London's P.O.V.
“Babe… Baaaaaaabbee…” I bury my head in the pillow and pull the blankets over my head. Not soon after I do this do I feel a body crawl on top of me and pull the covers down a little. Soft lips nuzzle themselves on my neck, giving me goosebumps. “You need to get up, babe. Our flight leaves in three hours and it takes an hour to get to the airport,” Niall says, laying his head down on my back. “You’re warm and cozy, though,” I whine. Niall giggles. “I love you,” he says. “I love you, too,” I reply, turning over and giving him a kiss. In the next thirty minutes or so, I had showered and put on some jeans and a University sweatshirt. My wet hair was thrown up in a ponytail, and I applied a small amount of foundation before throwing it back into my suitcase.
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Truly, Madly, Deeply
Teen FictionHi, I'm London. My best friend is Niall Horan, and I love him to death. When I say "to death", I mean it. Our numerous adventures flash before my eyes as tragedy strikes and I'm left questioning what I am going to do.
