ya could’a told me instead of lettin’ me look around like an idiot.”

You pout at him, the hugest one you can make and still look pitiful rather than dumb. “I didn’t want you to be mad at me.”

That seems to startle him and he crawls across the bed until he reaches your side again and pulls you unexpectedly down into it with him. “Mad at ya?” he wonders, crowding close while you get comfortable and continue to look at him like someone kicked your kitten. “Well, I’m mad me glasses are trashed, but… I ain’t mad at you for it. It was an accident.” You can tell he means it, even if it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself a little.

"Promise?"

"Promise," he says, giving you a reassuring grin. "They’re my best pair o’ glasses, but you’re me best girl and no plastic competes with that."