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Niall meets Harry on a Friday night. Inside is warm and crowded, typically like pubs tend to be, hype and lively to celebrate the start of a new weekend. There's a feeling that Niall can't quite pinpoint sitting heavily on his chest, the stale taste of the beer he's been drinking all night fresh on his tongue, cool as it washes down his throat. Niall's palms tingle when Harry slides his right hand into his very own, when a warm smile slowly spreads its way across the brunet's face, when the green of Harry's eyes glisten like sunlight on water underneath the dull pub lights. Niall feels a bit brand new as the two shake hands, feels a chill run up his spine when he hears the deep drawl of Harry's voice as he greets him with a polite hello. Niall watches the way the tip of Harry's tongue presses up against his two front teeth when he speaks, hopes Harry doesn't notice the way he stares back at him almost as if he cannot look away. A subtle but ever so present flush of pink taints the skin on his cheeks when Harry smirks at him, a tiny crooked smile that has the blond hooked before he even realizes what's happening. It almost feels kind of impossible not to be transfixed be someone like Harry; how could you not?
It doesn't take long for things between Niall and Harry to fall into place. Their other friends are quickly forgotten in the background, lost within the music that plays loudly around them, the chatter that fills their ears, the heat of the air that surrounds their bodies. They're lost in their own little world, sitting in a booth near the back of the building that their friends once occupied along with them; Niall's smile is easy, his laughs effortless whenever Harry speaks. Harry's green eyes never leave blue, not once, their knees knocking underneath the table, and Niall tries not to visibly shudder when he feels a hand resting gently on top of his thigh—it's so easy. It's so easy to fall into place when it comes to Harry, which is quite comical seeing as they only met each all but an hour ago. Niall feels good, feels at peace in the presence of Harry, in the presence of newly cut (as Harry let slip out in the midst of their small talk; he'd even shown Niall pictures of himself on his phone when his hair was still long and he felt like a true rockstar with waves flowing down his back) brunet hair, of vibrant pink lips, of perfectly aligned white teeth.
Harry buys them two more rounds of beer before he finds himself crowding into Niall's space, hand at the side of his waist now, leaning over and breathing breathily into the blond's ear, "Come back to mine?"
And Niall finds it difficult to say no, doesn't even let the question fully settle into his brain before he's nodding yes, before he gulps loudly, but luckily the noise is drowned out by the loudness that fills the room. Harry's grin is bright and wide when he gets Niall's consent. His heart is on overdrive, though, it feels when Harry tugs at his hand, when Harry laces their fingers together like they're just meant to be, when Harry lets their friends know that they'll be heading out for the night, when they all send them knowing glances and suggestive thumbs up as they watch the two of them leave.
Niall's face is practically burning by the time they make it outside, and thank god for the cool breeze that brushes by, that helps him calm down for a bit. Only a little while, though. He's back to internally freaking out—because, for one, Harry is hot as hell, obviously, and honestly he just can't get over the fact at all, and two, Harry is definitely, totally, way out of Niall's league, but it's okay because Niall doesn't think he's ever going to come across an opportunity like this so he's going to to take it and run and he's never going to look back—when he realizes what exactly is happening, what's going to happen from here on out. He's not scared, no. Things like this don't necessarily scare him at all, even if Harry is a tad bit intimidating, he's not scared. Maybe he's just nervous over all. He hasn't done anything like this in a while, hasn't agreed to go back home with anyone since god knows when—it suddenly all feels new to him. He'll be okay, though, he thinks. He likes Harry so far. Actually, he likes him a lot, and if that isn't enough to make him feel as if everything will be alright, he's not sure what else it would take.
Niall's fingers are still loosely tangled in between Harry's while the brunet orders them both a taxi. Niall finds himself staring at their hands clasped together, grinning to himself like an actual idiot without even realizing it. His heart feels like it's been set ablaze when Harry catches his eye, when he smiles down at him so sweetly with his phone pressed up against his ear and rubs his thumb across the back of Niall's knuckles before he glances away again and goes back to focusing on the road ahead of them.
