Little Things

Chapter 17

The alarm on my bedstand pierces my ears, waking me instantly. I groan, slamming my hand onto the clock to stop the noise. After a few seconds of contemplating just sleeping the rest of my life, I force myself out of bed.

The moment I swing my feet over and step onto the floor, I trip over Harry. I almost forgot he was here, and to my surprise he is still asleep. Even after the alarm and the fact that I just tripped over him.

His mouth is peaked open and his locks of curls fall perfectly around the pillow. He is curled up underneath the blankets, and he looks so peaceful. Harrys already a pretty happy person, but just seeing him this innocent warms me.

I tip toe across the floor, careful not to awake him, and then go to the bathroom to refresh myself. I also wash my face, just because I am anal when it comes to washing to make sure I don't grow any pimples.

Ten minutes later and still not fully awake, I make my way towards the stairs. Half way down, the aura of bacon and pancakes waft through my nostrils.

Niall is sitting at the island, but his face rests in his arms, sound asleep. Plates of sausage, bacon, pancakes, eggs and a pot of coffee cover the counter.

My eyes widen, only imagining how much effort he has gone through. I frown, wanting to thank him, but also wanting to hold my grudge.

I'm not going to be around anyone who treats me as shitty as he did.

I lift up the cover keeping the pancakes warm and steam rises off of them. As I place it back on, the cover slips slightly from my hand, causing it to clash against the ceramic.

Niall shifts in his seat and I freeze.

"Allyson?" Niall mumbles, lifting his head up from his arms, with his eyes still shut.

I curse under my breath.

With his thumbs, Niall rubs his eyes and once they focus on me, he smiles.

"I made breakfast," he says.

"I noticed," I reply.

I glance over at the clock on the stove and I have roughly an hour and a half til I have to leave .

Niall explains every dish he concocted and I try to appear friendly, but not interested.

Even though his small act of making breakfast makes me giddy inside at the gesture.

I extend my arm to grab the coffee pot, but Niall beats me to it.

"Yesterday you were a waitress. Now, I'm the one serving you. Go sit on the couch, I'll bring you everything over," he tells me.

I nod, and do as he says.

"How do you like your Joe?" Niall calls over to me.

"Cream and lots of sugar," I reply, and for some reason he smirks as he dumps sugar into my mug.

After a few minutes, Niall brings me over a large plate topped with food, and my steaming cup of coffee.

I manage to mumble a thanks before he walks away.

I hesitate at first, contemplating whether I should eat it or not. Maybe he poisened it. Maybe this was all a set up.

But my stomach over rides my mind and I dig in.

My tastebuds light up in delight and I am pleasantly surprised at Niall's talent in the culinary arts.

In minutes i have my whole plate scarffed down. I would get seconds, but I don't want to feel sick, and I reckon I should save some for Morgan and Harry.

I plop onto the couch and grab the remote to turn the news on. I would like to know the weather forecast before I go stand outside selling paintings.

"So, how was your food?" Niall asks.

"It was...Okay," I lie. It was the best breakfast I have ever had.

His eyes droop and any case of happiness he had before is dropped.

"Oh, okay. I'm uh-I'm sorry. I'm not much of a chef anyways," he says, fiddling his fingers nervously.

I instantly feel bad for lying to him, and that I'm still treating him poorly when he has been nothing but kind to me.

Wait, no.

No.

He was fake, deceitful.

"So erm, what did you do last night?" Niall questions , running his Fingers through his blonde hair.

I furrow my eyebrows, but then realize he is referring to our "conversation" where I mentioned doing things with Harry.

"Nothing, I went straight to bed," I answer truthfully, this time.

"Oh, that's good," he mutters.

Silence fills the space between where he stands at the edge of kitchen and living room, and where I sit on the couch.

"What's the plan for you today?" Niall asks, as the sound of Harry padding down the stairs takes action.

"Well I'm working at the Farmers Market," I answer and he nods.

Harry walks over, still looking groggy from his newly wake, as he takes in the scent and sight of the island covered in food.

He sets himself a plate, but it is empty again soon after. He reacts these steps again, and then falls back in the bar stool at the island.

"Niall, you need to cook for me more often."