"You're fucking crazy!" I shout, in a casual tone, but she just keeps walking. "You're gonna get soaked and sick and then you'll die and- and she did it." I mutter the last part to myself, bringing my cup of coffee to my mouth.

"It's the middle of November!" She shouts back, her arms outstretched, and I'm just waiting for her to start dancing in the middle of the street. "This is probably the last rain of the year, come join me!"

I shake my head, more in disbelief than as an answer to her kind offer. When I called and asked her out for a coffee around an hour ago, I had no idea I'd be standing under a roof in front of some building, watching her twirl around in the rain. It might be because I never took her as a type of person that would want to dance in the rain. Or dance at all. Or have fun, in general. But now it's like I got all three of those at once, and it's hard to take in.

She's dancing in the rain. Angel is dancing in the rain and having a fun time.

Nope, still not sinking in. "Your coffee's getting cold," I say loudly so she'd hear me, but I still get no reaction from her. "You might get hit by a car. Or a truck. Or a boat."

I keep trying to get her off the street, partly because I'm actually scared that some drunk might be driving in her direction right about now, but nothing I say seems to be working. She must have had another glass of scotch before she closed the restaurant.

"You're no fun." Now she's just standing in the middle of the road, just looking up at the sky. And a part of me actually wants to be there with her. "You go around pretending you're so much more fun than me, but when I wanna do something, you just bail on me."

"This isn't exactly my definition of fun, love," I chuckle, gripping my paper cup with both hands to warm my hands, and wonder how the fuck is she not shaking because of the cold. She's only wearing a button-up shirt and her leather jacket that are completely soaked; I'd be twitching and lying in a fetal position if I were her.

"Yeah, of course it isn't." And she's finally walking toward me, I mean, fucking finally. "Your definition of fun is probably the opposite of fun."

I scowl, though when I look outside of my nerd box, it's only reasonable that she thinks that. "I beg to differ," I say in a fake offended tone, as she keeps walking toward me at a painfully slow pace, a smirk spreading across her wet face just as slowly. I feel like this is going to be painful for me.

"There you have it," She points at me, "What kind of a fun person uses the term 'I beg to differ'?"

"An educated one," I reply quickly, to which her smile widens until she's almost laughing, and shakes her head lightly. I can almost hear her thoughts, saying 'why am I even hanging out with this, this... person?'

"Educated, hm?" She raises her eyebrows, pretending to be fascinated. Asshole. "That's so sexy, tell me more about your education."

Yeah, she definitely had a glass of something before we met up. "Well," I start slowly, deciding to play along. "It begins with this thing where you purchase books, and stay up until the sun has risen to study from them."

"Books? Studying?" Angel cuts me off, leaning forward so she's close enough to get my clothes wet too. I think this is a good time to start gathering self-control. "Goodness gracious, I'm practically soaking."

"Yeah," I chuckle, looking down at her white shirt and leather jacket, and the little droplets of water falling from them and onto my jeans and shoes. "You're dripping. You'll get sick."

I'd be dumb if I didn't know that we're not talking about the same thing. "Oh don't worry about me, I haven't gotten sick since-"

She abruptly stops talking, and if she wasn't that close to me, I wouldn't be able to see the slight grimace she's started making. "Oh, fucking hell," Is all she says before quickly turning her face to the side, and sneezing loudly in her hand. And I'd be laughing right now if I wasn't actually concerned.

"Honestly, I'm gonna be-" Sneeze. "What the actual-" Another one. "Seriously, this is-" And another one. "Ugh, are you happy now, asswipe?"

"Oh, I'm overjoyed," I grin, but I was actually expecting this the entire time. The clothes she's wearing are barely enough to keep her warm while she's dry – and after dancing in the rain, well, it was just a matter of time she started sneezing. In her defense, she's not superhuman, after all. "Here you go," I bend down to pick up her cup of coffee and give it to her, after I'd put it on the ground so it wouldn't get wet. "Now let's go."

"Wait, where are we going?"

"My place."

Angel sighs, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't expecting that. "Niall, if you're planning-"

"I'm not planning anything," I immediately cut her off, my tone overly innocent, and put an arm around her shoulder while she looks at me skeptically. "I just want to make sure you don't get sick, that's all."

"So you're taking me to your place?"

"I am."

"Wouldn't it make more sense if you took me to my place, where my clothes are?"

I purse my lips; she just has to spell everything out on purpose, doesn't she? "It would. But I have clothes too, you know."

"And you want to see me in your clothes so you could wank to my image when I leave?"

I narrow my eyes slightly as I look at her smirking face; and decide it's time I wiped off her smug expression. "Do you really want to know the answer to that question?"

As expected, the smile on her face fades slightly. "Not really, no."