Harry lets Niall into the car first once it arrives. They sit close together in the back, as close as they possibly can without their seat belts getting in the way. Harry, being the charmer that Niall's come to learn that he is, chats with their driver for a bit, and Niall watches on with fond blue eyes and butterflies fluttering in the pit of his stomach and a feeling that makes him feel as though he's known Harry his entire life. In actuality, it's only been about a little over a hour, but boy does it feel like a lifetime. It's so easy, he finds himself thinking, it's so easy to fall into place with someone like Harry. Easier than he's ever known.
It's when Harry tells him that they've almost made it to his place that Niall asks him. He tries to keep his tone, his facial expression, as innocent as possible, but knowing him it probably comes off the complete opposite. Oh well—he's never been much of a flirter anyway. Harry on the other hand, he seems to be quite good at it. Niall can't help but feel a little jealous; Harry just seems to be good at everything, really. It isn't fair.
"What will we be doing at your place?" Niall asks, eyes flickering back and forth between Harry's own and the brightness of his full lips. He wonders how they'd feel pushed up against his. Nice, he bets. Better than ever, probably.
It's a silly question, though, because of course he already knows the answer to it. But it doesn't hurt to be a tease sometimes. Sometimes it comes in handy.
"We're going to play scrabble." Harry says with a hint of sarcasm and a wink that Niall only brushes off with a loud cackle and a roll of his eyes. The corner of Harry's mouth is still lifted as he shrugs a shoulder, as he quirks an eyebrow, but he says nothing more.
Harry's place is nice when they finally arrive. He lives on the third floor of his building, high up above, with a perfect view of the city below. It's bright and open when he leads Niall inside. Niall finds himself admiring the area while Harry works on locking the door behind him. He can't wait to see more of Harry's home, can wait to see how everything else is decorated, what else there is to see, but his thoughts are soon interrupted when Harry leads him over to the sofa in the center of the living room. Niall doesn't question him when Harry tells him to take a seat, to make himself comfortable, so Niall does. He sits down on top of black leather, removing the denim jacket draped across his shoulders as he does so. Harry sends one last perfect smile his way before he's off, heading in the opposite direction and exiting the room for the time being.
Niall's heart is in his throat as he waits for Harry to come back. He's not nervous, no, but the way his palms start to sweat tell him otherwise. He makes sure to wipe his hands on the front of his jeans, makes sure to take a deep breath in and out to calm the nerves he claims not to have down. Just as he told himself before, he'll be okay. Tonight, he hopes, will be just fine.
There's a frown that makes its way onto Niall's face the second he notices Harry coming back into view. His frown quickly turns upside down once he takes a look at what Harry holds in his hands, and just like that he can't stop himself, can't stop the laughs that leave his mouth, the way his eyes start to crinkle at the sides all of a sudden. "Oh my God." He mutters in between loud, boisterous cackles that have him throwing his head back until it lands on the couch behind him, that have him clutching at his stomach to try and keep it all in.
An effortless smile spreads across Harry's face, and sure enough, as Niall's eyes spring open once again, there Harry is standing before him, setting a box with the word 'Scrabble' printed on the front and a couple bottles of beer down on the see through coffee table placed in front of his sofa. What the fuck.
Wow. This certainly isn't what Niall was expecting to be faced with when Harry had asked him to come back with him at the pub. He certainly didn't think Harry was being serious when he told him they were going to play Scrabble in the taxi either, but Niall can't even be mad at all. He's not even an inch disappointed in the turn of events come to think of it. He can't even believe his own thoughts right now. What a night it's been already.
"I take it you weren't expecting me to be serious about this, no?" Harry questions around a proud grin. How can Niall be mad at a smile like that? He's pretty sure that much is impossible.
"Not at all." Niall continues to chuckle, running a hand through his roots and shaking his head as if that'll get rid of the thoughts currently circulating through his mind. It doesn't.
"Well," Harry starts off once again, "there's two things you should know about me Niall, for future reference of course: I am a man of my word and I'm not really one to mess around on the first night, believe it or not. I hope that's alright with you."
