It's raining outside; they said it'd be snowing by the beginning of next week. I couldn't finish a presentation for school today. The cafeteria at school was full so I had to sit with Leanne. They didn't have Coke so now I'm drinking Pepsi. I'm at her work place when she isn't.

I sigh after finally ungluing my eyes from the window, and look down at my glass; nothing is going right today.

Everything is actually so wrong, that I'm beginning to imagine what things would be like if I'd stayed in Ireland now. Maybe school would be going better. Maybe more people would understand me when I'm speaking. Maybe girls would be still classified as a simple subject. Maybe-

Maybe I wouldn't be seeing her running inside the small diner, with a newspaper over her head – even though she's wearing a beanie – and cussing loudly despite quite a few people that are inside too.

A smile appears on my face – for probably one of the first times today, as I watch her walk to the counter; no, I definitely wouldn't be seeing this if I'd stayed in Ireland. It's amazing how she can brighten my shitty day by just being in my sight.

I lean to the right, deciding not to call her over. She's talking to the blonde, curly-haired girl whom I've told to let Angel know I'm here – and as if on cue, she looks over her shoulder and our eyes meet for a few seconds, during which I send her a small wave and a smile, and she rolls her eyes.

Looks like I'm not the only one having a bad day, then. "What are you even doing here?" She asks, still walking toward me, and shaking her head too. I knew that would be her first question.

"Came for another lobster," I tell her, narrowing my eyes a little. "What the hell do you think I'm doing?"

She sighs a little, and flops down on the red bench across from me, facing the right. "I thought you'd given up," She says in a flat tone, and purses her lips after to make it seem even more casual.

"What do you mean?" I ask, leaning back in my own seat.

"I mean, I thought you'd given up."

"On what?"

"On me."

I'm surprised that her tone is a little angry; almost like she's pissed that I haven't given up. "You should have known better," I say, almost ask, as I continue looking at her. While she, naturally, isn't looking at me at all.

"No, but after Friday night... that's the only reasonable thing you could have done."

I blink a couple times, "I have so many questions about what you just said," I say, almost through a laugh as I think about her words. Somehow I always have to decode them; like now, I'm wondering whether she thinks like that because there's a reason she didn't want anything to happen between us that night, or because of the guy that's knocked on her door while I was there, or maybe because of who the guy was. And about fifteen thousand other things, but these are the main three.

Angel rolls her eyes and keeps them focused on the ceiling for a few moments. "Don't you always?" She mutters and surprises me as she turns toward me, making eye contact all of a sudden. "Since I'm in a relatively good mood, give me one of them."

I smile, amused; this is what she calls a relatively good mood? "Well, since I'm polite, first I'm gonna ask you how's your day been, and-"

I cut myself off, and lean over the table, scanning her face with a frown. "And what happened to your face?"

"Nothing," She says – more like shoots the words out of a shotgun, and leans away from me, covering her left cheekbone with her hand. The exact spot I was asking about.

"Angel," I call, since she's looking outside the window now. "Angel, who the hell-"

"I fell, okay?" She interrupts me, "I was... I was mopping the floor last night and I remembered I forgot my purse so I went to get it, and when I walked out I... I fell. I fell and hit the counter."

I blink again and lean back in my seat, taking in her entire appearance in. "You don't have your purse with you now."

She knows I'm saying that because I'm testing her; obviously I know that no such thing as a purse is the reason she's got that yellow bruise under her eye. I just want to push her until she breaks and tells me the actual truth. And I have a feeling that that's not going to happen, and I'm also trying to ignore that little feeling.

"I... I needed it yesterday because I didn't have time to put my make-up on at home," She says and sits up. Lies. "So I needed to bring my make-up bag with me and I had to put it in a purse."

"Right," I say, playing along. "And I'm guessing you put your make-up on today, then?"

This time she blinks, and looks away for a couple seconds. "I was lacking time today too. And since I was in a hurry, I forgot my purse."

If she wasn't lying, she probably wouldn't even care to give me this much information. So now when she feels like she needs to give me an explanation for everything, I'm not exactly 100% sure she's talking the truth.

"That's bullshit," I say and Angel rolls her eyes, but still refuses to look into mine. "Tell me what the fuck happened to you."

To my slight surprise she chuckles, and shakes her head as she taps her fingers against the table. "Where's marijuana when you need it?" She mumbles to herself and before I can react to that, she runs a hand through her hair and looks at me. About damn time.

"I fell. That's one of the human things I do," Angel tells me, and I actually can't believe that she thinks I'd drop it this easily. Last time I saw her there was an extremely angry man knocking on her door; and now she comes to work with her face looking like that.

"No you don't," I shook my head, "You don't just fall, people don't just fall-"

"Oh, I fall," She chuckles, now nodding. "I fall all the time."

Leave it to me to wonder if she meant that literally or figuratively. I tilt my head to the side and keep watching her for a few seconds, during which her humorous smile disappears and she's looking down again.

