Just Consider It

As time grew on, I slowly discovered that I actually really liked hanging out with Niall. I thought he was funny and friendly and pretty interesting. Ever since that day at Avery's house, it seemed like the final barriers between us had broken down. We no longer felt like we had to study together in order to hang out.

Suddenly, I found myself seeing things on TV and texting him about it, or calling him to ask him questions about things I'd found on the Internet. I would get random messages from him in the middle of the night, asking me about math and formulas and other things he didn't get but knew I would. Sometimes they would be weird facts or just him telling me about his day. Normally I would be very pissed to have my sleep disturbed, but whenever I saw the message was from him, I relented.

Did you know that 15% of Americans secretly bite their toes??? is there somethin you wanna tell me H?

fuck, you caught me. I thought i'd be able to keep it a secret this time, but I should've known it was too good to be true.

admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery !

my problem is you.

likewise. you still comin over tomorrow yeah ?

yeah.

Sometimes, he would call me up and ask me to come over, and if Tyler was at work (he usually was - Tyler had a big fancy internship at a big fancy corportation in town) I would go over and we would hang out. No lines between us were blurred. No feelings were confessed. I would just sit in "my" desk chair and he would sprawl out on his bed with his guitar. Sometimes he would sing to me, but it was nothing serious; just snippets from songs he liked or catchy TV commercials or random, silly tunes we'd make up on the spot.

It was nice. It was really, really nice, to simply hang out and not have to worry about studying or schoolwork or oh God what am I going to do next. With Niall, it was almost like I was high without the drugs. I was lazy, sleepy, even giggly.

Tyler, of course, didn't really like it. He practically seethed whenever he came in from work to find me and Niall playing a board game or listening to music. He didn't like the fact that Niall called me "H" instead of "Hero." He didn't even like the music Niall played for me. "What kind of music is that even?" he asked one night after Niall had left. He was going over to Zayn's for some kind of get-together with the rest of the boys.

"What do you mean, 'what kind of music'?" I asked incredulously. "It's the music he likes to listen to." Granted, there was a lot of weird guitars and even weirder voices involved in some of them, but a few were oldies that my dad liked to listen to, like Bon Jovi and The Eagles.

"It sounds like a bunch of rubbish if you ask me."

"It's not rubbish," I answered, a little annoyed now. "It's The Vaccines."

He could tell that I wasn't in the mood for another argument, because he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close. "Okay, okay, sorry, it's The Vaccines." He paused for a second before he smiled and said, "I guess some of the songs were all right."

And that was the bit of Tyler that I liked to see, when he wasn't being jealous and over-protective and cross. I liked it when he was relaxed and loose and joked around with me. Maybe he should hang out with Niall more. I wanted to suggest it but didn't because I wasn't dumb.

To be honest, I wasn't sure what was going on with Niall and Tyler at the moment. They appeared to get along; well, they had to, they were roommates and they were stuck together whether they liked it or not. But sometimes, as one was leaving and the other was coming in, I could see a flicker or something flash across each of their faces. I didn't know what it was, and frankly, I didn't want to know. Tyler and Niall were both separate parts of my lives and I intended to keep them that way.

As time grew on, I could feel myself falling a little bit more for Tyler each day. And it was weird, because I never really allowed myself to feel things like that anymore. I just really liked spending time with him, and when I was with him I felt good, safe, happy.

Sure, when it came to Niall, he was overprotective, but even I could understand it. Imagine coming into your room after a long day at work and finding your girlfriend hanging out and getting all buddy-buddy with your roommate. That had to sting.

So I just did my best not to play favorites and try my hardest to spend equal time with both of them. It was almost like I was a favorite toy and they were siblings who didn't want to share.

Maggie cornered me as I came home, happy from getting to hang out all day with Tyler. We'd gone for a walk around campus and then watched a movie in his dorm. Normally I didn't like watching movies, because I got distracted too easily, but when I safely tucked up in Tyler's arms I found it a lot less difficult.

"What's got you so cheerful?" she demanded, looking up from the paper she was typing. Maggie was majoring in Economics and it required a lot of papers and heavy books and reading and frowning. (She often joked that it would be a perfect major for me) When she wasn't working, she was either doing schoolwork, putting up with me, or trying to sleep. Sometimes I felt bad for being such a pain in the ass, because I knew she had a lot on her plate, but it usually dissolved after a while. Maggie and I were assholes to each other; she was the only person I could get away with insulting. It helped us get our anger out, and it usually ended in laughter because we never meant it anyway.

She sounded a little strained now, but I let it slide. "Nothing," I said, shrugging, stretching. "How's the paper going?"

"Fucking awful," she said with venom. "And don't you lie to me, Hero Bronwyn, because you have that look on your face and you never have that look." I blinked innocently. "You might as well just spill it."

I shrugged. "I just had a nice day."

This got her full attention. She looked up, locking her eyes on me this time, pausing in her work. "You did?"

"Yeah."

"What, did you beat Niall at FIFA for once?" Niall and Tyler had bought a flat-screen TV for their dorm when they first moved in together, and whenever we got bored Niall would try to teach me how to play video games. I didn't like them, a) because they were pretty childish, and b) he always beat me at them. He particularly enjoyed kicking my ass in virtual soccer, since that and psychology were the only two things he could hold over me.

"No. But I am getting better," I added after a moment of thought. "No, Niall was gone today, his brother came down so they went out for a guys' day or whatever. It was just me and Tyler."

Maggie raised her eyebrows. "Oh." She was silent for a second before she said cautiously, "How are things with you guys?"

I knew she was trying not to ruin my mood by pressing too much, and I appreciated it. "They're good."

"Still jealous of Niall?"

"Yeah."