Surprisingly, it's definitely more than. Niall doesn't even mind.
"It is." Niall nods once like it's a matter of fact. "Of course it is, Harry."
"Really?"
"Mhm." Niall smiles. It's just so easy. "Now are we gonna play or what?"
The smile Harry sends Niall's makes him have to turn away before his heart leaps straight out of his chest and jumps right into the palms of Harry's hands. He blushes like it's his job to do so, hiding his face away with the curve of his shoulder, and just hopes that Harry hadn't witnessed that at all.
"Just so you know," Harry perks up after Niall tries to convince himself that he doesn't notice the way Harry smirks at him and the way his cheeks have flushed a whole new color. "I'm kind of like the king of playing scrabble so just be prepared. You've been warned."
"We'll see about that." Niall tries to be cocky, but deep down he knows Harry's probably right. He kind of sucks at playing games, but he's ace at drinking beers, and that's all that really matters to him at the moment. "We'll see."
***
Harry's kind of beautiful, Niall finds. And not that he hadn't noticed before, because of course he had, even a blind man could see that, it's just a lot more obvious now. Especially when Harry smiles, especially when he laughs, all big and wide and brighter now that he's no longer underneath the dull fluorescence of the pub's light. Niall could blame it on the beer as to why his skin feels like it's literally buzzing, as to why his stomach feels all bubbly, as to why he feels so good all around, but he knows that has nothing to do with it. Knows it could only be Harry that has him feeling such a way. He hasn't felt like this in such a long time. And it's only been one night, of course, only been a few hours since he and Harry first laid eyes on each other, but it's true and Niall couldn't deny it even if he tried.
He's not sure how or why it's so easy between the two of them, but it is. Niall doesn't have to think when it comes to Harry; he doesn't have to think, doesn't have to worry, doesn't have to do anything really, and that's the thing, that's what he supposes he likes best about Harry so far. There's no room to be nervous with him. There's no room to be scared, to worry about whether or not they'll get on, whether or not this could grow into something more if it came down to that. There's absolutely no room especially when Harry's quickly filling up Niall's space with his charm and his smile and his looks and his wonderful personality—with his everything.
They talk about any and everything underneath the sun, and again, Niall's back to feeling like Harry has been in his life forever rather than only a few hours. They get to know each other in between sips of beer that's gotten a bit warm since they've been doing more talking than they have drinking. Niall hasn't laughed as much as he has tonight, hasn't smiled this much or felt this good in such a long time, and it's great. He enjoys meeting new people from time to time, and now he can't help but feel a little grateful that he happened to meet Harry tonight. It feels too good to be true somehow, but Niall won't question a single thing.
Just like Harry had warned Niall before they started playing, he ends up winning both rounds of Scrabble that they've played. Niall insisted that they go another round after the first one since he was convinced that Harry had only won because of 'first time charm,' or so he claims, but after he lost the second, he started to believe that maybe Harry hadn't been lying like he originally thought he had in the first place. "See, I told you." Harry ends up shrugging, smug as ever. "I am the Scrabble king."
"It was the beer." Niall tries to explain, but both he and Harry know it's all nonsense. "Put me off my game."
"Is that so?" Harry purses his lips. "Maybe you just don't know how to play, ever thought about that?"
Niall squints, feigning offended. "I know how to play." He pouts.
"Okay. Well then, perhaps you just suck?"
"Now that, Harry, is a different story for another time." Niall just hopes he doesn't look too crazy when he tries to give Harry a wink.
Eventually, the game of scrabble is long forgotten along with the half empty bottles of room temperature beers left upon Harry's coffee table. Niall finds himself staring at the way Harry's lips curve when he talks again as they sit side by side of the dark sofa with Harry's sock covered toes tucked underneath Niall's thigh, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the loose thread sticking out of the hole above Niall's knee. Harry ends up asking about the dark scar that etches Niall's skin, pointer finger tracing along the mark that makes quick shivers run up his spine. Niall tells Harry about the surgery he had to undergo after a pretty bad mishap with his knee all the while his eyes stay glued to the pink hue of Harry's lips, the way his tongue darts out every now and then to wet the surface, the way he begins to smirk just like he knows exactly what Niall is currently thinking about, which has the blond looking away in the end to save himself the embarrassment.
