One Direction Imagines

Awkward is My Specialty

Your P.O.V.

*4:54 am*

"Mmmm....mmm...and I'm awake," jolting up in bed, you glance at the clock to see its early hours. Plopping back down, you lay for a few more minutes before realizing you're not able to fall back asleep.

"It's 5 o'clock in the morning. Conversion go boring..." You sing to yourself. "Wait a minute, what time is it actually?" You ask yourself.

Picking up your wrist, you twist your watch in your direction. 5:00 am. "Gee wiz I've got magical powers," you laugh.

*2 1/2 hours later*

"Mmm...something smells good," your roommate, Madelyn, says while yawning.

"Gracias Amiga," you yell in an attempted Spanish accent.

"What made you want to make waffles?" She asks, sitting at the bar.

"I had a craving," you say, putting a plate in front of her.

"Are you pregnant?" She asks with a mouthful. "These are delicious."

"Not that I know of."

Choking on her food, she chugs half a glass of orange juice down.

"I'm gonna go get a shower," you say while running to your room down the hall, stripping off your clothes as you move.

Grabbing two towels, you turn on the water, and hop in.

"Booty booty booty booty, rocking everywhere. Booty booty booty booty, rocking everywhere. Booty booty booty booty, rocking everywhere. Rocking everywhere, rocking everywhere, rocking everywhere. I found you miss new booty. Get it together and bring it back to me..." Blares through your speakers, so loud the whole building can probably hear it. But only your roommate can. Except you're not able to hear her screaming your name to hurry up and get out.

"(Y/N), (Y/N), I'M NOT KIDDING. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. THERE'S A FIRE IN THE KITCHEN AND I CAN'T FIND THE EXTINGUISHER," She continues yelling until she bursts through the door and shuts the speaker off.

"(Y/N)!"

"WHAT?!" You yell, slipping, and ripping the shower curtain down as you fall.

"There's a fire! We have to get out!"

"Shit!" You scream, jumping up, wrapping your hair in a towel, then your dripping body.

Running to your bedroom, you rip a t-shirt off a hangar, pull some jeans off a shelf and slip on your flip flops. Grabbing some underwear, bra, deodorant, and your purse. Throwing in your phone and wallet.

Running out the front door, your body towel catches onto the knob. The towel pooling at your feet.

As you're bending over to pick it up, your male model neighbor, Matthew, is sprinting out of his door across the hall.

"Wow, and I've always looked at fires to be a bad thing. Guess we need more in this building." You hear him smirk.

"Madelyn couldn't find the extinguisher," you say, as a matter-of-fact.

"It's under the kitchen sink," he chuckles.

"For real?"

"Yes for real." Running towards me, he passes and heads for the kitchen. Going under the sink, he grabs the device, right where he said it was. Putting out the fire.

"You're a hero," you say, rewrapping yourself.

"Tell me something I don't know," he smirks, standing back up. Striding across your living room, he pats your back, "see ya around."