Murphy's Law ✔️

Chapter Twelve.

Harry insisted that Murphy should take her time finding a job.

Consistently, he reminded her that money was not an issue and that she didn't have to start actively looking for a job unless she felt she was absolutely ready. Murphy, with her hair tied up in the messiest of buns, quirked an eyebrow at him from across the room.

"Harry, my dear," she started with her hands on her hips, "it's not like I don't love your apartment, but if I stare at these white walls any longer, I may just begin hallucinating."

"Hey! Didn't you notice my picture on the wall? There's decoration, Murph, don't be such a whimp!"

Her eyes rolled as they landed on a cuddled up Niall in the corner of the room on the floor. A spliff hung from his mouth as his hands- which were covered in grease from the pizza he was literally inhaling- moved animatedly in his defense, pointing at the small baby picture of him that sat under the telly.

Murphy stared at him for a few moments before pursing her lips and nodding, turning her gaze back to Harry with a teasing smile.

"Yeah, I definitely need to get out of here."

The day she found the job was two weeks after she had ditched heroin. The side effects from the withdrawal were long gone at that point and, admittedly, she had never felt so good.

After incessant whining from Harry, she'd finally decided to take up yoga in the mornings alongside him- and while she hated to admit it, she did feel more relaxed throughout the day and, evidently, more flexible.

Ever since the kiss they'd shared that night in the bathtub, not much else had happened besides the two of them subconsciously stripping down to their undergarments every night before bed and holding each other closely through the night. It was all they needed to satisfy each other, in all honesty. They had made a silent agreement to take it further when the timing was right, and neither of them were complaining.

It wasn't the best of jobs- certainly not a career in any sense- but two days into working at the cafe, Murphy realized how happy she was with the simplicity of being a normal, mid-twenty year old girl.

During her interview, they had asked her of any previous employments- and with a classic Murphy smirk, she informed them that she worked at a prestigious bar on the other side of town as a bartender for years. She even offered them a real phone number.

That night, the manager of Moonlight Cafe would call the number and hear the wonderful praises of a one Ms. Murphy Smalls by a man with a heavy, Irish accent.

Murphy giggled by Niall's side the entire time.

On her third day of work, a girl around Murphy's age waltzed into the cafe with a guitar strapped across her back. The cafe was quiet, and Murphy had some down time, so she stood still at the counter with a rag in her hand and watched the girl set up before she sat down at a stool and greeted herself to the customers.

"Hey everyone," she smiled into the microphone, "my name's Mariangela- some of you may know me by now. Hope it's alright that I sing a few songs for you?"

Light applause broke out across the room and the girl grinned, a few chords being tested out on her guitar before she began singing her own personal rendition of a soft pop song that Murphy had never heard.

Regardless- it was like she was nine years old all over again, as her eyes widened and her index finger began rhythmically tapping on the counter. She stared in wonder as the performer gently strummed the soft melody.

A tap on Murphy's shoulder snapped her out of her trance and she blinked, her eyes falling on her manager.

"I'm so sorry- I just got distracted. I'll get to cleaning up right away, Michelle."