The first sound I heard on Christmas morning woke me up faster than a bombshell. The most obnoxious, loud Christmas song ever created blasted its way into my room; the horribly cheesy lyrics tearing me out of sleep. I knew the culprit immediately, and if I’d had the energy I would have thrown my pillow at her.
Instead, I burrowed underneath my blankets, shouting as loud as possible, “Shut it off!”
The volume increased and I groaned, knowing I wasn’t going to get anywhere. Morgan tittering voice yelled, “It’s Christmas! Get up! I made cinnamon rolls!”
Reluctantly, I flung myself out of bed, the cold air hitting me immediately. I rushed out my bedroom door and flung my hand down to hit the stop button on the player. Relief flooded through me when the awful music finally ceased.
“You’re a jerk.” I mumbled, a sideways grin adorning my face.
“A jerk who made cinnamon rolls!” She giggled, proudly lifting the plate up for me to see. My senses were suddenly overwhelmed with the fantastic scent of cinnamon and sugar, my anger melting away.
“Merry Christmas!” She sang.
I nodded enthusiastically, my eyes never leaving the pastries. “Merry Christmas, indeed.” I plucked a roll off the plate before she could take them away. “Although the wakeup call was a little rough,” I growled in between bites.
“Oh, come on.” She wined, childishly. “That song is a classic.”
“It turns a religious holiday into something oddly romantic, when it is clearly not meant to be.” I argued.
“Downer, much.” She scoffed, plopping down on the couch. I shrugged, taking a seat next to her as I finished off my food.
“By the way,” Morgan brought up nonchalantly. “Niall came by this morning.”
My blue eyes must have grown three times their size as I snapped my neck around. “He did?”
“Yup,” She popped the last of her roll into her mouth, ignoring my reaction. “He figured you weren’t awake but he just wanted to drop some stuff off.”
“Drop some stuff off?” I wondered aloud, confused. I wondered if I’d forgotten something at his flat the other day.
She gestured to the two red and green cards stacked neatly atop of the TV box. “He’s so sweet. One’s for me too.”
A smile spread around my face at his generosity. “That was so nice of him.”
“Like I said, he’s a sweetheart.” She set her plate down on the ottoman and sprung up to grab the cards. She handed the one with my name written out in a boyish scrawl to me swiftly, “I wanted to wait till you were up before I opened mine.”
For a few seconds the only sounds were ripping paper and breathing. I put my finger underneath the flap and tore across the top. A beautiful Christmas card was nestled inside. I slide it out and opened it slowly. An event ticket lay inside and as I read I realized it was a ticket to an ice show this afternoon.
YOU ARE READING
One in a Million (A Niall Horan Fan Fiction)
FanfictionI have always been told since I was merely a child that the best choices in life are not necessarily the right choices. I, however, never fully understood the phrase until I met Niall Horan. Sometimes I wonder if Niall was just one boy that I was n...
