Chapter Twenty:
AN: Final chapter :)
Hannah was wearing a white swimsuit with little embroidered daisies on it. Niall was doing his utmost to focus on the daisies rather than her body, but as a teenage boy, he was finding this no easy feat. Luckily, she had her back to him and had no idea that his blue eyes were roving hungrily over her still body, but he still didn’t want anyone else to catch him ogling – there was also the risk that she might turn around and spot him staring, and probably slap him, which he was also quite keen to avoid. Experience (and getting extremely drunk at the employees’ Christmas party at the shop where they both worked last year) had taught him that she had one hell of a right hook. It had also taught him that drinking a large amount of tequila and then falling off the top of the boss’s shiny new car after an attempt at dancing on top of it was not the most effective way of maintaining employment, but that was an entirely different story.
Her golden hair was hanging loosely right down to the small of her back; he’d never really appreciated how long it was before. It kind of made him want to touch it, to hold it out and examine all the ways the sun reflected off it, all the highlights and shimmering colours lost within the gold that came out in the sunlight. Still, he didn’t think she’d take too kindly to him pulling her hair, either, so he ignored the urge.
A clear laugh burst into the air, travelling across the pool, and Niall realized that it had come from Hannah. He followed her line of sight and realized with a clench of his jaw that she was gazing across the pool, meeting the gaze of one of the lifeguards she’d been making eyes at since they’d arrive, as well as several of his hooting, catcalling friends. One of them shouted out an obscene comment and Hannah giggled and twirled around in a circle on their command (Niall twitched in frustration; why wasn’t she giving them the finger and a mouthful of abuse like she would have back home to anyone who had tried to treat her like some token blonde bimbo?) and as she twirled, she caught sight of Niall, rooted to the spot and staring darkly at her. She faltered for a moment mid-spin, and then watched in surprise his gaze darted back to the small group of twenty-year-olds, whose eyes were all glued on her and thoroughly enjoying the rear view.
Her mouth tightened into a small smirk, like a challenge. Turning back to the guys, she placed one hand on her hip and tossed her hair in the way that everyone knew made Niall weak at the knees, and that, thatwas the final straw.
His first step was hesitant, but after that, he decided there was no going back. She should have expected him to pop up behind her, they’d stared right at each other after all, but no – she was unsuspecting, too busy giggling and waving. It was aggravating, so much so that he almost wondered if she was deliberately exaggerating the whole scenario to the point of ridiculousness. He knew Hannah. She didn’t do all the giggly, wiggly eyelash fluttering stuff (she preferred to bash you over the head and affectionately call you a wanker and then make her move, if her past relationship with Louis was anything to go by) so he couldn’t understand why she was acting in this way. He figured he’d put an end to it.
His hands landed on her shoulders, the feel of warm, smooth skin underneath his fingertips sending sparks dancing right the way up to his knuckles. He felt her breathe sharply in underneath him, flinching in shock, and before she could properly steady herself Niall was jerking her forward, as if he was going to throw her straight into the pool. He had a firm hold on her as he yanked her towards the water; she wasn’t going to slip, but Hannah gave a little squeak of surprise and grabbed his leg, the fingers of her left hand grabbing a handful of fabric as she seized him by the leg of his Chinos and held on for dear life, biting down so hard on her lower lip to keep herself from squealing that all the blood was fading from it, leaving it pearly white. Niall’s hands slid carefully down her shoulders to her waist, pulling her safely back from the edge – her hair flicked over her right shoulder like a curtain, and he carefully pushed it back out of his way as he leaned over to murmur against the curved shell of her ear, “Saved your life.”
She turned to look at him reproachfully, silently berating him for scaring her. Her eyes were pale blue in contrast to his own deep cerulean irises, which more resembled the colour of the pool in front of them, but they seemed far more intense, and it took Niall’s breath away. Since her mouth had become a pout and her forehead was creased, he was already sensing the danger signs, and when she raised a delicate hand as if to slap him on the arm, he decided to stop her in her tracks; he yanked her against him with an arm looped around her waist and kissed her abruptly on the mouth, and the hand which had been about to hit him rested gently on his arm, her fingers sculpting around his bicep as she held him, surprised but pleased.
Niall could feel the stares of the guys on the other side of the pool burning into his side, and he wasn’t sure what he was enjoying more; their envy or the feel of Hannah’s lips on his. A few loose strands of her golden hair were tickling his neck, and with one hand he pushed them away, smiling in spite of himself at the sensation of locks of long hair sliding through his fingers. Her mouth was small and warm and seemed to fit against his perfectly, her hand (ridiculously small in comparison to his) was perfectly moulded around his bicep.
It all ended far too quickly for his liking, although any longer and he’d have been struggling to breathe. It still didn’t feel like long enough. Pulling away, he sifted through the blonde hair tumbling across her shoulders, pushed a few locks behind her ear, and then looked at her, examining her and taking in her softened expression, trying to judge her reaction. She stroked a hand down his arm, grabbed his waist, and then all of a sudden she was pushing forwards and he was staggering a few steps back, the ground vanished from underneath his Supra-clad feet and he only realized that she had pushed him into the pool when he was hitting the water with a splash and sinking like a stone, fully-clothed with his peach-coloured shirt billowing in the water and his camel-coloured Chinos filling with water as he sank.
