Wanderlust

I sat with my legs criss-crossed, cooped up into the corner of my large plush sofa with my laptop perched up in my lap and my phone balanced between my shoulder and ear. Beside me was the large window Will and I’s apartment had, revealing our small view of London which was now obscured by the rain drops drizzling down the glass. It was exceptionally cold in London that afternoon, especially strange since just days earlier, in my adventure through the city, it had been reasonably warm. I guess that was just English weather for you.

“Wait, wait, wait... Back it up, Cally. It was a date or it wasn’t?”

My best friend’s voice had my gaze torn from the distorted view beside me and back down at my lap where my computer had my Twitter open in a browser. I had now been on the phone with Paloma for roughly half an hour, retracing the steps I had taken in the country - most of them being with the One Direction boys, interestingly enough.

“Well, I suppose it was.” I confirmed, scrolling through my Twitter in the meantime. “He said it was and I didn’t object to it, so...” I trailed off, my eyes slowly going back to the window as a smile tugged at my lips at the thought.

“Totally was a date, then.” Loma agreed, probably nodding adamantly from her side of the world as well. “What are the fucking chances, seriously! You would meet those babes, Cal. Shit, you’ve definitely gotta’ introduce me when I fly over next week!”

I chuckled into the receiver, reconcentrating on the screen in front of me. Paloma Andrews was the biggest character I had yet to meet. She had this jet black hair that fell choppily onto her shoulders, everything about her physical structure just screaming warmth, from her olive skin to her chocolate eyes. Her personality, however, was polar opposite. She had the kind of attitude you’d likely stray away from upon meeting her; sharp tone and witty comments all the same; not to mention the sailor mouth on her.

From across the room there was a knock on the door, causing me a small fright. “Alright,” I chuckled, removing the laptop from my legs and jumping up off the couch, knowing Will wasn’t home to answer the door or yell for me to get it. “I have to go, anyway. Someone’s at the door and it’s no doubt one of your lovers,” I teased, referring to the boys of topic as they had in fact mentioned they may drop by today to hang out.

“I’ll tweet you later, this call is probably sending me bankrupt.” I laughed, stretching my body out as my socks padded across the room.

I faintly heard her mutter ‘doubt it’ as I laughed more, reaching for the doorknob and pulling open the apartment’s entrance. “Bye, Loma.” I said quickly before hanging up the call and finally smiling at the three boys in front of me.

“’Ello!” I beamed, serving my best imitation of a British accent for Harry, Liam and Niall.
The boys chuckled, shaking their heads before stepping inside the warm apartment, a nice contrast from the frost outside.

“Hi, Luce, you look...” Liam hugged me first, leaving one hand on my jumper-clad shoulder as he eyed my baggy clothing. “Warm.”

“Shut up!” I laughed, shoving at his shoulder as he chuckled himself.

“Who’s that on te’ phone?” Niall questioned me, quickly hugging me and removing the woollen scarf from his neck.

“My best mate, Paloma. She’s coming up next week, you guys will probably meet her – by her own force, I’d say.” I explained, turning now to Harry, who had hung back at the doorway while the others made themselves comfortable upon my furniture. As my blue eyes met those misty green ones, I quickly flickered mine downwards at his attire. He, as well as the other boys, were decked out in warm materials, sweats and hoodies and scarfs, either to avoid recognition or to avoid the horrendous weather, probably both.

The British boy quickly shuffled forward as I came to face him, reaching his arms around me and brushing a small kiss onto my cheek, surely inflaming them at the same time
“She Niall’s type?” He asked me as he pulled away and removed the beanie covering his voluminous curls.

I went back over to my previous seat, moving the laptop onto the coffee table as Harry placed himself in the only remaining seat beside me, his long arm going behind me on the couch as I tried not to read too much into the action, despite the very subtle wink I had received. “What’s Niall’s type?”

“Girl.” They all said together, chuckling while Liam ruffled at the Irishman’s hair, in turn receiving a swat.

I smiled toothily, enjoying the fact that despite not knowing these boys long, we had all become so comfortable with each other, “She is a girl." I confirmed, "She’s a model, too. Very pretty.” I egged on, trying to imagine the two conversing. Paloma would probably eat the poor boy alive.

The blonde haired boy whistled sharply, shaking his head. “Not me type, ‘den...”

“What? Pretty isn’t your type?” I asked him, slightly bewildered. I had trouble believing Paloma, physically, couldn’t be someone’s type. She was genuinely stunning, regardless of my best-friend-bias.

“Perfect.” Niall corrected, lifting his leg so his ankle fell on his knee, sinking further into the other couch’s cushions. “Perfect isn't really me’ type.”

I snorted, quickly trying to cover it up with another chuckle though I saw from the corner of my eye Harry turn to me with an amused look on his face, “She’s far from perfect. Foulest mouth I’ve ever heard.”

Niall appeared to perk up at my words, which I had said rather tactically after having heard the boy’s intoxicated slurs a couple of nights ago, nothing really G-rated leaving his lips.

I reached for the remote at that moment, deciding to find a movie or television show to pass the time with, seeing as the boys apparently weren’t here for any particular reason. I heard Niall hum from across the room while I flicked through channels and Liam commented on which movies we should watch – all of his suggestions being that of the cartoon selection.

“We’ll see t’en...” The blonde muttered quietly while looking at his hands, causing me to smirk. I knew Paloma would basically have a cardiac arrest at the news of my wing-woman success.

“You’ve got absolutely rubbish television over here.” I commented, elbowing Harry beside me as I attempted at more British slang. The curly-haired boy had previously mentioned that I should pick up on the language, to which I replied with the suggestion that he should learn some Australian words. I instantly regretted it as he immediately began overusing words like ‘mate’ and ‘g’day,’ even fitting in ‘struth’ somehow.

He lifted his hand from behind me on the sofa and ruffled the blonde bun of my two-toned hair, much like Liam had done to Niall, causing me to scrunch my face up in distaste, my nose wrinkling. He tapped at my nose in return with his other hand, scrunching his own face as well. “Very cute.” He commented, laughing and urging me to look away to hide the warmth crawling up my neck once again.

From the couch opposite I noticed Liam staring at the both of us with an extremely amused expression, his eyebrows right up into his forehead among the wrinkles formed. His face turned suggestive as he caught my glance, a small smirk hanging on his lips.

I playfully glared at him, silently wishing for him to remain silent as well. Though I was sure he wouldn’t remain completely silent, no doubt itching to let Danielle know of the small, generally meaningless exchange between Harry and I, as well.

I rolled my eyes as he continued to smirk at me, choosing to avert them onto the programme Harry had now chosen after having taken the remote control from me. I decided to ignore everything around me, mostly Liam’s looks, and just subtly enjoy the warmth hovering over right side, a smile on my face all the same.