It actually hurts that she doesn't think I'm worth the truth; it's either that, or the fact that she doesn't even trust me. Yet somehow, I can understand her – she's known me for less than two weeks. And I've already realized that she's never just going to tell me something she's not comfortable with. Hell, even the things she is comfortable with, I have to drag them out of her. Like now, I've wanted her to spit the truth out more than ever before, but I guess I knew in the back of my mind it wouldn't happen just like that.

Doesn't make me any less hurt, though.

"Me too," I say after a long silence, and Angel looks up at me with a frown; she's probably forgotten what we were talking about. "I fall too."

"Don't pull that shit on me," She narrows her eyes and shakes her head, and even though she's potentially actually annoyed, I can't help but laugh a little. "If you think I'm gonna sit here and have a deep-ass conversation about falling, you can leave right now."

With that, she stands up and starts walking back to the counter, where her co-worker is, unzipping her jacket in the process. After a few moments of watching her leave I stand up too, and follow her to the other side of the room. Only she goes in a room behind, and I stay at the counter.

For a few moments I just sit on the stool and pick at the shiny surface, when I notice the girl I've seen earlier, wiping the counter top, seemingly not even noticing me. "How long have you known her?" I ask, a little out of the blue.

The girl looks up at me and raises her eyebrows, as if she's surprised about something. "Hm?" Is all she says. She isn't surprised; she just didn't hear me.

"Angel," I begin, "How long have you known her?"

"Ang- oh, um, I... about three years," She says as she nods, "Since she's started working here."

I nod too, "She was twenty when she started?"

"Yeah, and she was-" The girl stops mid-sentence and looks around, before looking at me a little wide-eyed. "Sick. I mean, nothing contagious. She just had to leave for a few months."

I frown; why am I so suspicious about everything anyone tells me? "What was she sick of?"

"Um..." There she goes again, looking around. "Dunno, really. She never talked about it. She never talks about herself in general, either."

I nod to myself; that's one thing I can confirm myself too. "Can you tell me something, though?" I ask, and she stops doing what she's doing to look at me. "How good are you two? As friends, I mean."

"Well," She starts slowly, "We tell people we're best friends, so... I guess that's what we are."

"Do you know the basic things about her?" I ask, not waiting to hear if she has anything else to say. "Like, favorite food, music... if she's seeing anyone?"

The girl – whose name I finally catch on her shiny tag – smiles, and looks up for a few seconds. "Um, I know that she doesn't like meat. Like, any kind of meat. She doesn't call herself a vegetarian, but she doesn't eat anything that's made of living beings."

Natasha pauses, and lets out a small puff of air while thinking. "She likes salami sandwiches, though. That's the only 'meaty' thing she'll ever eat."

"Okay," I nod slowly; even though that isn't exactly the first question I'd wanted her to answer me, it's nice to find out things about Angel. Even if it's coming from her friend.

"Um, then, what did you ask about? Music. Well. She doesn't listen to music often. I don't think she even owns a pair of headphones, which is really weird. Just another weird thing about her. But if she's already listening to something, it's got to be The 1975."

I'm a little amused with the annoyed look on her face. "I literally know every word to every song by that band because of her, and let me tell you, whoever listens to them for the first time, won't understand shit. And their music in general, it's so weird. Like I don't think I've heard anything like that before. And then along came Lana Del Rey, and Florence and The Machine, and basically- my music taste took a 180 degrees turn and soon I didn't even care about Maroon 5 and the normal stuff I used to listen to."

She places her hands on the counter and sighs; I've a feeling she's still struggling with her change of taste in music. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. What else did you ask about?"

"If she's seeing anyone," I reply slowly, because I'd almost forgotten myself what I'd asked earlier, and because I'm a little scared of her answer.

At my question though, Natasha's expression becomes twice as serious as before. "Um, like a boyfriend? No," She says, making me wait for the last word a few painful moments. "She doesn't have a boyfriend. But I think she likes you. I'm pretty sure of it, actually."

I blink at that, and repeat her words in my head. So I'd know I'm not imagining stuff. "What do you mean, does she talk about me?"

"You're Niall, right?" She grins, and for some reason I feel like she's happy that I'm Niall.

I nod once, and her grin widens. "Yeah, she told me about you. Which is a fucking miracle, because I've never heard her speak about anyone. Her family, friends, literally, no one."

"What did she say about me?" Now that I've pinched myself enough times and know that I'm definitely not imagining things, I really want to know what she's said about me. Kind of like a teenage girl – which is basically what I've been since I've met her.

"Um, she mostly talks about how annoying you are," Natasha bites her lip and, yeah, all of my excitement goes down the road. "In a cute way, though. Like a school boy, she finds it amusing. But don't worry," She begins again as she notices my expression change. "She's the type of person that would never admit they like someone. Used to being all by herself, you know?"

I nod again, and keep quiet. Since she said that Angel's 'used to being all by herself', I doubt she knows about the guy that knocked on the door, so I don't really have any questions. But I'm fine with what I've gotten; as long as someone else besides Angel is telling me that she doesn't have a boyfriend, I'm good.

To think, the night that I met her I said to myself that I'm not going to date her. And now, thirteen days later, here I am; coming to her work place instead of going home after school. Being anxious about her seeing someone that's not me. Actually knowing how many days have passed since I met her.

