Capture My Heart (BK3: Niall Horan)

-Ch 42: Old Mates on Dates.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: Old Mates on Dates.

Ashley Dawson:

“So what did you think?” Niall asked, a certain pitch of sing-song in voice. I watched him as he lapped up the pool of melted ice cream that was situated at the bottom of his bowl. Clanging the spoon against the china repeatedly as he tried to get every last drop on a one-way ticket to his mouth.

“It was good,” I began, fumbling for more advanced adjectives that could be used to describe fish and chips. “Your chips were a little overdone, but overall, eight out of ten.”

He looked up at me after he finished his ice cream, dropping the spoon back into the bowl it clanged for the last time. “You can’t deduct two whole points for slightly overdone chips; you should be appreciating the fact that I put the charred ones in the bin!”

“There were charred ones? Jesus Niall how long did you leave them in there for?” I narrowed my eyes at him as he sat very guiltily in his chair. It was not that he physically couldn’t cook, he could, he could cook well when he wanted to, but sometimes he got lazy and distracted and tended to make mistakes. This was clearly one of those times.

“I dunno, ‘bout forty minutes? I got distracted.” He defended, waving his hands as if swatting away his mistakes, excusing them.

I found a smug smile creeping at the right corner of my mouth. It was kind of nice that he’d made an effort to cook for me, and I didn’t really care that he’d messed it up a little, after all – it was the thought that counted. “What did you get distracted by?”

He shrugged. “Dunno, really. There was the football at one point, then when that finished I was tryna’ find the highlights of this morning’s game but I couldn’t so that wasted ‘bout ten minutes of my life. Then Harry rang me and asked if I wanted to go play golf, and I said no because one: I don’t know where my clubs are, and two: I wasn’t going to cancel on you to beat him when I know I will anyway.”

“Well,” I breathed, folding my hands in my lap. “Sounds like you had quite an eventful hour.”

He nodded, averting his gaze from me briefly before returning it. “Yeah, so tell me, was your morning eventful? With the plumber, I mean.”

I looked at him for a second, quirking an eyebrow as I silently questioned what kind of inquiry that was. “Um, not really? Why would it have been? He came here, fixed the boiler and went. Why are you asking me this?”

He shifted around in seat a little, his eyes falling upon the small amount of batter on my plate I had not consumed. Without hesitation he reached forward and plucked it from the disc, shoving it into his mouth. “Because,” he stifled thorough his chewing, and I rolled my eyes at his table manners. Although when he swallowed it and spoke again he did not have a continuation upon this because. “Was he good looking?”

“What?” I scoffed, almost choking on my drink that I hastily placed back down onto the table.

“Was he good looking?” Niall repeated. “Ya’ know, handsome, was he more handsome than me?”

“I don’t-“

“He wants you to call him, babe.” He cut my words short, bringing a piece of paper out of his pocket and placing it on the table. I glanced down to it, scrawled in a boyish handwriting was a phone number, followed by the words ‘call me sometime, babe x’. I looked back up at Niall, raising my eyebrows awkwardly.

“Where was this?” I asked, pushing it back to him. He did not touch it, though.

“On the worktop, by the kettle. I was tempted to call him myself, advise him where to take you to dinner and tell him what you’ll probably order. See if he got the hint, but he did fix my boiler, so I didn’t.”