My roommate shrugged. "How can you not be? The kid is a total babe, Hero, admit it. If he went to my high school the girls would be climbing him like a tree."

I obviously wasn't going to outright agree, but she was right. Niall was beautiful, but in a strange way. Not in a way that's forced, like if you posed him and told him to smile. It was more like in the ways when he was caught off guard: when he was in mid-laugh as the camera went off or if he was looking somewhere else.

And I hated to admit it, but sometimes when we were sitting together and he was reading over my work, I would turn and watch him and the way his lips moved slightly as his eyes darted across the page and it would just strike me as so amazing that he could look this way even when he wasn't paying attention.

Niall obviously knew he was good-looking, but sometimes I felt as though he didn't know how good-looking he was. And I just sort of maybe wanted to tell him.

But I didn't. Because I had Tyler, and Tyler treated me right and made me happy and whenever I was with him I felt good and safe. Niall was my best friend and that was it, regardless of his looks or not.

"Yeah, I suppose," I said finally. "I don't really notice it."

Maggie smirked, because she and I both knew that everyone noticed Niall. He was like the sun; the second he walked in the room people were automatically drawn to him.

"Well, at any rate," Maggie said, the tone of her voice indicating that she was about to close the conversation and get back to work, "I'm glad you're happy, Hero. Really."

"Thanks, Mags," I said, a little quietly. She nodded and went back to her laptop. That was usually how mine and Maggie's heart-to-hearts went. She never minded talking about her feelings, but she understood that I wasn't comfortable with it and didn't push.

Sometimes I really did love Maggie.

* * *

A few days later, I was hanging out with Niall again. This time, I was lying on his bed, flat on my back, staring up at the ceiling while he sat in the desk chair. Tyler and I had gone out for dinner last night and I'd ordered some spicy weird chicken thing that hadn't exactly agreed with my stomach. Maggie didn't want me in our room because I "distracted her with my moaning and groaning," so Tyler had called Niall and asked if he would stay with me in their room while Tyler worked.

So I was sprawled out of Niall's bed, breathing deeply, waiting for the Pepto-Bismol I'd drank to kick in. "Niall," I whined.

"Yeah?"

"My tummy hurts." I was aware of how little I sounded.

"What do you want me to do?" He didn't say it in a mean way, though.

"I . . . I don't know," I faltered. "Make it stop hurting."

"Wish I could."

"It hurts."

"I know, H," his voice was tender, "but you gotta wait for the Pepto, okay? It'll work in a few. I promise." He looked around the room before he said, "Here - why don't I read to you?"

"Depends what you're gonna read."

"How does The Great Gatsby sound?" Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him pick it up off of his desk. Niall really liked The Great Gatsby, ever since he'd read it in school.

"Sounds okay." I'd never read it myself, and I had nothing better to do other than moan in pain, so I figured why not.

"Cool. I think you'll like it." Niall opened the book and flipped past the introductory pages, his brows furrowed. I shut my eyes as he finally began to read.

"In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.

'Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,' he told me, 'just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.'"

He read on, and I listened, liking the way his accent made the words sound funny and the way his voice was deep and rumbly and soothing. I cracked one eye open and watched him. His eyebrows were still furrowed, a little crease appearing between them. Occasionally he would pull one hand away from the book and scratch his nose before returning it. As he brought the words on the pages to life, I felt the Pepto-Bismol beginning to work, and the throbbing in my stomach gradually ceased, although I liked to think of it as Niall himself making it better. And I just kept watching him and I wondered if he knew how fantastic he really was.

Very carefully, I pulled out my phone, turning on the camera, and stealthily pointed it at Niall, although it really wouldn't have made a difference as he was completely absorbed in the book. Now I just had to wait for the exact moment.

I soon got it. Niall read, "I had a dog — at least I had him for a few days until he ran away — and an old Dodge and a Finnish woman, who made my bed and cooked breakfast and muttered Finnish wisdom to herself over the electric stove." and laughed to himself, and right then I pressed the button. The quiet click of the shutter told me the job was done.

I'd barely gotten a peek at the picture before Niall said, "Did you just take my picture?" He didn't sound mad, just puzzled.

"Um . . . yes." Why bother lying?

"Okay . . . why?"

I tried to think of an answer that would make the most sense, that wouldn't send him running away, but all I could come up with was, "Do you know what you look like when you read?" He shook his head, his expression even more confused than before. I wanted to hit myself. "You look . . . come here." I didn't even bother trying to explain it.

He got up and came over, sitting down on the bed and taking my phone. Together, we looked at the picture. Niall was gazing down at the book, caught mid-laugh. Part of the photo was a little blurry since I'd taken it quickly, but I thought it looked okay.

"I don't get it," Niall said finally. "I look the same as I always do." He shrugged and went back to his chair, me gaping after him.

"You don't get it." I repeated.

"Nope."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing myself to say it. "You have no idea," I told him at last, "how beautiful you are. When you're just sitting there reading, or when you're caught off guard . . . you're amazing. Okay?" I sincerely hoped he didn't think I was trying to come on to him, because it wasn't like that at all.

He blinked at me, surprised, before pointing at himself. "Me?"

"Yes, you."

Niall didn't say anything for a second; he just kept staring at me with a blank expression. I was scared that I'd gone too far, that what I'd said had crossed so many lines and violated so many boundaries. I wanted to apologize, but that intense way he was looking at me made it impossible to know if I should or not.

But then a smile as bright and warm as the sun lit up his face. "Thanks, H," he said. "Thank you."

"No problem, Ni." I smiled back before lying back down on the bed as he picked up the book and began to read. And there was no awkwardness because Niall understood what I meant, as always, and he never questioned me.

Sometimes I really was quite fond of Niall.