Niall Horan #Imagine

Imagine with Niall Horan for You,

You're walking down the street with a friend, who you're trying to start a band with. She's playing her guitar, eyes closed, and you're dancing around her, singing 'Look After You' by The Fray and not paying any attention to where you're going. she opens her eyes when the song ends, and smiles at you. Her expression suddenly changes. "(Y/N)! Look Out!" she cries, and you whirl around just in time to slam head-on into someone. You both fall over.

"My god, I'm so sorry!" You exclaim, just as he says. "Goodness, that was my fault. I'm sorry." Your apologies are simultaneous, which makes your heads jerk upwards to look at each other as you each stagger to your feet.

"Oh, no way!" You groan, head in your hands.

"What?" the boy questions, confused.

"You're Niall Horan!" You cry, and he nods, still unsure why this is a bad thing. "I always kinda fantasized about running into you on the street, but i never thought I'd actually RUN INTO YOU and knock you over ONTO THE STREET." You say, feeling your face get hot. He laughs.

"You needn't worry about it, love. Ahm..." he looks you over, and then looks at your friend, still standing behind you and holding her guitar. "Was that you, singing Look After You?" he asks, and you blush more, nodding. "You're very good." Niall smiles. "and you have wonderful taste in music." he looks around, and then grabs your arm, rolling up the sleeve of your hoodie and scrawling a phone number on your skin with a Sharpie he seemed to have pulled out of thin air. he pulls your sleeve back down to your wrist, hiding the ink. Niall kisses your hand before letting it drop to your side, and presses one finger to his lips, signaling you to tell nobody. He whispers in your ear. "Only when you're alone" in your ear, and leaves you on the sidewalk, staring incredulously at your friend.

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

You left your sweatshirt on all day, and only remembered about Niall's number right before you went to shower. You quickly dial the number on your cell phone, praying to god he hadn't miswritten it.

"Hello?" a familiar English voice answers. Your heart leaps.

"Niall? This is, ahm... This is Nicole. I er... ran into you on the street today. You wrote your number on my arm." Silence. "Niall? Do You remember?" There's more silence on the other end of the line, and then...

"Yes, I remember. I'm just... I'm extremely happy you called. I was beginning to fear you wouldn't use the number, my love.

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