"I should get going..." Niall trails off hesitantly after a while. It's getting late, later than he typically tends to stay out. And it's not that he necessarily wants to leave, because he doesn't, but he's not exactly sure he should—or could—stay. He makes sure to avoid Harry's gaze when he says it so that he doesn't have to see the look on Harry's face when he agrees with him, when he ends up sending Niall on his way.
What he gets in response takes him by surprise. He hears Harry start to chuckle a bit underneath his breath, so soft that Niall isn't sure if he heard the sound or not. He had, though, and when he finally matches Harry's emerald gaze again, there's a very apparent smile etched onto his face that doesn't seem like it will be going away any time soon. "You can stay, Niall. I mean, if you'd like to, you don't have to go."
"Yeah?" Both of Niall's eyebrows raise to the very top of his head. His stomach starts to tingle with those familiar butterflies that he's been feeling all night long. "You sure? I don't want to..."
"Like I said, I'm a man of my word. Besides, I kind of like you and I'd like for you to stay the night. Is that okay?"
"You like me..." Niall repeats, a little in disbelief. Actually, it's not that hard to believe, but Niall's still not sure why someone like Harry would be remotely interested in someone like him. It doesn't make sense in Niall's head. He just doesn't get it, but he'll take Harry's word for it. He has been right this whole time anyway, hasn't he?
"I don't just bring anyone home, Niall." Harry jokes. Niall huffs out a laugh.
Harry offers to let Niall sleep in his bed for the night while he takes the sofa, but Niall doesn't want to intrude. He's just a guest in Harry's home for the time being, feels a little weird sleeping in someone else's bed while they're not in it, but he doesn't want to suggest something that might humiliate him. Harry seems very adamant on not sharing the same bed so Niall decides that it'd be best to keep his mouth shut. He still insists that he take the sofa, though. It only feels right.
"It's fine, Niall, really." Harry maintains, sticking to his word, which only forces Niall to agree with him in the end. "I sleep in my bed every night. One night out of it isn't going to hurt me."
It's Harry who gets the final word, but of course it is. Niall's convinced that one look in his eyes could persuade just about anyone if it came down to it. Harry lends him some clothes to borrow (which are a tad too big for him but Niall kind of likes that) and after they've both gotten changed, they spend a little while longer talking and teasing and joking around like they have been all night with each other. They're like magnets in a way, like it's impossible for them to stay away from each other without being pulled towards one another in the end. Niall doesn't mind, though. He knows it hasn't been long, either, but he can't help but feel something there, something between the two of them that he just can't explain.
Thirty minutes pass, and Niall's not sure when he and Harry laid down next to each other, side by side, when their fingers began to graze against the other's, when their smiles became a bit more private and their eyes became glued together in the middle. It makes him smile to himself a bit, makes his insides flutter when he realizes just how easy they seem to get along, just how much chemistry there is between them. And he's not old, he's not old at all, but being with Harry like he has been tonight makes him feel young, makes him feel like he's back in grade school again and pining over his first ever crush just like he used to back then. He likes it, though. It feels good. Feels so, so good.
Much to his disappointment, Harry wishes Niall a goodnight soon enough and that's all there is to it before Harry's pulling himself out of his bed and heading out of his room, but not before he leaves a short but sweet kiss upon Niall's cheek. That's all Niall gets, unfortunately, but he's okay with the outcome. His cheek feels like it's on fire now and his heart feels heavy with admiration in the middle of his chest, and Niall revels in the feeling, lets it all soak in like sunshine on skin because this is the best he's felt in a while and he doesn't want to forget it.
