Lost in London

The sound of knocking woke Reilly. She groaned and rubbed her eyes. Behind her curtains it was still dark outside. Silence settled around her as she blinked a few times, and she wondered if she'd only imagined the sound. But just when she'd closed her eyes to go back to sleep, the doorbell rang, followed by frantic knocking.

Her phone buzzed on the night table next to her bed. She sighed as she reached for it. The bright light from the screen blinded her momentarily and she squinted, trying to understand the mishmash of letters strung together in the message: Pprn yhe dpor it read.

Cold enveloped her as she threw the blankets off and swung her feet over the side of the bed. She slid her feet into her slippers and grabbed a sweater as she trudged out of her room and down the short hallway to the front door, flipping a light switch on the way. She flung the door open and the obviously plastered boy almost fell into her apartment, but he grabbed onto the door frame for support.

Once he'd steadied himself, he looked up at her, red faced and smiling. "Missed ya, Darlin'!" he slurred excitedly.

She groaned, not bothering to hide her distaste for the situation. "Do you even know what time it is, Niall?" she asked.

He shook his head, but his ear-to-ear smile didn't falter in the least. "Late," he said. "But I wanted to see ya." His speech was so slurred that she could barely understand him.

Reilly pulled her sweater closed across her chest and narrowed her eyes. "You couldn't have waited until tomorrow or the weekend like everyone else?"

He shook his head. "Couldn't let the lads see ya before I did." he said.

"Okay, well, now you've seen me. It's time for you to go home so I can get back to bed," she told him.

"Can't go home," he said plainly. "Too hammered to get there."

Part of her wanted to slam the door in his face and hope he would get the message, but another part of her knew that she couldn't very well leave him standing there in the state he was in. With a loud sigh she pulled the door open all the way and stepped back.

"Come inside. I'll call you a taxi," she said.

Niall's smile somehow managed to widen as he stepped into her apartment, leaning in unsteadily to place a sloppy kiss on her cheek. His breath reeked of alcohol, and she immediately reached up to wipe away the wet spot he'd left on her face.

"You're beautiful even when you're mad," he commented as she brushed past him to go wash her hands. She rolled her eyes when her back was to him and didn't make any effort to acknowledge what he said. He followed her to her room once she finished washing her hands. "I've got an Irish flag that would look great on that wall," he slurred, pointing across the small room as he leaned against the door frame for support.

"Shut up," she said, rolling her eyes again. Because the room was only dimly lit by the hall light, he still didn't see it. Annoyance radiated off her as she snatched her phone off the pillow where she'd dropped it after she finally deciphered his message.

Moving surprising quickly for how intoxicated he was, Niall closed his hand over the phone and fell on her bed. "You don't need that," he informed her, taking the device out of her hand. She raised an eyebrow curiously at him. "I'll just sleep right here."

"Absolutely not," she said.

He looked up at her. His blue eyes were glazed over but still shining bright and he seemed blissfully happy. "I took care of you when you were drunk," he reminded her. "Bed's comfy," he mumbled.

"I didn't show up on your doorstep, wasted, at some ridiculous hour. You found me stumbling drunk outside a bar. I passed out and you dropped me on your couch. There's a big difference between the two situations. I didn't ask you to take care of me," she said.

His eyes fluttered closed. "I know. You never ask for anything. You can do everything on your own. You're Reilly and you don't need anyone," he mumbled. His words took her by surprise, and she clenched her jaw tightly to keep herself quiet. He opened his eyes again and looked straight at her. "But I am asking," he said.

In a way it only seemed fair to return the favor. He was incredibly drunk and even if she called a cab for him, there was no guarantee he would make it from the car to his bedroom, or even living room, safely. "Fine," she gave in with a heavy sigh. "I'll go get you some water," she said. In response, he slur-mumbled that he didn't want any and she rolled her eyes once again. "You need some water," she said on her way to the kitchen.

When she returned to her bedroom, he had flopped onto his back and his eyes were closed. His breathing was soft and even. She sighed again and set the glass of water on the night table next to him before walking back to the end of the bed to remove his shoes.

He stirred as she was sliding the first one off. "If you wanted me naked ya just had to ask," he mumbled sleepily. Reilly rolled her eyes and told him to shut up and moved on to the other shoe. "Go on rollin' your eyes like that, Darlin', they're goin' to roll right out your head. Think I don't see ya doin' it but I do. Ya play like you're all shy but you can be a right bitch when you're angry," he rambled.

Her eyes narrowed at his words, unsure if she had heard him correctly though his slurring. "Okay, Drunky McDrunkerson." She dropped his shoe on the floor and walked back to the side of the bed. "You really should be on your side or stomach so you don't choke on your vomit," she said. She thought about trying to reposition him, but didn't. Instead, she leaned over him to grab the pillows on the other side of the bed. "I'll be on the couch. Just make a sound like you're dying if you need something."

His hand closed around her slender arm before she could get what she was reaching for, while his other one found its way to her back. Sparks shot through her body as he awkwardly pulled her small frame toward him. "Niall," she groaned when she landed on top of him. Her slippers fell off in the process and her feet were hit with a shock of cold.