Ha.

The answer is no, by the way. I think.

*******

"Could you hurry up a little?"

I smirk to myself as I keep looking through some of my drawers, successful at finding a hoodie and sweats for her to wear for a while. It's gonna be cute to see her in clothes that aren't skin tight; cute as in fucking confusing, of course.

"Alright, open the door and give me your clothes," I tell her, loudly as I walk toward the door of my bathroom.

There's silence for a few moments, "Why'd you need my clothes?"

"So I could dig through your pockets and steal your weed," I reply in a casual tone, not at all worried that she might take me seriously. "Why do you think I want your clothes?"

"Do you have a dryer or something?"

"Yeah,  there's a laundry room in the basement. That's where I'm planning to take your precious leather jacket and jeans skinnier than your neck."

"Good, I wanna know where you're taking my babies before you take them there," She plays along and opens the bathroom door just a little bit, poking her arm out and handing me her jeans, then her shirt and then the infamous black jacket.

"Your babies are safe, here you go." She blindly grabs the hoodie and sweats from my hand, and shuts the door immediately. Not saying anything at all.

"Right, you're welcome," I nearly shout, and try ignoring the fact that there's only a wooden door separating me from her naked body. And considering the size of my bathroom, she's a mere foot away from me. And since there's no key to lock the door with, I could just walk right in.

I'm not really doing myself a favor, am I?

I lightly shake my head, to clear my thoughts, and make my way outside the apartment before I did something stupid. It's a good thing that my apartment is on the second floor of the building, it doesn't take me long to walk down the stairs and get to the laundry room. And my building doesn't have an elevator so I would probably be on crutches right now, if I lived any higher. That's another good thing. I can still play lacrosse between class.

I'd barely put her clothes in the dryer, when I hear footsteps coming from behind me. I was expecting to see a neighbor – despite the fact that it's nearly eleven at night, and no one really comes here even during the day – but when I look over my shoulder, I spot Angel walking toward me. And I notice her rolling her eyes when I do a double take.

"I think that look answers my earlier question," She says casually, as she walks to sit on the dryer next to the one I'm using. "Okay, now you're becoming creepy."

I shake my head quickly, and focus on the dryer again. "Sorry, I'm just..." Utterly shocked that you're wearing blue sweatpants and my Eagles shirt. Then again, you look like someone who likes the Eagles. You actually look like someone who could be in the Eagles.

"You're wearing colors," I finally say, still avoiding to look at her as I close the dryer and press a button. "I've never seen you in colors. And I just got that figured out."

"Yeah, well..." She looks down at the clothes she's wearing, and shrugs. "If you're not with me the next time I get soaked while dancing in the rain, you probably won't see me in colors again."

Her voice keeps getting lower and lower as I make my way in front of her, until it turns into a whisper at the end of her sentence, when my face is just a few inches away from hers. "Then I'll make sure to call you every time it rains."

Angel grins, glancing at my lips and- is that a good sign? Because it feels like it's a really good sign. "What makes you think I'll pick up?"

"What makes you think you won't?" I ask back, continuing to lean forward while she keeps leaning backwards. If this doesn't stop, I might have to climb onto the dryer myself. Not that I have a problem with that, but... the dryer underneath us might.

She narrows her eyes at me, an amused look on her face, "You get cocky when other people wear your clothes, you know."

"Only when it's a pretty girl."

Her grin slightly fades as she puts her arms beside her body, her elbows holding her up as she tilts her head slightly to the side. "You got good with your words," She tells me, in a completely casual tone because, well, why the hell shouldn't we have a chill conversation while I'm practically hovering over her and can literally feel her breath on my face? Nothing difficult about that, at all. "And for some reason, I feel like I'm responsible for that."

"Well, you are the only girl I've been sweet-talking to in the past couple of weeks," I shrug, "So thanks."

"What about that other girl?" Her grin returns, making her look amused – not as amused as she probably is though. "The blond one. Brown-eyed one. The one that ran away from your date because of me."

"Oh, she was good," I decide to play along, but hey, isn't that what we've been doing the entire night? "Everything I'd want in a girl. Smart, pretty, shy, giggled whenever I said something cute and made winning a race in Need For Speed quite a challenge."

Angel nods, an impressed look on her face. When the fuck are we going to stop with this? "She sounds dreamy."

"Yeah. You wanna hear the list of cons?" I ask, and mentally high-five myself in advance. "She's not you. The end."

"God, I can't believe I believed when you said you weren't planning anything," She tells me, completely ruining the moment. Not that it's not normal for her to do that. "I can't believe I'm in your building and wearing your clothes and almost letting you kiss me, what was I think-"

"In my defense, I wasn't planning this. At all, I swear." I lean back a little, so that I can properly look at her face. "Trying to kiss you is what I regularly do when we're together."

