left my heart out // n.h.& l.p. au love triangle

v. eat your heart out

The next time I come to the coffee shop, Niall is waiting at the door for me, like he knew I'd be coming, and I'm not surprised to see him there, seeing as we seem to have established a pattern of being there at the same time. He holds the door open for me (which I'm grateful, but only for a second, because it's windy outside and my nose is surely bright red from the cold), and I barely acknowledge him as I step inside.

"How are you today, Quentin?" he asks as he follows me inside, coming to a stop much too close to me, so close that I can smell whatever cologne he's wearing when we queue up for our drinks.

"Alive," I say, though the truth is, I was feeling pretty great this morning. I woke up to light streaming in through my blinds, and I didn't think about until at least 10 minutes later. But then I couldn't find my lucky socks, and that's when things started to go downhill. "And yourself?"

"I'm fantastic," Niall says, sounding far too enthusiastic for 3 PM, which is when I usually have my afternoon can't-keep-my-eyes-open crash, hence the need for coffee. "I do have an essay due soon, though."

"Hmm." I turn forward, stretching my neck so that I can see the pastries on display under glass at the counter. Niall says something else, but I ignore him, trying my best to convey to him just how unwelcome his attempts at small talk are.

But then he tries to pay for my drink.

I barely have a chance to reach for my purse before Niall steps up to the counter next to me and says, "I've got it. And a small drip coffee for me as well, please." Then he reaches into his pocket and extracts his wallet. In the second it takes him to flip through the contents, I manage to pick my jaw up off of the floor.

"I can pay for my own drink, Niall," I tell him, trying not to make too big a scene because there's a queue of people behind us, and a very impatient looking girl behind the till. I try to grab the fiver out of his hand as he slides it across of the counter, but he's faster than me, and before I realize what's happening, he's holding it above my head, and I'm jumping around like a maniac, trying to grab it.

"I'm just trying to be nice," he says, smiling at the girl behind the counter. She doesn't smile back. I roll my eyes, trying to show her that it's the principle of the thing, that Niall and I aren't on a date, that we're not even really friends, that he's being absolutely ridiculous because there's no reason whatsoever that he should pay for my drink. She remains unamused.

"You're not nice," I remind him, stretching my arm up for the bill, but he slips it in his back pocket with a satisfied grin on his face. "You're annoying. You're holding up the whole queue."

"Well, I'm trying to be nice," he says, sounding perfectly pleasant. "I'm trying to make up for being an arse to you."

"It's not–" I start, but the barista sighs dramatically, interrupting me. I shoot her a death glare, which probably isn't helping matters, but I'm so annoyed that I don't care. "How about you just cancel my order, then?"

"That's ridiculous, Quentin," Niall says, his voice strained. "I'm just trying to–"

"Please, just let him pay for it," someone shouts from behind us. The shout is followed by a half dozen voices erupting in "Please!" and "Jesus Christ!"

Niall and the barista look at me expectantly. Niall's smirking, like he already knows that I'm going to say yes. I realize that I don't have a choice; an entire queue of caffeine-hungry people is rallying behind him. But that doesn't mean I have to enjoy it.

"Fine," I say, crossing my arms. "But don't think I'm happy about it."

"Oh, I think you've made that very clear," the barista says, smiling tightly as she accepts Niall's fiver and gives him his change.