The President's Son [narry]

5- Meet Us In The Middle Of The Night

If someone offered me the chance to pick one moment of this story to re live, I don’t think I’d hesitate. I would pick the first night we spent together and I wouldn’t change a thing of it, not even a tiny little detail. I would just sit there to quietly stare at him, desperately trying to feel the thrill I felt back in those days again. When Niall was a whole new world to discover and we were clueless about everything that would follow. So innocent to think it was okay to fall for each other.

“Harry?” he called me from the end of the hall.

As soon as I saw him, I had to fight hard against my sudden need to even squeal or laugh. He couldn’t have looked more ridiculous and yet he was staring at me with such confusion on his face, as if he had no idea of how wrong those pajamas were for his age. The top was all yellow, so yellow that if the lights were on, I’m sure it would have hurt my eyes. The sleeves were longer than they should be, I guess, because I couldn’t even spot his hands. The pants were the worst –and more adorable- part of it. Also yellow but mottled with a gazillion little brown teddy bears. A few days later, I found out that each bear had a different “job”, which made it kind of cool but as from I was standing, it just looked painfully childish.

“Excuse me?” he brought my eyes back to his face.

“Sorry, the teddy bears stampede was distracting me,” I bit my lower lip, trying to prevent myself from laughing.

“What?”

“What are you wearing?” I was so eager to hear his answer.

“My pajamas,” he lowered his eyebrows as he looked down to his own pants, “I mean, my sleeping clothes,” he seemed so embarrassed, “I just,” I should have interrupted him to save him from the awkwardness but I was too amused watching his reaction, “Let me go change,” he said and quickly turned around to walk away.

“Hey,” I stopped him, “Come on, you don’t have to.”

“But you are laughing at me.”

“I‘m not laughing,” I lied.

“I can see your dimples from here.”

“Well, it’s kind of funny If you think about it,” I confessed as he sat on the floor, right next to me, “But don’t worry, everyone has, at least, one pair of pajamas they should be ashamed of,” I winked and he laughed, “Oh, I mean sleeping clothes.”

“Is not like I use it everyday, my other stuff is in the laundry.”

“What’s the other stuff like? Manly sleeping clothes?”

“Shut up,” he laughed, “I bet your pajamas look as ridiculous as mine.”

“I don’t wear pajamas.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m a grown up. Grown up men don’t wear pajamas.”

“Says who? My dad wears one,” he got serious for a second and then burst out a laugh.

“Hey, you are going to wake everyone up,” I shushed him.

“How do you sleep then?”

“With my boxers.”

“Oh,” he took a long pause, which I weirdly enjoyed, “What are you doing here anyways?”

“Well,” I remembered to skip the Louis part of it, “I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk. What about you? You went to bed four hours ago.”

“I couldn’t sleep either.”

“I thought some fresh air would do me fine but then I got lost, so I sat here out of frustration,” I tried my best to earn one of his pretty smiles again, “I was afraid to open any windows and have the alarm going crazy on me.”