A damn good try. Owen Farrell fanfic

22. Lazy days

I smiled, and leaned back into Owen, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and we watched the T.V. The group stages were over, England came out top, and were to face Wales. Ireland had come back from the loss to England, and won every single match, earning a bonus point in each. They trashed Argentina 68-7. (Yes I am that petty)

There was a break in matches, (Didn't happen in real world cup, but does here for the sake of this chapter) and Owen had come over to Ireland for a few days. His birthday was gone, by about two weeks, but he had saved his present from me to open with me.

I half wished he had just opened it. It had been a spontaneous joke, but now I was getting worried about what his reaction would be. He nestled his chin on my shoulder and breathed out slowly. I squirmed as the ticklish sensation.

I thought back to the morning, when Owen had surprised me, yet again. Owen seemed very against the idea of telling me in advance he was coming, so he had woken me up this morning, fresh in from the airport.

What had been embarrassing was the fact that I was wearing the English jersey he had given me as pyjamas, he brought it up every few minutes. Speaking of which.

"This morning..." He started. "Farrell, if you continue, AGAIN, I'll cut out your tongue" He shuts up, then whispers, "It was cute" I roll my eyes. The show we are 'watching' cuts to an ad break, and I jump up, better get this over with.

"Do you want to open your present?" I ask, clapping my hands to disguise their nervous shaking "Ok" he nods, "It's in my suitcase." He gets up and crosses into the kitchen where he dumped his bag.

He returns, the present under his arm. I sit on one end of the couch, legs tucked up underneath me, and watch him warily. He brings the present to his eye and rattles it, I bite my lip. "Hmm, feels soft" He comments.

He slowly picks off the sellotape, and I frown, "Get on with it, ya weirdo" I complain and he smirks. "I enjoy making you nervous" He replies. I glare at him, He finally picks all the sellotape off, and unwraps the wrapping paper.

He holds up the emerald green jersey and swivels it around, noticing the number 10 on the back that I payed extra for. A steady smile grows on my face as I take in his shocked expression.

He schools his features, and raises his eyebrows as he lowers the jersey. "An Ireland rugby jersey" He states, "You got me an Ireland rugby jersey." I nod slowly, on the verge of giggles.

"What were you thinking?" He asks, not angry, but confused. "Well, I was thinking, what do you get the egotistical English rugby player who has it all?" "I'm not egotistical" He cuts in. "Hmm, whatever, and then it hit me, Irish merchandise."

He shakes his head. "You're an idiot you know that? I'll never wear this" I cock an eyebrow. "I think you will" I retort, "I payed a lot of money for that, out of my student budget, and all these flights to see you aren't free you know"

He shakes his head, "Nope"

An hour later, he's wearing the jersey, and a frown as well. I laugh and take a picture. "Don't you dare put that up anywhere" He warns, "I won't" I tease. "You'd better not" "Shall I Instagram or Twitter them?" I mutter under my breath playfully.

He charges at me, and I duck, running around the table, he follows, until five minutes later, he stops, and I crash into his hard back.

"Oof" I fall to the ground and he laughs, "You look very funny at the moment" He tells me, "Says the one in the Irish jersey" I retort. "Touche" He laughs, and pulls me up.

We go back into the living room, the show we were watching was well over, replaced by the familiar theme tune of Father Ted. I squeal and jump over the back of the couch, landing successfully on the cushion. Owen joins me, amused at my sudden outburst of energy, especially as I was moaning about being tired earlier.

By the time the programme is over, Owen has dozed off, so I grab a blanket from the other sofa and lay it over him. I kiss his forehead as I leave the room, heading for my bedroom. I was already in my pyjamas, so I just brushed my teeth, and pulled my hair up into a bun.

I climbed into bed, pulling the covers around me snugly. Bella was away, staying with her brother down in Limerick for the week. She had been very worried that there would be no signal, or wifi, or heating. I had to tell her that they were in the same year as us, and they wouldn't sacrifice her to the God of farming. She was a city girl, through and through.

Erin: You still up?
Bella: OF COURSE, it's only eleven.
Erin: To some people, that's late
Bella: Only you, Only you
Erin: Bored yet?
Bella: Yes, but it's nice to see Marcus again. There has been a surprising lack of potato served though.
Erin: Is that a bad thing?
Bella: No! Just surprised, thought it would be potato land
Erin: How many times do I have to tell you, it's just like Dublin!
Bella: But with more cows, who look at you like they're going to kill you.

I shook my head, trust Bella, it was hard to imagine her on a farm, or getting up before 10. Our conversation continued until Bella said that she had better go, she was going to try sleep, she was supposedly going hiking, another thing I couldn't imagine Bella doing.  

I turned my phone off and rolled over to my side, rolling onto my side and closing my eyes.

A/N Not a very interesting chapter again, sorry. Next chapter is full of drama though! Comment, Vote, and ship Owrin! Xx