Little Things (A Niall Horan Fanfiction)

Chapter 12: New

I blush and smile from ear to ear. "Of course that's okay...that was so sweet of you. Thank you."

He nods back, smiling. "Well, ready to go?"

"Yeah," I respond. "But where are we going?"

"You'll find out when we land," he grins.

"No...I'll find out as soon as I get my ticket," I fire back.

He shakes his head. "You should know we don't fly commercially. We have our own jet."

"Of course you do," I sigh. He walks over and takes my suitcase with one hand, and reaches out for me to take the other. I intertwine my hand in his as he leads me down to the car. He puts my suitcase in the trunk and opens the door for me. When I step into the vehicle, I see the boys are already here. Niall climbs in after me and takes a seat next to me.

"Hey Brooke, thanks for breakfast. You're quite the cook...I could get used to that," Harry winks at me.

"Well, that was really supposed to be for Niall," I tell him. "But it's the least I could do for all of you."

Zayn shakes his head. "Brooke, we're glad to have you with us. Don't think you're baggage, because we want you along for the tour. You make Niall happy, you make the whole band happy."

I couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Zayn. I appreciate it." He smiles back at me.

The car ride consists of the boys singing along with the radio, especially when "Talk Dirty" came on the radio. I remembered the video they made along to the song while on the tour and couldn't help but laugh uncontrollably through the whole song. They discussed the tour for a while and talked about the places they'd visit in the next month.

Finally, we pulled up to LAX. Niall got my suitcase for me again and grabbed my hand, leading me inside the terminal. Paparazzi was crazy again, but I was used to it by now. Niall took off his signature sunglasses and placed them on my face. I squeeze his hand and he smiles down at me. We walk through the terminal, our heads down low, until the sound of clicking cameras fades.

I look up to see an empty terminal. "Where are we?" I ask, looking up to Niall.

"I told you we don't fly commercial," he replies, taking the sunglasses off my nose. "Come on."

We walk through the jet way and finally reach the jet. As I step inside, the sight takes my breath away. This jet is incredible. The cabin is spacious, there are wide screen TVs on the walls and the seats are made of white leather. There's even a mini fridge and a snack bar.

Niall pulls on my arm; I hadn't realized that I stopped at the doorway. "Sorry," I say quietly.

He leads me over to one of the leather chairs and he sits across from me. He puts my suitcase in the compartment above his seat.

Sitting here on this plane, I'm beginning to feel nauseous. I've flown countless times in my life, but every single time, I'm terrified. I don't know what it is...I'm not afraid the plane is going to crash or anything. I'm afraid of turbulence, and just the whole experience makes me uncomfortable. I dread every single time I have to fly.

My palms are sweaty and my face is feeling hot. I notice I'm shaking and fidgeting in my seat.

"Niall," I squeak. "I hate flying."

He looks back at me, apologetic. "I would sit next to you, but I can't, obviously. You'll be fine," he reassures me.

I shake my head. "Niall, I'm terrified of flying. And I mean terrified."

He unbuckles from the seat and walks over to me, bending down so his face is level with mine. He grabs my hand and squeezes it. "You'll be fine, Brooke. Just look over at me while we take off; I'll be making ridiculous faces for you the whole time," he says, smiling.