Over the Hills and Far Away

I wish it was true that when someone woke up from a deep sleep, they woke up super stoked about the day and couldn’t wait to drink coffee, eat a bagel and skip off into the sunlight, whistling their favorite tune while their day started. But that was not the case. Well at least for me.

Reaching out my arm to hit the alarm clock that rested on the floor next to my mattress, I slowly pulled the blankets off. Groaning softly, I sat up, the blankets pooling around my waist as I stretched my arms up and yawned only to groan even more as my head started pounding.

“Fuck…..” I pressed the heels of both of my hands to my forehead as I brought my knees up to meet my bare chest. Looking down, I was quick to notice small love-bites that littered my chest. Only then did I realize what had happened the night before. Once more, I cursed under my breath as another wave of the pounding headache passed through before I looked at the other side of my queen sized mattress. And low and behold, laid a sleeping dyed blond haired man. His face was turned towards the wall, but I could hear light snoring coming from him.

This is what I get for going out with Hailey and Maria to the local pub for “one” drink. A fucking pounding headache and a stranger in my damn bed!

Deciding that I was going to get dressed, have a cup of coffee to mull things over then wake up snoring beauty, I slowly, because of my pounding head, got up from the mattress that laid on the floor and moved to my closet, grabbed a hanging blouse with black slacks then moved to my dresser grabbing out a black set of bra and panties before heading out to the bathroom. Taking those 20 steps from my bed then to the bathroom felt like the longest 20 steps I had ever taken. Locking the bathroom door behind me, I stared into the large bathroom mirror at myself. I didn’t count myself to be beautiful, but I wasn’t a plain Jane either. I had what I thought to be a pretty face. I had a tan complexion, freckles that adorned a small nose, almost almond shaped eyes that couldn’t decide to be blue or grey in color and pale pink lips that seemed as if they couldn’t decide to be plump or thin. The only problem I ever had with my appearance was my hair. The disorderly mop that was called hair that rested on my head was a sandy-blonde color with tresses that came down to my shoulders.

Like most women’s hair, mine had a mind of its on most days. Today happened to be one of those days. My seemingly unmanageable hair this morning, took on the role of playing Carrot Top’s hair. Groaning in frustration, I pulled out my hair straightener, turned it on and went at my hair with a comb and brush
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After 45 minutes, with straightened hair and an outfit on, I walked out of the bathroom and straight to the kitchen, immediately starting up my coffee machine. It was one of those ones that made 12 cups in almost no time. I had received it as a new-apartment present.

Sitting at the breakfast bar a while later after taking some Aspirin and downing half a cup of coffee, I finally decided to go wake up my guest.

“What should I put in the coffee?” I asked myself out loud, not having a clue to what the naked man in my bed liked in it. Settling on putting nothing into the cup of coffee, I grabbed a few Aspirin and headed into my bedroom, stopping in the door way as I watched the man that was once sleeping in my bed pull up a pair of khaki colored pants. Just from where I stood, I could see the muscle definition in his back and muscle.

He must have sensed me because he turned around and glanced up at me, a shy smile crossing his, what seemed to be, perfect lips.

“Morning…” He spoke with an Irish accent. That wasn’t surprising seeing as I lived in Ireland now. “I thought you had left or something so I was going to get dressed and leave,” He raised his hand and awkwardly rubbed the back of his head before he noticed the Aspirin in my open hand and then pointed at them in the same awkward manner. “Are those for me?”

“Wha—oh, yeah, I thought you’d have just as bad as a migraine as I did so um…yeah” I took a few steps into my bedroom, holding out the meds then the black coffee. “Also, I made coffee… But I didn’t know what you took in it, so I left out cream and sugar.”

“I like it plain anyways… Thank you,” graciously; the blond-dyed man took both from me, leaving me to drop my hands awkwardly back to my sides. I watched him as he tipped the aspirin into his mouth then brought the cup to his lip and took a few sips of the coffee. I couldn't help but look him over while he took his time sipping at the hot coffee. He was muscular, tan and wasn't much like the other guys I brought home. I could tell just from his actions that he was much different than the jackasses I’ve spent the night with before. Tapping his fingers on the coffee cup, he looked around uncomfortably before setting his sky blues back on me. “So, uh yeah, thanks again for the coffee. As soon as the Aspirin kicks in, I’ll grab my stuff and leave, unless…” He stopped, giving me a hopeful smile. I knew that smile. It was a smile that meant he wanted to stick around, get to know me and the whole nine yards. Unluckily for him, I wasn’t the type of girl who’d fuck then maybe get to know names then fuck again; well not anymore I wasn’t.

I realized that I hadn’t answered him yet when he gave a small uneasy cough. “Oh, um…” Say no; stop looking at the small pack of abs. Remember what happened to you when you said yes to Derrick. “I have no plans today, how about we exchange numbers and meet up at a café.” What the fuck is wrong with you. I bet he doesn’t even know your name! “By the way, I’m Evan—“

“Evangeline,” He spoke up with a pleased grin. I couldn't help but love his smile. “You told me last night. I like the name by the way…It suits you.”

“Oh…um…right. I guess I did…” I was slowly starting to remember bits and pieces of the night before. Thank god it wasn’t a blackout, I suppose. “Forgive me… But I think I drank too much… What was your name again?”

His eyebrow rose up at the question of his name, but gave an easy smile as he spoke, “Its Niall. Niall Horan, from One Direction.”

Well fuck. No wonder he looked so fucking familiar. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck. My fucking luck!