Adore You [H.S]

5 // Noah

a/n : u guys are amazing ily! 🥺💗

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The frigid morning air blows against my face as I step out of the hotel building. London. They had to choose London. For a Christmas vacation?! I will never get over that.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It's my mom saying that she'll be there in five to pick my sister and me up. We have a family group chat (not my idea, of course). My parents, Mom mostly, have used it to give us all the updates and plans for the trip. It was convenient, but God was it annoying.

My legs shiver in the cold air, causing me to barely be able to keep my balance. I still have five minutes, why am I torturing myself? I take a step back into the building and wait in the lobby for the remainder of the time.

"Too cold out there for you, yeah?" A British male asks from somewhere across the room. I turn my head and my eyes widen when I catch a glimpse of him behind the check-in counter.

"Yeah," I say sheepishly, my cheeks heating up. I didn't mind the blushing though, considering how freezing the rest of my body was.

"You're not from around here, are you?" He asks, walking around the counter and beginning to approach me.

"Well, no. That's why I'm staying here," I say, "at a hotel."

"Right, sorry." He shakes his head and chuckles.

"I'm from Colorado." I shrug. "I wish I was able to say California or somewhere cooler, but that's not where life has taken me so far."

"Well, Colorado's pretty interesting I'm sure. What is it known for?" He seemed genuinely interested.

"Weed," I say simply. His eyes widen.

"Is that a joke?" He asks, laughing slightly nervously.

"I wish." I laugh also.

"I thought that's what Las Vegas was known for." He furrows his eyebrows.

"No," I shake my head, "gambling is legal in Nevada—where Vegas is—and marijuana's legal in Colorado."

"Huh," He pursed his lip, "The more you know, I guess."

"Yeah." I giggle.

"I'm Noah, by the way," He introduces himself finally. He didn't look much like a Noah, his skin wasn't very tan and his hair was a dark shade of brown. His eyes looked like literal chocolate chips.

"Liliana," I say, "but everyone calls me Lili."

"Wow," He smiles, a dimple popping up on his left cheek.

"What?"

"Well, your name is just so...beautiful." He shakes his head in amusement.

"Thank you." I blush again.

"No, seriously," He looks deep into my eyes, "it's so different. Everyone here is either named Emma, Abby, or Elizabeth."

I chuckled at his statement and looked down. British guys are so charming, why did I have to be born in America?!

"I like your accent," He says to me.

"My accent?" I ask with wide eyes.

"Yeah," He shrugged, "you have an American accent."

"I don't really consider that an accent."

"It's foreign to the way everyone around here talks, so I do," He insists, "and I like it."

"Well, thank you," I say shyly, "I like yours a lot."

He stood there silently for a moment, just smiling.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," He started, putting his finger up to his lip in concentration, "but you seem like you're really into music."

"How could you tell?" I raised my eyebrows.

"I'm pretty good at reading people. I've been told I have a gift." He shrugs it off like it was no big deal.

"Well," I stepped a little closer, "what else can you tell me about myself?"

He looked like he was deep in thought for a second before speaking up as he stared into my eyes.

"You were probably obsessed with a boyband when you were younger, One Direction maybe. You're most definitely a Capricorn. You probably like to listen to old and/or small bands, preferably on a record player," His eyes narrowed as he looked deeper into my soul, "You feel like no one understands you and you were born in the wrong era. You watch 'That 70's Show' and wish for a friend group like that. One that just hangs out and isn't always on their phones."

I stared at him with my jaw on the floor.

"Am I wrong anywhere?" He asks proudly.

"Uh, no," I say, utterly gobsmacked at his accuracy. He stood there with a smirk playing on his plump lips.

"Sir?" A lady called from behind him. He quickly spun around as she repeatedly smacked the service bell.

"I've gotta..." He excused himself, pointing to the lady.

"Yeah," I shake myself out of my thoughts, "my ride should be here by now anyways."

"It was lovely to meet you, Liliana," Noah says walking away before helping the impatient middle-aged woman.

"It's Lili," I correct him quietly.

Sure enough, a few seconds after he walked away, my mom pulled up to the curb of the hotel. I swiftly walk out and get in the backseat.

"Where's Emily?" I ask, noticing she wasn't there.

"Oh, she'll be out in a minute," My mom shrugs in the front passenger seat. "She's just taking a little extra time to get ready, no big deal."

I felt called out by her statement.

"Oh okay," I say simply, getting comfortable in my seat.

Almost 5 minutes later, Emily and Matt are rushing out of the hotel.

"Sorry about that," Matt apologizes once they buckle their seatbelts in the 12-passenger van.

"No worries," Dad says, changing the gear to drive.

"So, Mom, where's our first adventure of the trip?" My older sister, Eleanor, asks from one of the very back seats.

"Should we tell them, honey?" Mom turns to Dad.

"I don't see why not," He shrugs.

"To start off our trip, we're going to The Victoria and Albert Museum," She says, obviously delighted with her choices.

My brother Leo groans, his wife Hailey swatting his arm soon after.

"No complaints or we will leave you there and you can find your own way back to the hotel," Mom threatened.

"Hey, I have a question," I said to my mom, who nodded for me to continue. "How come Em and I were the only ones you had to pick up?"

"Oh we went to breakfast and you guys didn't want to go," Dad spoke up.

"I was never asked if I wanted to go to breakfast," I said, a cold feeling of FOMO running down my spine.

"We sent it to the group chat," Mom says.

"I didn't get anything."

"Maybe you accidentally sent it to the group chat she's not in," Leo yells from the backseat, Hailey hitting him again.

"Y-You guys have a group chats without me?" I ask, looking around at everyone in the car. No one would make eye contact with me.

"Well, it was because of the tickets," Emily said, trying to make me feel better.

"Well obviously it wasn't just for that," I say, getting frustrated.

I sit back in my seat with a huff. And the car ride to the museum was the worst 21 minutes of my life.