All the lucky Millions: A Niall Horan Love Story

Chapter 8: When Harry met Sally. (Or Madi actually)

Chapter 8:                                                                                                                                  *Harry’s POV*

As I stood in front of the dark wooden door and peered in through the colorful stained glass into what I could make out, was a living room. Suddenly another figure appeared on the opposite side of the door. I smiled as I made out another two familiar figures standing behind the girlish one.

The knob turned and a pretty blond girl opened the door with a smile, “Hi!” She smiled excitedly, “You must be Harry Styles.” She stepped back a tad and welcomed me in. Niall and Liam both stood behind her. Well… Niall was pretty much leaning his chin on top of the poor girl’s head; he was standing really close to her. I smiled and stepped inside, the smell of Apple Pie filled my nostrils and my whole body relaxed. I shifted my narrowed eyes from Niall’s hopeless gaze, to the lass’s perky expression.

I smiled, piecing the scene together.

“Oh! YOU must be the oh-so-wonderful Abby, I’ve been hearing about for the last 24 hours!” I said teasingly, making Niall’s cheeks go way red.

She blushed as well, looking down at her shoes.

“Hey, can I use your bathroom real fast?” I asked. Being serious, of course. I hadn’t gotten to do anything but drive around New York today, which by the way, had been strangely quiet today.

Abby, Niall, and Liam exchanged mischievous looks.

Abby cleared her throat, holding in a giggle. “Oh! The bathroom! Sure! It’s right down the hall, second room on the left!” She walked back to another open room, holding in more giggles, as Niall followed her, like a little lost puppy under a spell. Liam winked at me and followed as well.

As I came to the bathroom door, I heard the sound of shower water running, and the most beautiful singing voice I had ever heard. I cracked the door open slightly, as the warmth and humidity of a hot shower floated out of the room.

“She wears High Heels, I wear sneakers! She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers! Dreamin’ bout the day when you wake up and find that what you’re looking for has been here the whole time…!”

All I could see was a girlish silhouette behind the translucently foggy shower glass. She looked as if she was singing into a shampoo bottle. How adorable.

Recognizing the song she was singing, in an ADORABLE country accent, I sat on the sink and listened.

“If you could see that I’m the one who understands you! Been here all along, so why can’t you see-ee-ee? You belong with me-ee-ee! Standing out here, waiting at your back door, all this time…”

I decided to join in with her.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW BABEE-EE-EE? YOU BELONG WITH ME-EE-EE!!”

She stopped singing and clutched the shampoo bottle. “Abby…? When did your voice get so deep…?” She poked her head around an opening between the wall and the shower door expecting to find Abby.

She found me instead, grinning cheekily at her. “Hi, Love.”

…

At first there was a moment of awkward silence…

But then she finally collected herself enough to manage a scream.

“OHMIGOD! HARRY! WHAT THA-?! OH MY GOD! GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!”

I laughed hysterically and dogged her hands that were flinging water at me. “Alright!” I said, barley able to breath I was laughing so hard. “I’m going! I’m going!” Still laughing, I collected myself as I shielded my body behind the bathroom door. “But may I just say, before I leave…” she ripped a towel off of the towel holder on the wall and wrapped it around herself and finally stepping out from behind the shower door so I could see her.

“I do not know who you are, but you look amazing in that towel.”

She tried to swat at me as I ran out of the bathroom laughing.

“STYLES!” Her voice rang down the hallway, “I’LL GET YOU!”

I yelled back at her as she poked her head out of the bathroom so that her long wet hair attached strands of itself to her shoulders and small strands on her cheeks.

“WILL YOU BE WEARING CLOTHES?!” I laughed at her as she retreated back into the bathroom.

Hiding inside so I could no longer see her, she threw the towel she was wearing at my face, and it draped itself over my curly hair.

I could hear the hysterical laughter of the three of the culprits all the way from in the kitchen. With the towel hiding my face, I spoke to the beautiful lass on the other side of the bathroom door in a muffled voice, “This towel smells of strawberry shampoo.”