One Direction Imagines/Preferences :) (REQUESTS CLOSED)

Niall Imagine for @kkerin123

Niall Imagine for Katherine. Hope you like it! :)

Oh, and (Y/C/N) means (Your/Coworker's/Name).

**Katherine's P.O.V.**

"Thanks. Have a nice day!" I called out to the woman leaving the store. She hefted up her bag on one arm and waved slightly with her other, which was already dialing a number on her phone. I sighed and leaned against the counter, happy that was over.

"She was a pain?" my coworker guessed, coming up to me with a pile of unfolded clothes that she probably found lying around the dressing room.

"Yeah," I replied, grabbing what looked like a shirt and starting to fold it. "First the clothes were too tight. And then they were too loose. And then they were a perfect fit, but she didn't like the style or the color," I huffed, and (Y/C/N) laughed.

"Well, Katherine, that's what you get for working at one of the fanciest and top-notch clothing stores in England."

"I guess you're right. If I would have known that I was going to have to put up with picky snobs like her, I wouldn't have applied though," I joked, and she laughed, folding the last pair of pants.

"Do you mind hanging up some of the men's shirts? I have to go and help a teenager figure out what dress she should wear to prom," she groaned. "Want to trade jobs?"

"Hmm, go and hang up clothes or deal with a fussy, emotional perfectionist who wants to look perfect on her big night?" I asked myself jokingly, grabbing the pile of men's clothes after I said it. (Y/C/N) grimaced and started off towards the woman's department, waving to me and calling to me that she'd see me at lunch.

I grabbed the clothes from the counter and made my way over to the men's department, just to the right of the register. From my position, I was still able to see the register in case a customer needed help.

I was halfway done with hanging up the different shirts when I heard the bell ring at the desk. I searched around, not finding a suitable place to leave the clothes, and groaned. Picking up the heavy pile again, I carried it back towards the counter and placed it breathlessly on the top. "Hi. Can I help you with something?" I asked, flicking my hair to the side to better talk with the customer.

Embarrassedly, I felt my breath catch in my throat and my cheeks heat up slightly. I was not expecting this man to be this beautiful. He had bright blue eyes that made me feel warm and happy, and his bleached blonde hair was styled messily, as if he was rushing out of the house that morning. He smiled at me, and I felt my knees go weak. What was wrong with me? "Yeah, hi, love. I need some help finding some shirts," he requested in an Irish accent. Great, he's got an accent too. I'm done for.

"Um, sure. Right this way," I said softly, stepping out from behind the counter and leading him into the men's department. I was very conscious of everything. I was conscious of the fact that this man was walking behind me. I was conscious of my long braid swinging back and forth across my back. I was conscious of the fact that my heart was pounding and my breathing was out of control. How could he possibly be doing this to me? I don't even know him and he's causing me to stress about every little detail.