Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You

Niall will NOT shut up about you. Josie this, Josie that. End the madness!

I smiled at my phone upon reading the text from Harry. I was more than flattered that Niall was actually talking about me in front of the boys because of all the things Niall could talk about, he chose me. I'm slightly boring so I may be infringing on his coolness, but he still chose me.

I didn't have to work today and my apartment was a mess so today was decided Official Cleaning Day, much to my dismay. I popped on a record from the shelf and began in the kitchen. Everything had to be cleaned and organized. Everything. My pantry had to be cleaned out because I'm sure there was food from two years ago probably stuck in the back. My bottom cabinets were overflowing with empty cleaning bottles, and my top cabinets with thirty cans of soup that my grandmother thought would be a good idea to give to me. Which it would have been, had the soup not been mushroom soup.

My small kitchen table was trying its best to keep up with all the weight I was storing on it. I had a box full of soup to donate, a box full of expired food to trash, a box full of empty bottles, and a box full of full bottles. Doesn't sound like a lot, but my table is exceptionally strong. For good reason, since I am the only one who uses it.

I was currently in some twisted yoga-esque move trying to retrieve a mysterious object lurking in the back of my cabinet when my phone started ringing. I barely heard it over the sound of the music, but when I started hearing tinges of the Apple marimba ringtone, I knew it wasn't part of the song. I was in such a mad dash to get to my phone in time that I didn't even look at who it was first.

"Hello?" I breathed out, plopping on my couch in a spastic form.

"Hey, sweetheart."

My world flips upside down and I am trying so hard not to squeal in a girlish fashion, I almost positive my head is about to participate in an act of spontaneous combustion. "Hi, Niall! How are you?"

"Fantastic, although the boys will argue 'annoying.'" I smile to myself and lean further into the cushions of the couch, dreamily looking at the ceiling. "Are ya busy today? We should do something, or something."

I frown. I was busy. If I didn't finish cleaning my apartment today, I was never going to do it. Besides, I had already started and I couldn't abandon it now.

"You're hesitating. Is that a yes?" His voice carries through the phone and it doesn't sound as chipper as it once a few moments ago.

"Well..." I stall. I want to hang out with him (always) but I know it would be best to clean my apartment. But goddamn, there's a world famous boy on the other end with really pretty eyes asking to spend time with me and he might even kiss me again. Screw it. "No." I finally squeak the word out. "No, Niall, I'm not." I start smiling and sitting up straighter.

He breathes what sounds like a sigh of relief. "Are you sure? I want to take you out today."

I frown again. Smile to frown to smile back to frown. And I've only been on the phone with him less than two minutes. Take me out which means in public which means cameras which means everyone looking at my less than perfection next to Niall's pretty damn close to perfection perfection. Now I'm sitting there, having a crisis about what I'm actually doing with my life--working at a fancy restaurant that is miles fancier than me, living in an old apartment because the rent is cheap, living by myself and listening to my Dad's old records while trying to get the soap scum off my kitchen faucet. Not so glamorous, compared to Niall's...

"Josie?" Thank God his voice broke away from my internal battle with myself, because I was about to list in my head all the fabulous, insanely beautiful things Niall owned and had achieved and that would just have not been good for anyone.

"Okay." I say while staring blankly ahead.

He waits a moment. "Okay what?"

"Huh?" I snap back. "Oh, I mean. Okay, let's let you take me out." Back to smiling.

"Be there in an hour."

We hang up and my lips are back to smiling and my cheeks back to blushing. In my head, I think of the possibilities of today. I think of the closed off areas he might drag me just to sneak in a kiss or how he might hold my hand while he drives his car or how he might place his hand on the small of my back while leading me into a restaurant. My head is going wild with girlish ideas, until I realize:
My music had stopped playing.
I'm filthy.
My hair is atrocious.
I'm me.
And I'm going out with Niall Horan.

"Fuck."



All too soon, there's knocking at my door. I scramble and my stomach jumps up into my throat. I look in the mirror, 67% happy with my appearance and rush toward the door. I pause slightly before I open it. Staring at the dark wood, breathing in and out, praying he can't hear me, I tell myself to shut up and open the door.