She smiles widely again – and this time I really take it as a good sign. "Oh, come on," I groan just a few moments later, when I try to lean in again but she just lies all the way down, her head on the dryer opposite of the one she's sat on. And of course she's gonna find my annoyance funny.

"That was kiss-worthy, don't you agree?" I take advantage of our awkward positions to lean down and kiss her neck, and take her lack of reaction to it as a green light. "Have I not suffered enough?"

"Not... quite." I lift my head and try capturing her lips with mine, but they only land on her cheek when she turns her head away from me. I'm gonna have to find this a little frustrating – of course, if a little means that I'm going to fucking explode any second now.

"I haven't earned it yet?" I raise my brows as I remember what she'd told me nearly a week ago, and I'm not surprised when she shakes her head. I'm pretty sure that, even if I named a star after her, she'd still shake her head.

I nod curtly, "Alright." But we both know it's not just alright. And we both also know that she's not going anywhere before midnight; I could make something happen before midnight, right? I could earn something before she leaves. Yeah, it shouldn't be that hard. She's not made of steel.

Jesus, not even I believed that.

*******

An hour later I'm sitting on my couch, opening my third bottle of beer and humming along to the Dawson's Creek theme song, while waiting for Angel to come from... wherever the hell she went. The bathroom, the laundry room... her own apartment?

Luckily, just when I start thinking that I might have zoned out when she said goodbye, I hear the bathroom door open. And if it's not a burglar that's walked in while I was zoned out, then I can't be anyone but her. Her – in her own clothes.

"Well, that was nice..." Angel sighs as she flops down on the couch next to me, and takes her joint from the ashtray on the coffee table. "But I'm probably gonna stick with skinny jeans and leather jackets. No offense to your dorky clothes."

A few seconds later she slowly turns her head to me, when she notices me staring at her. "Niall?"

"Can I say something," I begin, "And you don't punch me for it?"

Her lips curl upwards in an entertained smile; and I don't know if it's the beer I've had so far, or the remotely unfamiliar smoke flowing through the air – that I'm not really accustomed to, by the way – but I feel like this is the perfect opportunity for me to say something stupid. As in, stupider than the things I normally say. And the things I normally say are only slightly stupid compared to what I'm about to say.

"My heart wants to say yes," Angel tells me, making me blink a couple of times. "But the part of me that's ready to punch you anytime really doesn't want to hear you out."

I blink another few times, because that's all I can do under the influence of... whatever the fuck I'm under the influence of. "I would cut my legs off to see you naked."

If she could choke on smoke, that's exactly what would have happened; but she just quickly removes the joint from her lips, the smoke coming out of her mouth in puffs as she laughs. And laughs. And laughs. And I'd probably be embarrassed if I were in the right mindset.

Good thing I'm not. "You should probably slow down on the beer. Where'd you get alcohol, anyway?"

"You should probably slow down on the weed in my apartment," I point out, my eyes a little wide. If someone saw us like this, they'd probably think I'm the one smoking and drinking, and she's just sitting next to me, for some reason. Why is she sitting next to me? Why am I sitting next to her, why aren't we doing anything?

Yeah, I think I forgot who I'm sitting next to for a second.

"Well, I'm sorry," Angel sighs, yanking me out of my thoughts again. "I couldn't help myself."

She takes another few drags, all the while looking right ahead of her, at the TV. "You're still staring at me, aren't you?" She asks after a good minute of silence.

"Can I do something, and you don't punch me for it?" I ask, my lips staying parted at the end, and looking at her like I'm about to collapse on the floor. I kinda feel like that too.

Angel sighs, not in a really annoyed way. "It's your home, I don't see why not," She says, and – I'm positive that it's because of the smoke, but – that sounded oddly British. I should know, I sat beside a Brit in Chem class for two years.

I nod despite my thoughts, and pick up the green bottle to take two long gulps, before carefully leaving it back on the coffee table, and turning to Angel again. Now she's looking at me, her eyebrows slightly raised as she gives me a look that says 'whatever you wanna do, don't do it'.

It's a little too late for that now, I think to myself as I lean toward her, making sure to take her hands in mine before leaning all the way forward and finally pressing my lips against hers. I can feel my soul being dragged to the darkest and hottest corner of hell for this, but my hazed mind doesn't really care for it right now.

To my surprise – utter shock, actually – Angel doesn't make a single move. She's not really kissing me back, but she's not trying to throw me through a wall either. I take that as a good sign and slowly let go of her hands, mine going to her waist, expecting her to do something with hers. And a minute later, she does – it's just that I was expecting her to place her hands on my face, or my neck, or my hair.

