Black And White //N.H

7.

Monday morning I wake up and feel like shit. My head is pounding and I'm pretty sure I've caught a fever. So with that I call in sick for work, and go back to sleep. I wake up a couple of hours later to my phone ringing, and when I look at the caller I.D I see that it's Roman. "Hi Ro, what's up," I ask, pulling my duvet a little off my face. "Where are you, it's lunchtime," He says, and I can hear chatter in the background. "I'm home, sick," I answer, trying to get hold of a sweater without leaving my bed. "Aww, do you want me to come by with dinner or something later?" I shake my head no, but quickly realizes that he can't see me. "No thanks, I don't want to infect you," I tell him, pulling on the sweater I found. "Oh, okay, but call me if you need anything, I gotta go," He says. I thank him and we hang up the phone. I get out of bed, taking my covers with me wearing it like a cape, and walk into the kitchen. I make myself a cup of tea, and a quick meal before I lay down on the couch.

Hours pass and I'm starting to feel better. When it's around five o'clock my doorbell rings. I assume it's either Lily or Roman, but I'm proved wrong when I open up the door and Niall stands there. "Hey, Roman told me you were sick, and I thought I could try to cheer you up," he says, holding a brown paper bag in his hand. "If that's booze, you've misread the situation," I laugh, pointing at the bag. "Of course not, it's McDonalds," he says turning the bag around showing the logo. "Niall, as much as I want to hang out with you, I don't want you to get sick," I tell him. "Don't worry, I'm on my way to get sick anyways,". I'm about to tell him that we should hang out some other time, but before I can he opens the door a little and passes me in the doorframe. I look at him with a look that says seriously, but can't help but smile a little. I follow him into the sitting room, and offer him something to drink, but he just shoves me towards the couch. "Sit, I'll fix it," he said, finding two plates and two bottles of water from the fridge. I sit down on the couch, and drag the covers over me.

I'm quite aware of my appearance, which consists of an ugly but comfy pair of sweats and a hoodie. I try to forget about that, and tell myself that he's the one who came and surprised me, and he should take it for what it is. I'm sick, not walking on the runway. He places a plate on my lap and I look at the burger. "What's on it?" I ask, dreading something nasty like pickles or onion. "It's a big mac," he tells me. "yeah, but is it onions or pickles on it?" I ask, a little shy over being picky. "No onions and no pickles, kinda figured you weren't a big fan after you picked the onions out of the salad we had the other day," He lets out a little laugh, and I can feel my cheeks heat up. I start eating the burger, wondering if there is other stuff he has noticed.

When we're done eating, I start to clean up but he stops me, informing me of the fact that I'm sick and shouldn't be doing anything. I try to protest, but he still makes me sit back down. He comes back out when he's done. "Do you want to play a game?" He asks, laying back on the couch. "That depends on what game," I answer, doing the same, staring up at the ceiling. "Ok, so it isn't exactly a game, but tell me something I've never heard before," He says. I think for a while. "I can't think of something," I tell him, fiddling with a pillow behind my head. "Oh come on, something, anything," He pushes on, so I end up telling the only thing I can think of. "Okay, so a couple of years ago I was dating this boy, and he took me to this fairground, and wanted to go try out a ferris wheel, so we did. He thought it was supposed to be two rounds, so right before we were supposed to get off he broke up with me. It turned out that it was three rounds, so we had to sit through an awkward silence for like ten minutes. When we got off he ran off, and left me there alone, so I had to call Lily or something to get me. Definitely the worst night of my life," I tell him. "What a douche, why did he do that?" Niall asks. "Who knows, maybe he thought I was the kinda girl who wanted to be broken up with on a ferris wheel," I joke, but he doesn't get it. "Wait, some girls want that?" He says, sounding surprised. "No of course not," I say and laugh, before I continue; "Your turn, tell me a story." He stays quiet for some time, before making a sound signaling he just came up with something. "Okay, so when I was about fourteen and lived back home in Mullingar I used to play football like every other kid. One day I was playing with my friend, and he went in to tackle me, but I managed to get away with the ball. My friend got pissed off by that, so he went into another tackle straight after, which resulted in him hitting me in my ankle with the studs. I had to go to the hospital and it was as bad as it could be without being broken, so I was out for months. It sucked 'cause I had an important match a week later," He tells me. I laugh, and sit up. "Hey, it's not fun, it was pretty terrifying, not knowing if I could ever play football again." This makes me laugh even more. "You don't think you're being a little dramatic, no?" I ask. He sits up and slides a little closer. "I'm not, football was my life back then, I wanted to go pro." I raise my eyebrows at him. "How would you say that worked out for you?" I ask. He thinks about it. "Well, let's just say that if I didn't get that injury, you would know me as Niall Horan the football player and not Niall Horan, the blonde irish guy," He says. I laugh at him, and he smiles. "Well, I think it's just fine knowing you as the blonde irish guy, it fits you perfectly," I tell him and lay back down. "We should do a one on one sometime, see who's the best football player," he offers. "You're on Horan," I say, making him laugh. "I got a question, why did you start coloring your hair?" I ask. "Getting into the deep stuff, I love it," he jokes. "Well I started doing it when I was about twelve or something, because I thought it looked cool. When I was placed in One Direction it was my thing kinda, I was the blonde one. I stopped going when we went on the break. I still have the blonde ends though, but counting days until I'm a brunette again," He continues. "I like your blonde hair, or I saw this picture from the x-factor days I think, and that wasn't such a look, but otherwise it's cute" I tell him. "Don't remind me of that, please," He says and I laugh. Suddenly a picture comes to mind, and I pick up my phone. I search up Niall Horan Draco Malfoy on google, and the image comes up. "Nothing is ever going to beat this though. This is iconic," I tell him, showing him the picture. He turns away from me, putting his face in his head. "No, please don't remind me of that," he says. I laugh, before putting my phone back on the coffee table. He looks up from his hands and laughs.

He stays for a little longer, trying to make me feel better, and it works on some level. I'm still sick, but he's lifting my mood. "Okay, you should go to bed," He says, and gets up from the couch when it's ten o'clock. "It's ten Nigel, don't you think it's a little early?" I ask him. "First off, I love nicknames, but Nigel isn't sitting right with me, sweets. Second off, you're sick and should get some rest." I laugh, before standing up. "You're probably right," I say, heading for the door to see him off. "Where are you going? I said I'll take care of you and that includes tucking you in, and don't try to protest. I can let myself out," He says, and takes my hand. I should protest, but to be fair it sounds nice to be tucked in, so I do my night routine, and head to bed. He wraps the sheets around me like a burrito, and places a kiss on my forehead. "Goodnight, Em. I hope you feel better tomorrow, sweet dreams," He says, and I tell him goodnight as well. He disappears from my room and soon after I hear the front door close.

AN//heyyy. Do I need to always have a AN? Cause I don't really know what to write tbh.