And even though this hadn't been the night that Niall originally expected, he's not even a tad bit disappointed when he thinks about it. He's fine knowing that nothing happened between him and Harry, that it probably won't anytime soon either, but that's okay. He's fine with that, he doesn't mind. To him, this is a whole lot better than getting fucked by a stranger anyway. Well, that's probably debatable, but still. For now, Niall's pretty content. He wouldn't have had this night turn out any other way.
He falls asleep with the thought of Harry present on his mind and faint smile on his face.
***
Niall wakes up disoriented for a moment. The sun is shining way too bright for his liking through the curtains on the other side of the room, and the bed he's currently lying in is far too big for him to be sleeping in it on his own. That's when he remembers where he is, who's bed this is, and what all went on before he shut his eyes and let sleep overcome him the previous night. He groans softly to himself, laughs a little bit when he thinks back to last nights comical turn of events, stretching his limbs out and holding in the moan that threatens to escape as he does so. His eyes are still heavily lidded with sleep so he brings a hand up to rub at his eyes in order to remove the drowsiness that's been left behind. He lays in bed a bit longer, admiring the room around him and letting the feeling of him being huddled up underneath Harry's bedsheets settle in.
Eventually, the smell of food captures his attention, and that's enough to make him get up and slip out of bed. After stopping by the bathroom first to do his business and stealing an unused toothbrush from Harry as well, soon enough he's creeping his way into Harry's kitchen, a smile making its way onto his face, spreading across his lips without Niall even realizing it.
Harry's back is turned towards him, humming a song that's unknown to Niall under his breath while facing the stove he stands in front of. There's a loose fitting white t-shirt covering his torso that Niall is convinced has seen better days, the words 'hot n hard' printed in bold, orange lettering across the back. Niall almost snickers out loud once he reads it, but stops himself from doing so, prefers to stay hidden for a bit longer just so he can sit back and admire the piece of art that is also known as Harry right before him. It's a nice view, Niall thinks, from his side. A lean and fit body, nice pair of long legs that Niall's eyes just can't stray from, faded tattoos scattered randomly along the span of his arm that Niall's taken an unusual interest in for some reason he wouldn't be able to explain even if he tried. He doesn't even like tattoos like that, has never really been fond of them in any kind of way before, but seeing them on Harry makes Niall feel like he's liked them all along. Jesus, what has gotten into him lately?
"You know," Harry starts to say in a loud voice that catches Niall's attention all of a sudden and causes him to flinch in place where he's stood behind him. "Although I really appreciate it, it's not all that polite to stare, Niall."
And Niall's face reddens immediately, feels his whole body going hot with embarrassment, but he quickly retaliates, quirks an eyebrow and lifts his lip sarcastically before shooting back, "Obviously you enjoyed it then, yeah, since apparently you've known I was standing here the whole time."
"Touché." Harry laughs, like chimes whistling in the wind. He turns around for a split second, flashing a grin Niall's way as he looks back at him from over his shoulder before turning back around again and continuing on with what he's doing. His arm moves a bit, elbow twisting in and out like a bird's wings, and then he's reaching forward, turning off the stove before spinning around on his heels only to face Niall properly this time. There's still an effortless smile planted on his lips, the ones Niall spent countless amounts of times admiring last night, as he holds the pan in his hand over a plate and dumps its contents on top. A steaming hot pile of eggs joins pieces of toasted bread and a side of mixed fruits before Harry pushes the completed plate across the table until it ends up in front of Niall.
""I would've made you, like, some bacon or something but I hadn't realized I ran out." He says apologetically. For some reason, a reason unknown to the blond, Harry's words make Niall's heart want to leap right out of his chest. Since when has he ever been this pathetic when it came to another person before, especially one that he hasn't even known for an entire day at all either?
"S'okay," Niall shrugs—he's not that particular when it comes to food anyway. "Um. You're not going to eat?"
"No," Harry answers like it's nothing with a shake of his head. Niall finds it fascinating how his shirt curls just barely bounce with his movement. "I mean, I've already eaten. Sorry. I wake up at like six in the morning and I didn't want to wake you, so."
"Oh, um, that's fi—wait, did you just say you wake up at six?"
