out of the blue / n.h

Chapter 8

MELANIE RICHARDS

I step into his apartment as the familiar smell strikes out through my nose. A typical scent. It’s warm and so Niall-ish. I don’t know how to describe the smell. It’s like his own skin perfume. As oppose to be homey and snuggly.

His apartment is pretty big for his own place. Maybe, just maybe, he used to live here with someone. And it’s not that messy. I mean, yeah there are dirty clothes and unwashed socks with lots of coffee cups on the coffee table. I take a look at the dishwasher and there are so many dirty dishes. But for an instance look, the room is pretty tidy and organized.

“Your apartment is big.” I nod, still scanning around the room, looking for something that would catch my eyes.

“Do you want to take your jacket off?” He offers, taking off his.

“No. Thanks though.” I smile and follow him to the couch.

“You want to stay for dinner?” He chuckles, pointing his thumb back to the kitchen.

“I’m not going to be long or my mom would freak out. I have to come home really soon, I’m sorry.” I say as he nods and walks down to his bedroom.

“It’s okay. Just take a seat, I’ll get them for you.” He shouts. I keep on stroking my palms on my jeans even though it's not sweating anymore. 

I take a seat then check out my phone and all the useless notifications to distract myself from being paranoid.

“Here. I have three of them and I made a playlist the other night, the copy of my favorite songs from the real records. So, I think I don’t need to buy another.” He puts down the cassettes on the coffee table.

“Yeah? How?” I shove my phone back to my jacket pocket and grab the records and take a closer look at it. With an excitement covers all over my face.

"Youtube.” He shrugs in a really cute way, He keeps on smiling without taking his glance off of me. I try so hard not to look dreamy at him. I keep on looking away to the cassettes.

“Are you sure it’s—“

“You’re here already, want it or not, take it. Now, do you want me to take you home?” He tilts his head to the door.

“No, and are you trying to get rid of me?” I laugh. He does too, his eyes are squinting shut. And it’s adorable.

“No! It’s just you said you need to hurry, I don’t want to waste another minute so your mom won't be freaking out.” He smiles.

“Thankyou. Really. I’ve been searching for these in my whole life.” I say, holding them tight and adoring the artwork.

He chuckles, for the thousandth time. It's hard not to notice everything he does. “Are you sure you don't want me to take you home?”

"No. I’ll get a taxi,” I smile without taking off my sight of his eyes. I’ve never really seen eyes this bright and blue. Except for contacts, obviously. “thank you.” I add.

He opens the door and waves me goodbye. His stare is a little intimate—which hurts me mentally. His perfect-carved face is haunting my mind. This Charming Man. Before I get out of his place, I quietly take a long sniff through my nose, hoping that I can save his sweet smell.

I take a taxi and get home. I finish my homeworks with the Smiths record playing. Even though I’ve heard it for the thousandth time, it’s a different feeling. To listen from their real tape is kind of new. Feels like listening to them for the first time all over again.

I can’t concentrate on my work and I often get distracted by the picture of Niall. He’s really sweet and nice to me it hurts not to get his number or that the fact hits me that I won’t see him continuously. Like, be able to see him in the library, the mall. Or school. I hope I will see him sometime. Just to look at those dazzling eyes and charming face. . . or to ask for a phone number.

The ringtone of my phone ruins my thoughts all in sudden. I grab my phone by the bedside table. I picture Niall’s name on it. Miles Teller. I feel a little sense of guilt because I literally roll my eyes and pout.

“Hello.” I greet.

“Hey! How are you doing?” He answers with a cheer voice.

“Uh, great, I guess. What’s up?” I answer with a wry tone.

“Well, uh, I was just asking if you’re still on for tomorrow. You know,” He says waiting for my response. It takes a while for me to mention it. I wait for him instead. “. . .the date?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Still on.” My voice is probably to straight.

“Okay. . .”

“I’m studying here, so, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, well, bye.” He says. I hang up really quick.

I want to cancel on him but it feels kind of wrong. Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?

I wake up and get ready to school. I steal a last glance at my 80’s tapes collection and the Smiths pops out of all of them. Then it reminds me of the Irish-charming guy, Niall.

Stop it, you're clearly undeterred. My subsconcious adds.