"You seem like a nice guy." I look up at Natasha, who's looking down. "And, well, to be fair, it's not exactly nice guys that she attracts."

"What kind of guys does she attract?"

"Just... not like you," She looks up at me, with a bit of a hopeful look in her eyes. "So, I mean, I know I'm kind of meddling and all, but... if you could make sure that you stay in her life for as long as possible... that'd be great. Especially for her."

I feel like all I can do is nod; because that's what I keep doing. I keep nodding. Because she doesn't give me a single reason for anything. "Okay," I say quietly. "I'll... I'll try."

Natasha smiles, just as Angel walks out of the small room in her apron, slamming the door shut several times before she actually closes them. She walks to the other end of the counter – muttering cuss words under her breath, just like when she came – and stood beside her best friend, apparently.

"Well, I'm ready to take over. So you can go home and enjoy this beautiful day," Angel says in a flat tone, taking the same cloth Natasha was holding two minutes ago and doing the same thing all over again.

"Um, you know what?" Her friend glances at me before continuing, "Ash is stuck at work, won't be here for another half hour. I'll just work until then," She shrugs and, if looks could kill, Angel would be barbecuing her best friend. Even though she doesn't like meat and everything.

"No, I'm pretty good-"

"Come on, I've nowhere to go! And... and Niall's here, so you could just go find a booth and-and talk while I'm here, yeah?" Natasha's voice was a pitch higher as she spoke, causing Angel to stare at her for a few seconds, before sighing and throwing the cloth in her hands.

I raise my eyebrows as she starts walking around the counter, until she's right in front of me. "How much did you pay her to lie for you?" She mutters as she crosses her arms, and I smirk at that.

"I didn't have to pay her, she already likes me." Now Angel raises her brows, "Since you've told her about me and everything."

She only rolls her eyes, but I'm sure she wants to kill the blond girl for doing that. "So, which booth should we get?" I can't even believe how confident I am all of a sudden; but for some reason, knowing that she thinks about me when I'm not there is making me ecstatic.

"I'm not getting a booth with you," She says, but it's too late; I've already brought my hand around her waist and now I'm pulling her forward and, miraculously, she's letting me lead the way. Whatever way I'm going.

I continue walking to the other end of the diner, and spot a booth in the corner. Angel stops walking when we're practically right at the table, but that doesn't stop me from sitting on one of the benches and sprawling, just so she could see how comfortable I am. She shakes her head at how stupid I probably look, but I notice one of the ends of her mouth curl upwards.

"Idiot," She mumbles as she shakes her head, and I grin at her; she's still got her arms crossed and is looking across the restaurant, pretending I'm not even here.

"Come on," I say loudly, almost through a whine, and she finally looks at me; scans my face, while the smile on her face slowly widens, for some reason. "You know you'd rather be here, with me." My voice keeps getting quieter as I speak. "It's cold where you're standing. And I bet you'd rather be sitting, anyway. And I bought a new fabric softener, so my jacket smells kinda great."

Angel frowns, and I can barely contain my silly grin when she slowly starts walking around the table and toward me. "You wash your own clothes?" She asks; as if it's unbelievable that I was my clothes.

"Yeah. Don't have my mum to do it for me," I smile as I watch her turn around and sit next to me, her arms still crossed as she looks in front of herself. Of course I scoot closer, and put my arm on the backrest behind her.

"Niall," She whines when she notices what I'm doing, "Don't get so close to me."

"Why not?"

"I bite."

I chuckle as I lean my head toward her, "Of course you do." I place a few kisses on her sweater-covered shoulder, to which she leans her head to the other side. Opposite of me.

"Hey," I nearly whisper between short kisses, "Look at me."

"Why?"

"So I could kiss you."

She frowns and turns her head to the left, but she can only see my nose and eyes since my lips are still against her shoulder. "Why would you kiss me?"

"Because I want to."

"...Why would I want you to kiss me?"

"Because you just want me to."

Angel scowls again, "How the hell would you know-"

"Oh, could you just shut up?" I interrupt her, raising my head from its spot on her shoulder so I could properly look at her. "You can't even let a guy be cute to you."

As she bursts into a short laughing fit, I realize just how that sounded. "This is you being cute?"

"Well I'm trying to," I say, lowering my head to her shoulder again. "It'd be nice if you could join me."

I feel her shaking her head after that, "You really think you can just come into my life and turn my world upside down?"

"I do," I reply immediately, sounding a lot more confident about the answer than I actually feel. "Now let me kiss you."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you're being a conceited twat."

"Are you always this difficult?" I ask as I lift my head up again, but this time I keep my face close to hers. Angel laughs at my question – which surprises me – again, and then turns her head toward me, almost bumping her nose into mine as she does. For a few seconds her eyes go from mine to my lips and the other way around, before she finally looks into my eyes for good.

She then shakes her head, her lips forming her infamous smirk. "You have no idea."

And I'm afraid that I really don't.

*******

Dedicated to @littlemiss_hannah because that was such a lovely compliment awe ily

And please vote and comment! (you should know by now that those things motivate me yeah)