Why did Niall's hair have to be so perfect?
Like, no matter what he did it looked amazing.
I mean, I've had many a compliment on my own hairstyle and the "sexy" blonde highlight in it and how "amazingly gorgueous" it is.
But at the end of the day, I always find myself staring and admiring that hunk of blonde, messy beauty that rests so peacefully on Niall's beautiful head.
Amazingly, I find nothing sexy about the way my hair looks.
I get up in the morning, slick it up into the quiff and then perfect my highlight.
I leave the house thinking I look like a hot mess.
But Niall, he looks amazing no matter what he wears or what he does to his hair.
Why couldn't I be like Niall?
Why couldn't I have been blessed with those beautiful blonde locks?
I thought all of these things over as I stared into the mirror of my bathroom.
I brushed my hand over my soft hair many times but still felt Niall was superior to me.
I sighed as I continued feeling my hair, feeling all of the imperfections of it run through my fingers.
"Hey buddy! What are ya doing just feeling your hair like that?" a jolly Irish voice boomed through my bedroom.
I shot my hand down onto the bathroom counter as I looked into the mirror to see Niall jog to stand beside me.
He had already see me run my fingers through my hair, so the hand onto the counter was useless and uneffective.
As Niall jogged to greet me I watched in the mirror his flowing blonde hair that looked even perfect as morning bed hair.
Niall had just woken up, as had all of us and he still looked amazing.
Especially his hair.
"Uh hey Nialler. Just you know, checking out my hair." I laughed a little, looking down at my shivering hand on the counter.
I didn't really understand why I was shaking, but I seemed to always get this way around Niall.
Ever since that night in Paris, we've never been the same I guess.
But hey, we shared ONE kiss.
No big deal.
No reason to get shakey around him or anything.
Also, it was a drunken mistake.
I still remember how perfect his hair looked that night too.
Flowing in the crisp, beautiful and quiet French wind as his cold Irish lips met my warm Pakistani ones.
It was magical, to say the least.
"Oh cool. I need to check mine too actually. It looks a hot mess today, don't it?" he chuckled at me as he stared into the mirror and fluffed and messed around with his own hair.
"Hot mess? Niall your hair looks amazing." I smiled at him, landidng a soft pet on his blonde hair.
It was so soft and I wanted to do it again, but I felt he'd ask some questions to why I was all the sudden petting him.
But one time was enough.
Enough to gain a giggle, smile and blush from him.
He was adorable, and I wanted to tell him but friends don't say that to other friends do they?
They don't just exchange homosexual remarks like that.
At least I don't think they do.
"Hey Niall, can I ask you something mate?" I asked him, feeling the shakes in my hands grow ten fold in a span of 3 seconds.
When I felt how bad I was shaking, I started to have second thoughts about asking Niall the question.
He stopped looking at the mirror and looked to me and saw my shaking hands.
He put his cold, pale one on my tan one.
"You're shaking pretty bad lad. You need to sit down or somethin'?" Niall asked me.
He seemed very concerned and worried, but my lips couldn't form to make an answer so I only nodded.
He grabbed my thighs and hoisted me up onto the bathroom counter.
I started to calm down as soon as his hands left my body.
My shakes calmed a little and I could actually breathe at a normal rate now.
"Zayn? Zayn.. are you alright man?" Niall asked me, waving his hand in a waving motion in front of my eyes as I nodded.
"Yes Niall, I'm fine. Thanks for the support and help." I smiled.
He smiled too and moved to stand in front of me.
"Now, what was that question Zayn?" Niall asked me.
My eyes widened as I looked straight into his crystal blue ones that pleaded and cried out for me to spill every ounce of my feelings.
"Do you remember that night we spent with the boys? That one night in Paris?" I spilled, looking into his eyes.
I could tell he remembered right away.
Now I waited to see if he would lie about remembering our kiss.
"You mean the night where-- me and you.. kissed?" Niall asked, whispering the last part since we knew Louis loved to bombard into my room for what he calls "morning hugs".
I nodded, afraid if I rushed into trying to trap him into liking me, he'd never speak to me again.
I didn't want to trap Niall, but since that night he had been the only thing on my mind.
"Yeah-- I-I remember it Z. What about it?" he asked. I saw beads of sweat form at the hairline to his perfect blonde mess.
I could tell he was nervous about me confessing my feelings.
I almost didn't want to tell him anything.
What if he felt obligated to take care of me or felt like he had to love me just because we kissed that one night?
I didn't want Niall to feel that way.
"I just want you to know you don't have to take care of me, or miss me or any of that. But, I don't want you to freak out when I tell you... I love you." I said, shaking more than ever now.
I could tell he was at a loss for words.
Was that a sign he loved me back?
Was that a sign he regreted kissing me?
"Zayn.. that kiss man, It was a drunken mistake, I-I didn't mean to mess with your emotions like that. You don't have to say you love me, just because I accidently kissed you." he said, softening his blue eyes.
Now I was the one that felt stupid.
He thought I was only confessing my long term love because he kissed me.
I felt stupid about the whole thing now.
"Niall. No, it's not that mate. I really do think I have feelings for you. I think you're adorable. I think you're perfect. Your teeth are perfect, your skin is perfect and don't get me started on your hair." I smiled, looking down to my swinging feet that hung low of the bathroom counter.
Niall looked down to my feet as well as we watched them swing and swing, not knowing what to say next.
"Zayn.. I really don't know much about any of this. But I do know that that night. You know, when we-- yeah. I did feel something. It was lik a spark or something. Something lit a fire in me. Something told me it was the right thing to do." Niall nodded, looking back up at me.
I returned his glare.
Did he just confess his love for me?
Did he just tell me that all my hopes and wishes and dreams of me messing with that blonde mess of hair every morning and waking up to his beautiful Irish smile next to me in bed, were all true?
"Does that mean you'd mind if I did this?" I asked, blank expressionly as I leaned forward and pressed my tanned lips to his.
He didn't exactly jump on the idea of his best friend kissing him, but he sure didn't hold back.
It took me a second to adjust to his small lips, but soon he was pushing into my lips back.
I kept pushing into him as he put his hand on my bottom, sliding me to the edge of the table and spread my legs to where my legs wrapped around him and our stomachs touched.
He broke the kiss only to get right back in it.
He traced my bottom lip with his tongue as he begged for entrance and I allowed it.
Our tongues took turns exploring each others mouths as I pulled away.
"That was amazing Niall." I smiled at him.
"It'll take some geting used too, but Zayn... I think I love you." Niall smiled at me, his hands still on my waist as he tounched his forehead to mine.
"I think I love you too Nialler." I smiled back at him, kissing his nose.