I didn't really need to tell myself to shut up, however, because Niall pressing his lips against mine did the trick real quick. He kicked the door closed loudly with his foot and pushed me against the nearest wall. I had no time to think. Maybe a few thoughts were in my head but they mostly consisted of "Oh my God" "Niall" and "Oh my God, Niall."

His hands grip my waist, his thumbs right under my chest. And although they are resting gently, nothing has felt heavier. I know he can feel my ribs contract under his hands because I am breathing so heavily. I snake my hands to the sides of his neck to feel his pulse. And just like my ribs are contracting under his palms with heaves of air, his pulse is pounding unsteadily in my hands.

I break away from his lips. He doesn't move. He keeps his head slightly tilted, his mouth slightly open, and his eyes slightly closed. I peer up at him through my eyelashes while he is looking down at me through his. He looks sleepy and I feel dreamy. We stay like that. Breathing the same pocket of air before it's too much and I let him crash into me to kiss me again. He tugs me away from the wall and walks me backward. I forget that we're in my apartment--I actually forget that physical places are a thing because all my mind is thinking of are his lips and how they make me feel.

Suddenly, he groans into my mouth. But it's not because I made him feel good. "Shit." He says and looks down at his shin. He still kept both hands firmly on my waist.

I feel my cheeks redden to unimaginable heights. He ran his shin into the messy box of mushroom soup I had tried my best to hide behind my couch. Oops.

"Are you okay?" My voice whispers out. I didn't even mean to whisper. I suppose my body was so embarrassed it decided whispering was its only choice.

"Yeah, yeah. It's fine, really." He looks up after he says this, to flash his cute braces smile at me.

I still feel vaguely ashamed for some reason, but I can't help but smile back.

"So, um, the kissing. Why so much, all of a sudden?" Dork. I am a huge dork, but I said it anyway.

"Because," he pecks my lips, "I knew that," he pecks them again, "this would be the only time today that I could really," he then presses his lips firmly against my own and moves them beautifully with his. "Kiss you." He says when he's finished blowing my mind.

I knew Niall was referring to all the paparazzi. It wouldn't be very smart of him to have heated make out sessions in the middle of public with cameras all over him. But then again it also wouldn't be very smart to have those even if you weren't famous. It's a little much. Regardless, I still smirk at his boyishness.

Unfortunately for me now, the kissing escapade is over and he grabs a hold of my hand. "What are you doing with this anyway?" He kicks the box of soup for emphasis.

"Giving it to the homeless shelter."

"That's awesome! Very generous of you." He smiles genuinely and pecks me on the cheek. "I always love doing stuff like that with the boys. It's the best feeling."

I bite the inside of my lip to try to keep from frowning. It wasn't until after the fact that I realized that probably looked worse than frowning. Of course he loved doing stuff like that with the boys. Because they could more than afford to take trips to other countries, to donate ample amounts of money: of course, because he was able to do so much that I couldn't.

"So, I was thinking," he leans into me, pressing his thumbs against my hips. "We hang around town for the day. I don't have much of a plan, but we'll figure something out and I think it'll be fun."

"I like that." I smile for reassurance. He smiles with his eyes back to me and we head out.



I'm trying to shake away my insecurities and be myself while sitting shotgun in Niall's very beautiful Range Rover. My legs are crossed tightly over each other. I'm constantly smoothing out my dark green skirt. Constantly readjusting my posture. Constantly trying to meet the flawlessness of Niall. I feel like no matter what I do, I fail.

I know that it's all in my mind. I know that. But I think I also know some people are simply better looking than others. Some are just naturally more charming. And in this case, some just happen to be more famous than I could ever begin to wrap my little pea brain around. My thoughts are suffocating me. And when I think I'm about to bang my head against the window or something dramatic just to get these dumb things out of my head, his cold hand finds its way into mine and my brain shuts up for a bit and I look over at him from the passenger seat and enjoy his pretty face for a little while.