Miss Terry [Niall Horan]

This Means War

A/N: Most of this story is from Niall's POV, unless I say so. Btw it's really hard trying to type quietly 'cause people are sleeping nearby...I'm nocturnal, okay?!

I tip-toed towards the sofa as softly as I could, keeping the camera pointing diagonally downwards in my hands. As soon as I got there, I had to stifle laughter, because Louis's nose was buried in Harry's curls where they lay in a mangled heap. Arms, legs and heads jutted out at abnormal angles, and it just made it all the more hilarious!

My finger hovered above the record button. Oh, I'm cruel, I thought as I clicked it. "AARGH!" I yelled, "Dog pile!"

"No, Nia-" Too late. Louis was shoved half-off the sofa with his legs kicking my arse and Harry's chest was pressed up against my face. "Niall, get the heck off of me!" Harry chuckled, his morning voice making his voice rasp. Suddenly, he stopped chuckling, and stared silently at the camera. I winked into the lens. "Why I oughta-" Harry wrestled me to the ground, punching me all over, so I tried rolling over . . . and ended up bringing Louis into the fight.

We were all scrabbling to get out of the knot we'd got ourselves tangled in when a Geordie accent chirped, "Well this is new!" My cheeks flushed as I spotted Perrie and Zayn smirking in the doorway with Prada, their arms linked. Prada interrupted the silence with a loud miaow before leaping away from the fiances and onto Louis's head. When Louis tried to brush her off, she clung on with her sharp claws, causing Louis to scream in pain. "Prada, get back here!" Perrie scolded, letting go of Zayn's arm.

"Get her off meee!" Louis squealed. He eventually managed to pull her off and she lay in a ball on the rug, where I stroked her.

"And film . . . finished," I declared, clicking the camera button.

Zayn gawked at me. "You were filming that?!" He seemed to admire my genius, which I found quite funny. "Jeez, Niall . . . dude, that's evil!"

"Oh, I realise," I chuckled proudly, messing up Harry's curls.

"Do you also realise that we've got about a billion songs to rehearse and a billion fan mail letters to look through?" Liam questioned, entering the room fully dressed (unlike the rest of us). "Come on, guys, get dressed!"

Louis was quick to reply in his most innocent tone with, "But we are dressed!" He gestured to his carrot onesie. "In pyjamas!" Liam aimed a cushion at his head, and soon we were all chucking them over the room- except Perrie, who was hiding behind Zayn and crossing her fingers that she wouldn't get noticed.

"ENOUGH!" someone roared from the door. The six of us all froze and swivelled on our toes to face Simon, whose arms were filled with possibly hundreds of envelopes. "Stop this mayhem right now and for goodness's sake, open these letters! They're everywhere!"

Now, imagine we were your average, gold-as-gold boy band. You know, the type who wear matching suits and dance in synch. We would have taken the weight of the envelopes off poor Simon's shoulders and carefully written replies to every single one, right? Well, we clearly aren't your average, gold-as-gold boy band. We're One Direction. So instead, Harry yelled, "Dog pile!" at the top of his lungs and we all proceeded to suffocate Simon under the weight of us all.

I know, right? We're such lovely boys!

A/N: Yeah, I know, it's utter crap, but I didn't want to rush the story now did I! And I so want a carrot onesie. :( But oh well!

Anyway, I hope you liked it!

Songbird xox