Pretty Venom |N.H|

73

Niall Horan

August 14.

I love you.

What a simple phrase with such a heavy meaning.

Waking up with you in my arms will do something different to me every time, but it will always make me the happiest I have ever been.

Somehow, I have woken up before you again. Old me would have hated this. I would have hated being the first one up, because being the first person awake in the morning usually means that person is responsible for getting the day started. At least that's how it was for me growing up, and that's how it is with the band.

New me likes waking up before you. I like waking up and still feeling you pressed against me, your arms holding a loose, but tight enough grip on my body as you sleep. I like watching your chest rise and fall subtly. I can always tell you're sleeping calmly based on that.

You're wearing my shirt, my boxers, and your hair is still in the same half-up, half-down style that you had it in for the wedding. You told me once that you like when I dress down, wearing sweats, and you like when my hair is messy. I never really understood that, but I'm getting it now. There's something about the fact that you're wearing my clothes, yet your hair is done-up neatly that is driving me wild. It's not as neat as it was yesterday, but the contrast of the nice hairstyle with a t-shirt in boxers has me in awe.

My eyes are glued to your eyelashes. Just beneath them, there's a faint line of eyeliner that must not have come off when you washed your face last night. I'm starting to wonder if I have one similar to that on my face.

When you wake up, I miss moments like these. The moments where I can sit and stare at you without it being awkward or weird. I miss being in silence, observing you do such a normal thing. Somehow you make every normal thing seem so much more special than it would be on any other occasion.

Her grip on me loosens, and I can hear her take a deeper breath, signaling that she is awake now. Her hands move to find the mattress beneath us, using it to push herself up slightly.

She leans up, clearly looking tired and exhausted still.

"Mornin'," I say quietly.

She lifts a hand to her eyes, rubbing over one. I watch as she smears a bit of the eyeliner I had noticed before. "What are you doing up before me?"

"Not sure," I reply before licking my thumb and wiping off the makeup that she had smeared. "I just woke up. It's not crazy early or anything, so if anything, you're over here sleeping the day away while I wake up early. I could have been productive this morning, had you not forced me to stay put in bed while you trapped me here, holding me."

She laughs beneath her breath, shaking her head at me. "Yeah, I'll be sure to stay far away from you then."

"Very funny," I nod, squinting at her as I play into her game. "Do you like being mean to me?"

She shrugs weakly before falling back at my side. "It's kinda entertaining."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's just funny, because you know I'm kidding, but there's a sliver of you that is actually convinced I would keep myself away from you," she goes on, smiling at me as she notices my slight concern. "You know I can't, so stop pouting."

"I wasn't pouting," I mumble, but she's right, I probably was.

Her hands go over her face, rubbing her eyes again. Her shirt – my shirt, lifts up slightly, showing the lower part of her stomach. "Now that the wedding is over, what happens now?"