Go With The Flow

Chapter 4; Part 2

This is a continuation from chapter 4 part 1. Picture of the dress to the side -------->

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I sat on the divan with my legs crossed, my white dress pulled down over my legs as far as it could go to keep my dignity. I bothered not to glance over as the cushion dipped in beside me, meaning someone had sat down. 

I didn't have to look over, because the person had taken me by the shoulder and pressed me against the back of the divan. I groaned as the familiar face of the rude brunette boy from before flashed in front of my eyes. He had a crooked smile that gave me strange chills. 

"Would you look at that?" he asked, pretending to be astounded by my face. I rolled my eyes. "It's miss Blondie." He leaned into my face. "So, the question on both of our lips is, 'What's miss Blondie gonna do?'" I reared back into the pillow, the stink of alcohol in his breath now. He had at least one or two drinks, because his voice was still level and he didn't seem tipsy enough to have had more. 

Before I could compose a witty response, the boy was tugged back away from me and landed on the ground on his butt. I laughed, "I guess I didn't have to do anything."

Niall swooped down in front of me and pushed his face right in front of the boy's, a cold look gracing his soft features. "Don't touch her. Don't talk to her. Hell, don't even look at Evelyn, because she's way too good for the likes of you. Now leave her alone."

I watched dumfounded as the boy scrambled away, sure to leave me in peace the rest of the night. I let out a sigh of relief. 

"Sorry about that," Niall apologized. "That was the second time I saw him all up in your business and it was really bugging me." He gave me a smile. I returned it. 

"It's alright. Actually, thanks. He nearly made me heave his breath smelled so bad." Niall turned away from me momentarily before turning back. 

"That probably means my breath smells bad, too," he admitted sheepishly. "I've had more than a little to drink. But don't worry. Not so much that I can't see two feet from my face." He sat beside me and placed a hand atop mine. 

I bit my lip and looked down at our entwined fingers, a fluttery feeling passing through my stomach. It was weird: I had never felt that feeling around Niall before. I found myself staring into his deep blue orbs and admiring the lines of his slender face and frame, eyes tracing over his golden locks infused with his dark roots. That night he was wearing a plaid button-down shirt over a white tee and a pair of jeans. The cuffs of his sleeves were rolled up three-quarter's length. 

It took me a few seconds to realize that Niall was leaning toward me ever so slowly. I glanced back down at my small hand in his, then up at his cute face, then back down to our hands. It felt so insanely wrong to do something like this after not seeing him in months, but I had known him for a year and we were good enough friends that it wasn't like kissing a stranger. 

Again that fluttery feeling came back, and as he got closer, erupted into flipping. My throat restricted when I felt his cool, acrid breath on my lips. My eyelids involuntarily fluttered closed, and I leaned back against the divan as his soft lips pushed against mine. 

Oh, what was this horrible feeling I had?

The kiss was so nice and soft and beautiful, but it felt wrong and perfectly right at the same time. I felt as though I was going to faint as his hand cupped my face. 

Then it all ended as quickly as it had started. 

A hand grabbed my arm and yanked me away from Niall, which caused a line of drool to run down my chin, partly mine, partly his. I wiped it off and looked at the offender.