I was not, however, expecting her to slap me into next week. And sitting here, gripping the coffee table so that I wouldn't fall off the couch from how powerful that impact was, I can't help but feel stupid that I wasn't expecting her to do that.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry! I swear I didn't mean to hit you that hard," Angel apologizes – with a laugh that doesn't really make her apology sound as genuine as it might be – and she pulls me by my sweatshirt up on the sofa next to her. "Are you okay?"

"I think I'm gonna throw up," I mumble, but as she starts laughing again, I know she's heard me. I wince as I touch my cheek with my fingertip, "I need an ice pack for this. Christ. I need a fucking iceberg for this."

As I stand up to go to the kitchen, she lies down across the couch in laughter. She's actually laughing so hard she can't sit straight; it's good to know that she's not that agitated that I'd kissed her.

I hear footsteps coming from the living room, as I close the mini freezer and place the ice pack on the left side of my face. "Niall? I'm so sorry, I had-"

"No, I'm sorry," I sigh as I lean against the counter behind me, and close my eyes for a few seconds. One slap, and suddenly I'm completely sober. "I'm so, so, so, very, incredibly sorry. Boy, am I sorry."

She chuckles again, and takes another couple of steps closer to me. "Can I take a peek?" And all of a sudden, she has no problem getting close to my face. She probably knows I'm not that stupid to try and kiss her again. Not after that.

"God," She mutters, placing the pack back on my cheek. "This is probably a sign that I should stop boxing."

I frown, and repeat her words in my head again, until I'm sure I didn't misunderstand her. "You box?"

"No," She quickly says, widening her eyes. Nervous? "Well, not exactly. I... I do kickboxing."

Now it's my turn to laugh; this night just keeps getting better. "And that's how you were able to get that creep off you, right?"

"What? What're you talking about?"

"The night we met," I begin slowly, as a look of realization appears on her face. We both remember the little scene from the alleyway, that's for sure. "You knew what you were doing."

Angel nods slowly, which gradually turns into her shaking her head. "That was actually Taekwondo. And just trying to kill him in the end."

"This is wonderful," I comment and try putting my hand on my face, but she's faster than me as she grabs my wrist, and makes me look at her.

"Have I really never told you that I do martial arts?" Her face goes from concerned to amused in the speed of light.

"No!" I say, as if stating the obvious. "If you'd told me, I wouldn't have tried to kiss you!"

"Well, I'm sor-"

"No," I repeat, this time to make her stop talking. "I'm sorry, that was stupid of me. And don't worry, whatever happens, I will never try to kiss you again."

Angel frowns at that, letting her arm drop next to her body. "Really? Never?"

"Babe, when you slapped me, I could taste peaches in my mouth," I tell her. "So I can promise you, I'm never gonna try and kiss you again." I shake my head – I'm probably going to break this promise within a week or so, but right now, the least I want to do is get that close to her face. I'm actually surprised that I'm okay with standing this close to her.

"Well," She begins, in a displeased tone; what the hell did I say wrong now? "That's not interesting. It's like I don't have any more reasons to hang out with you."

I blink a few times as she starts walking away, and place the ice pack on the counter so I'd follow her. "So, just so we're clear... you want me to keep trying to kiss you?"

"Well it's not fun when you say it like that," She shrugs, taking the joint from the ashtray again and taking a couple last drags. "But yeah. You know why? Because it's fun."

"You find other people's misery fun?" I smirk and walk over to her, standing on one side of the sofa while she stands on the other. "It's cute how you think I'm the only one that's wrapped around someone's finger here."

She raises her eyebrows at me, holding the joint between her index and middle finger. "You saying you got me wrapped around your finger?"

"It's not fun when you say it like that."

Angel smirks too, "And how do I prove you wrong, which you very much are?"

"Don't pick up next time I call you."

She nods, putting out the joint. "You got yourself a deal," She says while putting on her leather jacket and- why am I disappointed? It's not like I was expecting her to spend the night here. I wasn't. I was not.

"Sure I do," I agree with her and walk her over to the door, "So... I'll see you in a couple of days."

"No, you won't."

"Yes I will."

"You really, really won't."

"That's what you think," I say loudly as I watch her, her tangled hair fluttering behind her as she walks down the stairs.

"I'm always right, though," Is all she says, before completely walking out of my sigh, and I eventually hear the glass door of the building close, meaning she's left.

And I have half a mind to call her right now, just to prove her wrong.

*******

(I have a feeling that this idea sounded better in my head, no??)

Dedicated to @indiebandniall because I like reading nice things oops

But seriously, tell me if there's anything that you don't like or anything that you'd like me to change.. and I'll work on it. And there's gonna be another update this week bc I'm in the mood for writing and I suck at updating as it is so yay (and vote and comment!)