It was disorientating, sinking in that way, especially because once he’d hit the freezing cold surface of the water and gone straight through it, the bitter chill of it slicing through him so that it felt like he’d landed flat on his back on top of a glass table and it had shattered, sending spikes of shocking coldness shooting through his shoulder blades and slicing right through his vertebrae. His eyes had closed and when he opened them all he could see was the deep ultramarine blue of the walls and floor of the pool, reflecting through the water so that everything around him looked to be the same colour. He groped wildly in the water for a moment or so, grabbing at nothing, and then his fingers burst through the surface and he clawed at the air, kicking upwards with the frantic human survival instinct even though he could probably have quite easily touched the bottom and then swam back up again in twice the amount of time he took and still had plenty of breath left.
His head broke the surface of the water and although he hadn’t thought it was possible, the air above the water felt even colder than the water itself. Spluttering with both indignation and the intention of choking up all the water he’d inhaled, he grabbed the poolside with both hands and hoisted himself up a little so that he could glare at Hannah, who had her hands on her hips and was smirking down at him.
He had to flip a few sopping wet strands of hair off his forehead and spit some more water out before he let out an indignant, “Hey!”
“Hay is for horses,” Hannah said infuriatingly, grinning all over her face. “You’re a bit wet, aren’t you?” she said innocently.
Niall growled at her. “Funny! What the hell was that for?”
Hannah dropped to her knees and leaned over so that she could look down on him from a closer vantage point, close enough that she could say “Never dump a girl in freezing water, or even threaten to, if you value your life. But that wasn’t why I did it. If you wanted to kiss me, why didn’t you just ask, idiot? I’ve been waiting long enough.”
After a pause, where they both waited for her words to sink in, Niall’s jaw dropped so far that it hit the water with a splash, his chin sending droplets of water flying back up to hit him in the face. “I – you – we – you mean –” For a few more seconds, he struggled to process the announcement, then came the incredulous, “you’re not telling me you wanted me to do it? Like… you don’t fancy me too.”
She snorted and dropped a hand into the water to splash him playfully. “Trust me, matey; if you’d planted one on me and I didn’t fancy you too, we’d be going on our first date to A&E after a lovely dinner consisting of a knuckle sandwich.” Leaning back a little, she said, “of course I fancy you. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Wh – no!” Niall cried, “no it is not obvious! For God’s sake, why didn’t you say something? You know I’ve had a crush on you since Louis first introduced you, everybody does!”
“I wasn’t going to ask you out! I’m a girl! I absolutely refuse to do the asking. God, why do you think I make an idiot of myself every time there’s another guy around, did you think I did it for kicks? I knew it was the only way to get you to make a move, now shut up and kiss me, you idiot!” She leaned even further over the side in an incredibly precarious position, and that was when Niall seized the opportunity – and her wrists – and instantly yanked her in after him so that she crashed into the water with a shriek and a splash.
He caught her firmly by the waist as she tumbled in, so that she wasn’t even fully submerged in the water before she’d steadied herself (using his grip on her as an aid) and was expertly treading water, doing her best to look displeased but grinning in spite of herself. Niall pressed his forehead against hers and looked into her eyes until their close proximity meant that her blue irises blurred into one unsightly blob and his vision started to go fuzzy, making his eyes hurt, then he kissed her again, fiercely and unhesitant, pausing only to mutter,
“You are so going to regret making me wait, Hannah Walker.”
“Oh,” Hannah said, raising her eyebrows and grinning wickedly at him, “I know.”
~*~
“Have you got everything?” Louis asked as he lifted his third and final suitcase into the boot of the car, then reached absentmindedly out to curl an arm around Harry’s waist – but when no reassuring warm, slender body fit itself into the curve of his arm, he looked up to find that Harry was stood hugging his mum again. Tactfully, Louis dropped his gaze, feeling horribly intrusive. He’d only briefly been introduced to Harry’s mum, in fact, he was surprised she was consenting to allow her son to go on holiday with someone she’d only spoken to once or twice, but perhaps she’d seen them hanging around each other all holiday and knew that Harry would never go near someone he didn’t know he could trust implicitly. Maybe she was just relieved that he was finally being brave enough to go somewhere and do something by himself. Well. Not completely by himself.
Harry gave her a gentlemanly kiss on the cheek, which made Louis feel ever so slightly wobbly (not because he was thinking of being on the receiving end of it; because he was a little bit caught off-guard by just how sweet Harry was to his mother) and then ambled over to the car to join Louis. He surreptitiously brushed the back of his hand against Louis’ fingers and made a point of thoroughly examining the contents of the boot. Anxiously, his mother watched him with her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach, probably a motion reminiscent of her pregnancy; she still longed to protect Harry even though he wasn’t inside her any more. Even though he could, to some degree, now protect himself.
