His neck twists away from the sandwiches he had just completed and plated for dinner to the door, his foot halting its tapping on the tiled ground of the kitchen. Is this what you felt like waiting for him to come home after hearing he was working late, he wonders? The door creaking open calling attention to his ears, and he finds himself beaming at the sound of your shoes shuffling off of your feet by the door.
"Hey Ni, I'm--" you freeze at the doorway of the kitchen, already spotting Niall at attendance by the stovetop with a large grin adorning his face. "What're you doing?"
"I thought I'd cook for you, you look like you've had a hard day." He shrugs. Your eyes go wide with a thrill at the news, complemented by a hearty growl from your stomach.
"Thank you." You slam your purse down onto the kitchen counter, making a bee-line towards the sandwiches with a ravenous gaze in your eyes. "It was so crazy today I hardly sat down."
After your hasty explanation, your mouth occupied itself with a sizable amount of the turkey and swiss creation. You moaned at the impeccable taste and continued scarfing it down without a second thought. Amidst your chewing, Niall bit back a smile while admiring the crumbs making a home on either corner of your lips, as well as your eyelids shut in bliss.
It was only halfway through eating your sandwich that you realized you paid Niall almost no attention for the last few minutes. "Oh, um..." your eyes darted from the burrito up into his blue eyes, drowned in devotion just from the sight of you. "How was your day?"
Niall maintains a casual grin through his response, though his heart was thumping erratically through every word, barely able to express just how much he adored you.
"Better now that you're here."
"So, what'd you think of it?" Niall squeezes your hand as the two of you peruse the corridors of the dimly lit movie theatre. The aroma of buttered popcorn wafted into your nostrils as you continuously turned your gaze from the movie posters lining the walls and to your boyfriend's features. "It was pretty good." The shrug you delivered had Niall scoffing, seemingly offended by your response.
"Pretty good?" He mocks. "It was amazing."
"It'd be better if Tom Holland was in it." You comment, eyes drifting away from him once more to observe a cardboard cutout.
"You say that about every movie we go see that doesn't have Tom Holland in it." He rolls his eyes.
"Am I wrong, though? He's--" Once reaching the outside of the theatre, you can't stop your eyes from glancing up and introducing themselves to the blazing, afternoon sun. A hiss of terror leaves you as you raise your arm, still connected with Niall's by your interlocked hands in an endeavor to shield your face. The man beside you only chuckles.
"Fuckin' shit," you murmur, squinting hard through the bright exposure.
"You do that every time we leave the theatre."
"You do that every time we leave the theatre." You mimic him in a slurred, accented voice. "It's just a habit," you avert your gaze down at your feet in embarrassment.
"It's okay, petal," Niall assures, reaching in his back pocket for your pair of sunglasses he triple-checked he brought earlier in the day. "Lucky for you, I came prepared." Without further discussion, he lifted your chin and slid the pair of dark shades over your eyes.
Giddy smiles were covering both of your faces on the rest of the walk back to the car.
Niall shuffled into the bedroom with freshly dried pillows and blankets for the guest bedroom. You admired his hands from across the bed, his calloused fingertips delicately pinching and folding each item. But you stopped him from folding as soon as his hands reached for the fuzziest blanket out of the bunch.
"Wait, no." You desperately reached a hand out, eager to feel the soothing warmth against your skin. Niall's chest heaved in a sigh, already picturing you in a few moments, rolled tightly in a burrito-shaped form with the blanket covering nearly every inch of you. He relinquishes the cloth to you anyway and grins at the sight of you basking in the warmth of it.
"Ah yeah, that's the stuff..." you nearly moan as your body curls further into the blanket.
"Weirdo." He grumbles, unable to hide his smile as he carries on folding. Your foot pops out from the bottom to point your toes accusingly at him.
"You chose to date and live with this weirdo so...you can't really talk. You've got all of me now, Irish, even the quirks."
"I know." He mumbles to himself with the smile from before sprouting even larger across his cheeks. You, however, were too occupied in turning yourself into a blanket burrito to notice.
