In Real Life.

Thirty.

I stepped foot into the new apartment, which was in the same complex as all the boys' flat. I wasn't quite used to referring to an apartment as a flat, damn British lingo, but I was determined to become a Londoner.  

The apartment was quite large, with three bedrooms and two bath. The master bedroom was surprisingly larger than my one at home, and I knew the boys had something to do with getting me such a great deal on the place, though they all denied it.  I had landed in London only yesterday and had spent the night with the boys, resting up for a busy day in my new home.  

Tigger meowed loudly as he snaked through my legs and wandered around the living room, sniffing at the cans of paint littering the hardwood floor. A fireplace faced me from the opposite wall, a small carpet in front of it. The floors of the bedrooms were carpeted and the bathrooms were an elegant tan tile. Two large windows provided natural light to the wide floor plan. One side of the room openly led into the dining room, which was in turned connected to a sophisticated kitchen with dark granite counter tops, stainless steel appliances, and a large island in the center. The kitchen floor itself was a dark tile which contrasted well with the slightly red wood of the cabinets. 

"Alright, where to start," I asked myself, hands balled into fists and perched on my hip bones. I had long lost sight of the exploring Tigger. 

"Painting would be a good idea," a heavily accented voice rumbled and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Turning on my heel, I felt a grin stretch across my face as I took in the sight of Niall. He was clad in a loose white tee shirt, dark wash jeans, a red hat pulled taught over his abundance of blond locks, and blue Supras. He pulled his hat off and shook out his hair. 

"Way to knock, Niall," I teased as I turned back around, eyeing the cans of paint littering the perimeter of the fireplace. 

"The door was wide open and you were talking to yourself babe," he reminded me and I sneered as I mocked him silently. The sneer slipped into a smile as I felt Niall's arms encircle around my waist, and I wrapped my arms over them, wanting them to hold me tighter. 

"Where are the boys," I asked casually, knowing they usually stuck together, like a pack of llamas or something. 

"They went out to buy things for your welcoming party," he shrugged and rested his chin on my shoulder. 

"Party," I questioned as I turned my head to face him. He blew at a lock of fiery red hair which had unleashed itself from behind my ear. Even I wasn't quite used to my hair, and when I first dyed it I thought a stranger was looking back at me in the mirror. 

"Oh. It was supposed to be a surprise. Woops," he chuckled and I laughed lightly, still waiting for him to explain. 

"We're just going to throw you a little party, invite some people over to officially welcome you to London." 

"Oh," I answered thoughtfully turning my head to gaze back at Tigger who was sitting on top of a paint can like it was his throne. 

"Yeah, I wanted to come spend time with you." 

"Really?" "Well they kinda didn't let me go because they said I'd eat all the party snacks before we even left the store." At this I laughed, knowing it was completely true. Niall was like a bottomless vacuum when it came to food. 

"Thanks, I feel loved," I joked and began to pull away. Before I could even get out of Niall's grip he gently pulled me back, spinning me as he planted a firm but sweet kiss on my lips. I felt as if I was melting into him, my arms gently cupping his face as one of his arms pressed against the small of my back and the other rested against the nape of my neck. His fingertips gently pressed into my hair, giving me goosebumps all over. Finally and unfortunately we pulled away, and I flicked his nose gently. Licking my lips, I tasted a faint hint of cotton candy, which was intriguing and odd. 

"There won't be any alcohol right," I asked unsurely. The boys knew my position on alcohol, but I also knew boys would be young, rambunctious boys. 

"Probably, but I won't drink," he answered and I pulled a little further away, taking a minute step backwards. Niall, however, easily took notice and frowned as he stepped closer. 

"Niall," I protested, beginning to feel agitation nip at my heels. "Baby, it's not a big deal. Nothing will happen, I'll be there to protect you." 

"Not a big deal," my words were beyond dangerous and I could almost literally see Niall backtrack as he realized what he had said. 

"I didn't mean it like that. If it matters to you it is a big deal. I'll tell them to not get the alcohol, or to at least not use it tonight, alright princess," Niall practically begged, and I couldn't help but relent under his baby blue stare. His hands reached out feebly and I fell into his embrace, glad for the return of his body and wonderful scent. 

"Thanks babe. And I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't try to stop you or the boys from drinking. You're young and deserve to live a little. It's just... Alcohol makes me anxious and that's not how I wanted to spend my second day in London," I explained as the guilt began to dawn on me. Niall really was just trying to make me happy, after all. 

"Don't ever be sorry, Aleena. I love you, and you being happy is more important than having a pint. Now come on, let's paint," he chuckled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me to the dreaded paint cans.