"Yeah?" Harry frowns like everyone in the world just happens to wake up at the ass crack of dawn every single day. Each to their own, he supposes, but him personally? There's absolutely no way in hell. "To run. I wake up to go run."
"You're mental, mate." Niall lets out a puff of air. Then he looks up to try and check Harry out, to run his eyes up and down the length of Harry's body in the slyest way possible just to remind himself just how fit Harry actually is, just like he remembers. He still doesn't understand why someone like Harry has shown interest in someone like him, but there's a lot of things out there Niall doesn't understand and maybe this is just something he's not meant to question. So he doesn't.
"So you're not an early bird?" Harry questions but mainly to himself.
"Nope," Niall answers anyway. "Not a chance."
"I can change that." Harry says like it's a challenge he's been waiting to accept, confident as ever just like he always seems to be; it leaves Niall a bit speechless.
And for the rest of the morning, as Harry's words sit at the back of Niall's mind, he just knows that it's true. Harry could definitely change that if he wanted to and Niall isn't even going to try and deny it. There'd be no point in doing so anyway, Harry's already got him so hooked already. He wonders if it'd be easy for him if he ever wanted to turn away.
(He highly doubts it.)
***
Niall leaves Harry on a Saturday morning. His mood has dwindled a bit since earlier, the thought of having to leave Harry fresh on his mind, a sinking kind of feeling settling deep in his bones, heavy in his heart. He tries not to show how disappointed he is that he has to leave, tries not to feel too bad because he got to spend the entire night and a bit of the morning with Harry, and when he thinks about it, that should be enough but it doesn't feel like it.
It actually kind of feels like the end, feels like this is the point that normal hooks ups get to, that they end at, the point where they see each other off and never see each other again. And Niall knows, he knows this wasn't a normal "hook up", that he and Harry hadn't done what other people normally do during times like these, and that helps put a little hope in his heart but it still feels like it's all over, like it's too good to be true.
Harry's eyes are impossibly green, greener than Niall remembers, as he stands in front of him. Niall's got his shoes on, jacket draped over his shoulders, ready to go, and Harry's got his eyes hooked on electric blue, got his hand on Niall's waist, has Niall's heart in shambles and his patience on the line, and—
"I had a really nice night." Harry smiles one of those smiles meant to be plastered all over billboards and on tv screens and in magazines for everyone to see, for everyone to wish they could have their lips upon his just one time. "I hope you did, too, even though I did manage to kick your ass in scrabble twice."
Niall snorts louder than he planned to. "Like I said," he replies, "it was the beer. Threw me off my game."
"Yeah?" Harry's smile widens. He leans in closer to Niall's body until they're nearly chest to chest, only centimeters left in between to separate them. "You're sticking with that?"
"Mhm," Niall hums instead since he's pretty sure he's lost all ability to speak what with how Harry is pressed up against him like he is now. He's surprised he's still breathing, really.
"You're cute." Harry mumbles lowly, his face only inches from Niall's. "I'm going to kiss you now, s'that okay?"
And yeah, fuck yeah it is, so Niall just nods, nods like the maniac he feels like he is inside and that's all there is to it before Harry surges forward, closes the last bit of distance between them by pressing his lips up against Niall's once and for all.
Harry kisses even better than he keeps company. He hums at the back of his throat, sounding a bit relieved as he does. His lips are soft and gentle moving against Niall's own; he pushes just a bit and he gets a little more back, fingers pressing themselves into the flesh of Niall's hip while he walks their bodies back until Niall's back ends up pushed up against the wall. It's so easy, just like it is when it comes to conversation, natural just like Harry with his flirting, effortless and everything Niall's ever wanted since the very moment they laid eyes on each other.
Niall lets his palms rest against Harry's chest, hard from the muscle underneath, until he slides his hands up and over Harry's shoulders, locking his fingers into place at the back of Harry's neck. Harry grunts a bit at that, breathes in a bit sharper, pushes into Niall a bit more like he's got nowhere else to go. Niall doesn't mind, though, just pulls Harry in closer, holds him tighter and kisses Harry like he's wanted to do all along. Like he expected he would before the whole board game thing came into play. He still doesn't mind that part, though, still wouldn't have had their night turn out any other way than the way that it did.
