lovefool // niall horan spy au

iv. these diamonds shine, but not as bright as you

"You know, I'm actually convinced you're trying to kill me."

At that, Niall has the audacity to laugh. "Listen, sunshine, you're supposed to be able to do at least twenty pushups. It's not my fault you're out of shape."

Sameera groans, burying her head into the crook of her elbow as she lays face down on the mat. "I can do twenty pushups. I can't do them when you superset a whole bunch of other shit together."

There's silence after that, and she doesn't have to look at him to know he's making a face at her. "You can do them. You're just out of shape."

She has half a mind to throw a dumbbell at him right now but she doesn't have the energy to open her eyes, much less lift one of her limbs. "I hate you," she mutters, voice muffled.

She's not sure how Niall caught her to actually work out with him today. She's not sure about anything that's happened this morning, though, to be honest.

The ending of last night is a blur. She doesn't know how drunk she ended up getting but she knows she must have made out with Niall some more, even after they got back to the house, because she woke up in the same bed with him, with his face tucked into the curve of her shoulder and his chest pressed to her back.

Whatever happened, they were ignoring it, both of them making the unspoken decision to act as they normally would around each other. Even then, they have significantly warmed up to each other since the elevator incident, and they're more like acquaintances now as opposed to straight up hating each other.

"C'mon," Niall is saying to her now, hands on her waist to pull her up from where she's lying limp on the floor. "Babe, you've only done a few sets. You can't be that tired."

Sameera huffs. He's been throwing the nicknames at her again because he knows how much it irritates her, and it's the frustration she's feeling towards the fact that he's torturing her with this stupid workout plan that's getting her through this right now. He gets down on his own mat next to her as if to motivate her, but it only makes her more pissed at him. They go through the superset of sit-ups, crunches, and push-ups until Sameera literally can't feel her arms anymore and he agrees to finally stop.

"You're a menace," she gripes, though it doesn't come out as harsh as she wants it to because she can't catch enough air for her voice to be strong. She resumes her position of laying limp on her stomach as she tries to catch her breath. "Why are you such a damn health freak?"

"Dunno," he breathes out, and Sameera gets distracted by the bead of sweat that's running down his temple for a moment. "Always been that way, I suppose."

She scoffs. "Okay, you've probably always eaten healthy and shit, but I know you weren't always such a gym rat."

Niall turns his head to look at her, laughing, and Sameera thinks that it looks so good on him. She distantly wishes he laughed more. She'd have no problem admiring that smile for the rest of this mission. "How can you say that with such certainty?" he asks, amused.

"Because no one is willingly a gym rat," she mutters, closing her eyes. Looking at him is way too distracting. Why did Hodges have to partner her with someone so unbelievably attractive? Again, she thinks of how much the universe must hate her.

Silence falls over them for a while, and when she opens her eyes again, Niall's looking up at the ceiling. The ceiling to their basement is mirrored, which is weird, but because it's so low, the mirror only serves to make the space feel bigger. But Niall isn't looking at their reflection; it seems as though he's lost in thought.