epilogue: interview?

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FOUR MONTHS LATER

NIALL

Squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them again to will the sleep away, Niall Horan wearily leans his elbows on the marble countertop, his chin propped on one of his palms as he yawns. The blonde keeps nodding off, waiting for his break to end already.

He still has three more hours to endure his shift at his part time job at the local coffee shop slash bakery, and breaks don't make it any easier. They just make him more drowsy. And it doesn't help that he didn't get a good night's sleep. The only thing he's looking forward to is that tomorrow is a Sunday, and he catch up on his precious sleep accumulated in the torturous week.

The bakery is almost always empty at noon, when everyone is at work. Their busiest hours are in the morning which Niall has survived, and in the evening when his shift is long over. Niall doesn't even bake, he applied for this job for the free goodies and now works as the server and ocassional cashier.

Niall eyes his co-worker Allie who is done cleaning the countertop. The redhead shoots him a friendly smile which he wearily returns as she disappears into the back kitchen.

Niall closes his eyes yet again, leaning his head on his folded arms, groaning as he misses his bed.

Niall blinks his eyes open when the overhead bell dings, and perks up when he sees Harry enter, all flustered and carrying a bag stuffed with overflowing papers.

Niall curses himself for feeling a tad happier now that the bloke decided to drop by like he sometimes does. He is long over his crush on Harry, he has accepted it and wishes Zayn and Harry well because he can see they are both madly in love and honestly, Niall envies them. But he still hates how he feels a bit too happy when Harry pays him attention.

Niall smiles softly and stands upright when the curly haired boy approaches him, nervously smiling back a dimpled smile. He steps closer to the counter, but somehow looses his footing, and Niall instinctively reaches forward and grabs his arms to prevent him from falling.

When he is stable, Niall slowly pulls Harry closer by a firm grip on his arms so he won't fall again, the countertop between their torsos.

The green eyed lad suddenly looks up, and Niall's breath catches as their noses almost brush, just mere inches between their faces. Niall gulps as his grip on the lad's arms unconsciously tightens.

"N-niall-" he stutters, and Niall blinks out of his daze, and abruptly lets go of his arms.

"Uhh, sorry Harry! I was just- yeah, you're clumsy!" Niall rambles, stepping back now that the lad is on his feet, Niall's heart still beating fast at being in such close proximity with him.

The curly haired boy chuckles awkwardly, pushing his slipping glasses up his nose. "Yeah I know. And um, I'm not actually Harry. Probably should have mentioned that when I came in," he says, and Niall blinks when he notices he does have a higher voice than Harry and a slight British-American accent.

"Wait," Niall pauses, eyeing the gangly boy wrestling with his bag again, black rimmed glasses slipping off his nose. "Wait. You're Marcel, right?"

The boy looks up, blinking, then facepalms. "Fućk! Forgot to introduce myself again. Hi, I'm Marcel Styles, who also has the pleasure of being Harry Styles' twin brother," he says, rolling his eyes as he shakes Niall's hand, a blush creeping up the Irish lad's cheeks as he chuckles.

"Nice t' meet ya too. Harry mentioned you loads of times, but never said a twin. I thought he had a younger brother," Niall says, and Marcel snorts, shaking his head as he raises a finger, then digs into his stuffed bag again. Niall observes how Marcel's style is different from his brother's.

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