"Stay here with me," he mumbled into her hair. "I'll sleep better."

It didn't seem worth the argument. She was tired from being woken up and her feet were cold. There was no reasoning with him in his drunken stupor. She gave in reluctantly. "Fine, but let go." He obliged after a moment, and she tossed the blankets back before sliding off him and onto the bed. The blankets on his side were already thrown back from when she'd gotten out of bed. She sat up to cover him, and then laid down and rolled onto her side, facing away from him as she pulled the blankets up over her shoulder to her chin.

The bed shifted next to her and he snaked his arm over her side and across her across her waist. Her heart fluttered inexplicably and in spite of her irritation. He didn't hold her tightly, or move extremely close to her, but he was close enough that the heat radiating off his body warmed her. She hadn't even realized how cold she'd gotten until then.

"This better? You wanted me on my side," he mumbled into her hair. His hot breath ticked her scalp.

"Just go to sleep, Niall," she said, trying to hide her annoyance for the first time since she'd opened the door for him.

He breathed in deeply. "Smell nice," he commented and then pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. Reilly sighed and closed her eyes.

Light was peeking in through her curtains when she woke again. At some point during the night Niall had let go and rolled to the other side of the bed. Her phone was in between the two sets of pillows. She reached for it and found, as usual, it was ten minutes before her alarm was set to go off. She turned off the alert, and carefully slid out of bed.

She moved silently around the room, thankful for the ability the years of ballet had given her. As she was putting her slippers on, she noticed the glass of water on the night table was empty and smirked to herself.

When the doorbell rang a little over an hour later, she was showered, dressed, and cooking breakfast. She ran over and pulled open the door, revealing a fresh faced Harry. He kissed her on the cheek as he walked in.

"I thought we were going out for breakfast?" he asked, taking in a deep breath and savoring the smell of the eggs, bacon, and potatoes she was cooking.

"We are," she said, returning to the kitchen. "This is for Drunky McDrunkerson."

A confused look crossed Harry's face. "Hmm?" he inquired. As if on cue, Niall padded into the kitchen. "Ah. Alright. I see what's happened here," the curly haired boy said suggestively. "Should I leave so you two can enjoy 'the morning after' in peace?"

"Mornin' Harry, Reilly," Niall greeted cheerfully, despite his sleepy and disheveled appearance. "Smells incredible."

Reilly's face had tinted pink. "It's not even like that," she said to Harry as she turned off the stove. She transferred the food from the pan, along with some toast, to a plate and picked up a mug of tea she'd prepared. Niall had taken a seat at the table. "Feeling alright?" she asked him as she set his breakfast down in front of him.

"Feelin' fantastic. Slept great. Thanks for lettin' me crash," he said enthusiastically, taking the fork she held out to him. "And thanks for the food. I'm starvin'."

Reilly stared at Niall as though he was a three headed monster. Not long before he had been smashed, slurring, and unsteady on his feet. But after a few hours of sleep he was almost annoyingly chipper. After a long moment, she spun around to face Harry. "Ready?" she asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "I really feel like I'm intruding here."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Shut up," she said, though her cheeks were turning pink once again. Niall's words from the night before about rolling her eyes popped into her head unexpectedly and the tint deepened. She looked over her shoulder at the blond boy. "We're going now. If you leave before I get back, just lock the door from the inside?" she said. He nodded in response and lifted his hand in a lazy wave.

She turned back to Harry and accepted the arm he offered her, linking her own through his. They looked ridiculous, she assumed, with Harry being so tall and her being only barely five-foot-three. But she didn't much care. While she had been thankful to have some time to herself and her studies, she hadn't realized until that moment how much she'd missed having friends around.

They had walked nearly a block when Harry piped up. "You're really not going to tell me what that was all about?" he asked.

Reilly just shrugged. "Not much to tell," she said. "He showed up wasted at some god forsaken hour begging for a place to sleep. So I let him. That's what friends do, right?" she asked.

"Well, sure," Harry said, looking down at her. He waited until she looked up and caught his gaze. "But you know he fancies you?" he asked. She tore her eyes away and unlooped her arm from his. "Come on, Reilly. Don't be like that. You must know how he feels about you," he said seriously.

She didn't want to talk about it, though. "You and Louis really need to stop this," she said. Harry shot a confused glance in her direction. Though, if she was being honest, she wasn't sure if he was actually confused, as he tended to have that look about him often. "He's told me that he doesn't have feelings for me," she qualified.

"He did?" Harry asked.

Suddenly this conversation was feeling like the one she'd had with Louis after the Olly Murs concert. "Well," she conceded. "It's more that he didn't say he has feelings for me when I asked," she told him.

"You asked him that?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Not point blank," she said, and briefly explained the conversation she'd had with Niall weeks before. "But it doesn't matter, anyway. I don't have time for a relationship. I barely have time to be friends with you guys," she said, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

Harry seemed to pick up on her subtle hint and didn't push to continue the conversation he'd attempted to start. "I don't know. I think you do alright," he said.

A big grin slid across his face as she linked her arm though his once again. She smiled as well. It was really nice to have the boys back home.