Just By Chance || Niall Horan (2)

Chapter 6.

• Six : I love you, a lot •

✨September 24th 2017;

I awaken in bed as a set of arms hold me tighter, a soft kiss being placed to my forehead. I hum, exhausted, and snuggle closer to his chest, cuddling my head into his neck. "What time is it?" I mumble, sleepily.

I feel his body tilt to the side as he reaches his arm backwards to grab his phone from his locker. I hear the soft click of his finger hitting the home button of his IPhone. "It's only quatre past eight, baby, go back to sleep," he kisses the top of my head yet again. It was a long night to say the least. A long, but perfect night.

"I'm awake now," I tell him, quietly, staying entangled with his body, the heat radiating from his body making me extremely warm and cosy. "Do you want breakfast?" I ask, pulling away, a yawn escaping my throat. (I yawned as I wrote this. Yawned again as o read over this. Yawned again.)

"Woah, woah, woah," he grabs my waist as I go to get out of bed. "You think after last night you're just gonna leave me in bed to make me breakfast?" I chuckle, leaning in to peck his lips.

"Last night was perfect," I mumble again his lips. "I'm glad it was you."

"I'm pretty glad it was me, too. Did I hurt you?" He asks, eyes full or concern and love.

"My lower region is quite sore, but it was technically like the first time all over again, so we both knew that was expected. You were gentle, and loving. I promise I'm fine," I assure him.

"You know, it had been a year and a half for me. Can we say it was my first time too? 'Cause last night was so much better than a meaningless fuck. It felt so much better knowing I was making love to my girl," I blush. (I seriously cringe at that phrase. 'Making love'. Ugh. I can't stand it. Anyone else or just me?)

"I thought the morning after would be awkward," I admit. "I don't know, just thinking about what we done, I just thought it would be awkward, but it's not. Here we are talking about it, lying naked in your bed, and I feel as comfortable as ever," he nods.

"I understand why you would think so, but never feel awkward around me," he tells me.

"For a while I thought about doing it with you, and then I'd always put it out of mind because I feared that maybe you'd wake up and regret it; maybe you'd wake up and regret me," I look him in the eyes, asking in the gentlest tone ever, "do you regret it, or me? Honestly?"

He looks baffled. Stupefied. As if he's trying to find the rights words in this moment but just can't. He looks as if the question I just asked was that of something that made no sense whatsoever, as if it was a sin to ask such a question.

"What I regret is not finding you sooner and letting you be my first," he tells me. "Last night was amazing, baby. I don't regret it, or you. In fact, if I could, I'd do it again right now, but we'll leave it awhile, don't wanna hurt you anymore than you are."

I smile at his answer, getting out of the bed and grabbing his t-shirt off the floor, slipping it over my head. "Seriously though, Ni, do you want breakfast?"

He shakes his head, his eyes trailing from my head to my toes. He smirks at me, "how the fuck are you mine?" He grumbles to himself, a little loudly.