ii.
"What the fuck did you have me read?"
Niall drops the copy of Blood Meridian that Y/N had given him down on the counter in front of her, where she'd been hunched over for the last hour taking inventory and when she startles from the thud of the book against the dark granite, a scratch of red ink stains over the bold black lines of her chart. No matter his two weeks here, she was still getting used to someone being in the store with her apart from the weird hours that Harry frequents. The second day he'd come in, she forgot that she'd left the door open for him in the first place, and when she'd walked out of the bathroom to be immediately greeted with him turning around the corner she'd jumped so far out of her skin that she managed to reverberate her fear off of him.
He was nice enough and having someone touching the books and walking around the shop other than her wasn't as bad as she thought it to be. She'd taken Harry's advice and made an effort to get to know him; had constructed an application that – after the standard necessities like his name, number, past experience – included sections inquiring his likes, dislikes, favorite books, favorite movie etc. And after reading it and inviting him back in, she brought in a plate of cookies, had him come in an hour or so before opening, and had a conversation with him. They didn't really go beyond surface level things (apart from what she'd known from their night at the bar where he'd given her a play by play of what he'd gone through in the past month), but she did learn more about what kind of person he was. He has a grumpy looking face but for the most part he was pretty sweet; he had an affinity for chocolate chip cookies, his only hobby beyond a little bit of doodling here or there, was cooking. Niall had told her that he hoped to save up some money working here so that he'd be able to save up to go to culinary school.
That morning, as she was getting ready to open the store and told him that if he wanted he could start working today, he'd asked Y/N if she and Harry were together. "I hope 'm not pushing," he'd added when she took a moment to respond, "You lot just seem real close to one another."
After she told him that they weren't it had thrown her into a whole turmoil. Did they look like they were together? Were they acting like they were a couple? She very vaguely remembers that night before the point of going to his flat, climbing into his bed, and letting him steal her breath with such a soft, sweet kiss that was so tender she could still feel it on her lips. Could feel the warmth of his air breathed through his nose atop her upper lip, the faint bitter taste of his drink on his tongue, how it felt when he'd pulled her leg over his hip to tug her closer to him, and what it felt like when she felt the hard bump in his pants up against her. The memory of it had her feeling a little warm.
She and Harry had not spoken of it, but their friendship had definitely extended from what it had been. There was a lot more touching and a lot more longing gazes and a lot more of Y/N staring at his lips when he's speaking to her and trying to not look completely obvious when he asks what's on her mind. It makes her heart race being around him much more than it did before and her brain flooding with memories of them pressed together wasn't helping. Nor were the memories of her waking up to his right arm slung around her waist, chin to her shoulder and legs tangled, his gentle breathing lulling her to sleep. And it certainly didn't help when she woke the second time to the smell of syrup and the sizzling of a skillet to find Harry had made her eggs and waffles, a big grin on his face when she waddles out, her overalls straps having slung off her shoulders and the front flapped over, "Good morning, Sleepyhead, I've made us food."
Neither had brought it up and Y/N was beginning to wonder if he'd even remembered it. Both of them had been pretty far gone but Y/N doesn't think she could've forgotten that kissed even if she'd drank to the point of blacking out – it would've shown through the dark in one prominent, bright speck. But she keeps her mouth sewn shut every time the mention of it bubbles in her throat, instead choosing to enjoy the closeness that came afterward, without the burden of speaking through it and figuring out her feelings because she's not good with them. As much as she wanted to know exactly what she wanted and how she wanted, she didn't, because her last relationship had been a sophomore year of college and after that, she'd sworn off boys for the time being. Said she wouldn't bother with them until she'd opened her store, gotten settled, and was on the path she wanted to be on, but after so long of not being interested, for Harry to come crashing into her life and being sweet, and real, and all these things she could think to want in someone? It was overwhelming, to say the least.