And they kiss for god knows how long, they kiss until Harry pulls away, until he lets his forehead fall against Niall's and whispers promises of seeing each other again across Niall's lips one last time. Niall's skin tingles, chills run up and down his spine just like they did at first handshake, and he tries to keep himself from counting down the days until he can see Harry again.
There's a few more kisses shared between the two, simple presses of the lips before Harry's opening the front door for Niall and the blond is seeing his way out just like he kind of dreaded doing the entire morning he's been here.
It's when Niall's making his way out of Harry's building and making his way towards the cab that he ordered for himself that he thinks of Harry's words, that he recalls Harry's promises to him about them meeting up again. He frowns, mentally scolds himself because how could they possibly do that without having exchanged numbers before they left? "Shit." Niall hisses out quietly, shaking his head and sighing as he runs a frustrated hand through the darkened roots at the top of his head.
When Niall finally makes it back home, he's in a worse mood than he was before as he sulked in the backseat of his taxi all alone, feeling awfully sad for himself and maybe even a little embarrassed, too. He mopes around like a sick puppy, drags himself into his room and throws his body on top of his bed, only to sulk some more and feel like an even bigger idiot now that he's alone, now that he thinks back to what's just happened.
He sighs as he goes to remove the jacket he's currently still wearing, tugs it off of his body and carelessly tosses the material to the side once it's completely off. In the midst of it all, he hears a sound of something falling to the floor with a soft clatter. Again, he sighs, rolling his eyes as well as his body until he's peering over the side of the bed to investigate whatever it is that's just fallen out of his pocket. It's his phone, he quickly realizes, lying facedown on the ground, not far from his reach. He goes to grab it, noticing no new notifications whenever he unlocks it. He doesn't mind necessarily, but then he starts to think about how he could've been texting Harry right about now or something if he just would've remembered to ask for his number. Maybe he'll ask one of their mutual friends later on, either way he's going to end up with Harry's number no matter what.
He goes to fetch for his keys that he stuffed into his pockets as well afterwards because if he doesn't do it now he knows he'll forget about them and have trouble looking for them later on whenever he needs them, just like he always does. Seriously, he'd think that he'd learn by now but apparently not.
As soon as Niall pulls his keys out, a flash of something white appears in his peripheral vision, catching his eye immediately. He doesn't remember stuffing anything else into his pocket, doesn't remember bringing anything else along with him last night other than his keys, his phone, and his wallet. Niall stretches an arm outward, making a move to pick up the tiny piece of paper that fluttered from the safety of his pocket.
Niall's heart starts to race a million miles per second it seems once he realizes what it is that he holds in his hand. His heart picks up and his hands start to feel all clammy and his jaw kind of drops and—holy shit. He's not really one to believe in miracles or fate or anything crazy like that, but as soon as he notices the way Harry's phone number is neatly scrawled onto the piece of torn paper in dark black ink, as soon as he takes in the simple message scribbled nearly underneath the ten digits, he starts to feel like maybe he does actually believe in stuff like that after all.
And his smile is wide, cheeks so high upon his face that the muscles start to sting. His heart feels a lot heavier in the center of his chest, his mind racing, running so wild that he couldn't possibly keep up even if he wanted to. It's a nice feeling, though. He hasn't felt this way about another person in so long, and he knows it hasn't been that much time that's passed since he and Harry first met, but that's the thing: everything just feels right.
Niall takes one last glance down at the piece of paper he holds between his fingertips, takes notice of the uncontrollable fluttering of his heart, and lets a content sigh fall from his lips. And for the rest of the day he thinks of nothing else but brunet curls and impossibly green eyes and vibrant pink lips, and god, he can't think of anything else better. There's no one else like Harry in Niall's eyes, and now that he's had a taste of him, there's absolutely no way he could possibly turn back. He wouldn't want to anyway, he wouldn't even try.