“Is she gonna be all right?” Louis asked quietly, pretending to check the fastenings on his suitcase. “She looks kind of freaked…have you ever actually gone anywhere without her before?”
Harry shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed. “A couple of school trips, the odd overnight stay with my grandparents, that kind of thing. She won’t kick up a fuss, don’t worry. She’s so pleased that I have a friend now that she’s one step short of dancing on the street.” He rolled his eyes.
“What about, ah…” Louis lowered his head, tugged at his collar. Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. “Does she know about…us?”
“One step at a time,” Harry said softly, “although I broke the news to her that I think I might be bisexual last night and she seemed to take it pretty well. She was very surprised, actually; I think that due to my previous lack of interest expressed towards anyone of any gender whatsoever she expected me to say I was asexual, to be honest, but she didn’t seem to object. She’ll put the rest of the puzzle together for herself, I think. Her son suddenly admits he’s bisexual and then disappears out of the blue on a mysterious holiday with a really hot guy he’s only known for a few weeks? I don’t think it’s too hard to fill in the blanks.”
In spite of himself, Louis couldn’t help but be flattered by the compliment, but he still sneaked Anne a somewhat anxious glance as he sidled slightly closer to Harry and whispered, breath tickling Harry’s ear, “Do you think she needs a hint?” His little finger slipped through Harry’s belt loop and tugged him a tiny bit closer; flustered and surprised, Harry’s face lit up and he leaned in, doing his best to block Louis’ movements from his mother.
“Well, I –”
“Perhaps I ought to rephrase that. What I meant to say was, do I have your permission to give her a hint?” He stood on his toes so he could reach Harry a little better, and his lips brushed against Harry’s ear as he whispered, “call me selfish, but I kind of want everyone to know that you’re mine.”
Grinning, Harry allowed him one slow, languid kiss, and he wondered as they kissed lazily exactly how much his mum was freaking out right now – after all, he was so shy about publicly displaying affection that he could hardly bear to hug her in public, and he hadn’t held her hand since he was about six – and whether it would be mean to leave her standing by the side of the road having a meltdown over the fact that her son was kissing someone who was, to her, a complete stranger, in full view of anyone who cared to ogle. Feeling a bit bad, he pulled away, only to find that Louis came with him, leaning forwards, trying not to let their mouths break apart.
“Stop,” Harry giggled when Louis insistently started kissing at his neck as well; he shoved him playfully, and Louis let out a long, drawn-out sigh and the returned his concentration to the deep purple mark he was making on the younger boy’s pale neck. “Lou, my mum’s staring!”
“Let her look,” Louis murmured, and then he did pause and ask, “do you honestly want me to stop, or are you just saying that?” His expression was serious; if Harry had looked him in the eyes and told him to cut it out, he would have done just that.
“Of course I don’t want you to stop,” Harry said softly, sliding his arms around Louis’ waist and rubbing slow circles on his back, “but I think you probably should. The taxi’s going to start charging, you know, if we hang about much longer. These people are vultures. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d set the meter running already.”
With a groan, Louis rested his forehead on Harry’s shoulder. “Damn you for being so sensible,” he said quietly, and then his hand shot out and landed a playful smack on Harry’s backside. With a squawk, Harry went to return it, laughing all the while, but the mischievous Louis had already darted around to the side of the car, way out of reach. Shaking his head, Harry followed, the grin on his face so wide he was astonished he could maintain it, and he watched as Louis laid his hand on the handle of the car door.
“Your carriage, milady,” Louis said with a flaming grin, and then he flamboyantly jerked the car door open and an enormous pile of roses cascaded out of the taxi in a waterfall of blazing scarlet and fell all over the pavement in a pile so tall that it came above his knee.
For a few moments, Louis stared stupidly at the pile of blooms on the pavement, and then he distractedly swiped a stray piece of hair out of his eyes. “Oh.”
Harry gave a little snort of laughter and flattened it behind his hand. “Smooth, Lou.”
“It would have been romantic if it had happened yesterday!” objected Louis, and then he poked his head through the car window and said to the driver, “I don’t understand, what are all these roses still doing here?”
“What, did you expect me to clear ‘em all out for you, Romeo? No chance. If you want to start running a florists in my cab, then you can bloody well move the goods yourself. I deliberately came on this shout just so I could watch you clear every last flower petal out of my upholstery afterwards.” The driver smirked.
Helplessly, Louis turned to Harry and shrugged. “It would have been romantic! But you got in the wrong taxi yesterday, and now we have to drive to the airport with a taxi full of roses…I’m sorry!” He buried his face in his hands.
Rather than getting annoyed, Harry burst out laughing. He grabbed Louis and hauled him into an enormous hug. “This is a sign, isn’t it?” he whispered against Louis’ neck. “With you, things are never going to be normal again, are they?”
Louis’ grip tightened on his waist and he pulled Harry a little closer, standing on his toes so he could more easily reach. “Nope,” he whispered.