"Are you gonna pick that up?"

I blink, and look away from my phone to look at Seth – has this annoyed look on his face as he eats his second donut, but I can't blame him. Anyone would, if they had to listen to someone's phone blaring for thirty seconds.

"Yeah," I respond, taking another few seconds to look at my phone. I just don't know what to expect when I click on the green button – there's a mild possibility that she had her phone stolen, because I know that she'd never make the first move and call me.

Despite my slightly irrational thoughts, I press the green button – as I hear Seth sigh, frustrated once again – and bring the phone to my ear. "Hello?"

"Niall? Hi." If I didn't know her voice like the back of my hand, I wouldn't be able to tell it's her. She's quiet, and sounds like her voice is going to crack any moment now.

"Hi," I greet her back, and wait for her to break the silence – that's slowly becoming a little awkward.

See, after she left my apartment about a week ago, I think I came to a realization; sure, I like her and all, but it doesn't look like we feel the same about each other. I, on one hand, want to be able to kiss her and hold her hand in public – and yes, I realize how that sounds – but I think she wants to mess with me in a different way. A way that I'm not really interested in. So the reason I didn't see her for over a week isn't because she listened to me and didn't pick up, it's because I didn't call her at all.

"Are you..." A long few seconds later, I finally hear her voice on the other line. "Are you busy right now?"

"I'm in school," I reply slowly, "Having lunch. So not really."

She sighs, and keeps quiet for another minute. I don't have a good feeling about this. "Could you come over today?"

I raise my eyebrows as she blurts the words out, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, it's Friday and I don't have work until nine, so..." She pauses again, "If you could... come over at around five, or six, or whenever you're free. I'd really like that."

She's either just woken up, or been crying or she's high as a fucking kite. But since it's half past one in the afternoon, I don't think it's the first or last one. "O-okay. How does six sound?"

"Great," I can hear her smile over the phone. "I'll see you then."

"Alright." Before she can say anything else, I press the red button and stare at the ground for a couple of seconds. Why didn't I tell her no? Why don't I feel bad because of it? And most importantly, why did she sound the way she sounded?

"Booty call?"

I look over at Seth, who doesn't look the least bit entertained, and snort; a booty call from Angel Healy. "I wish."

*******

A small smile appears on my face when Angel opens the door, her expression mirroring mine once she meets my eyes. "Hi."

"Hi," I reply, just as quietly, taking a few slow steps forward, waiting for her to take the hint and move so I can walk in. She, on the other side, takes it the wrong way – but not the bad kind of wrong – and comes in front of me to wrap her arms around my waist, slowly pulling me in a tight hug.

I smile wider, wrapping mine around her upper back – savoring the moment – and waiting for her to pull away first. "How are you?" I ask when I feel her place her hands in my sides, and then pull away completely, nodding as she walks into her apartment, me following her.

"I'm good," She sighs while locking the door, and all of a sudden I'm having a mild case of déjà vu. "How are you?"

"I'm good too." I rock myself back and forth as she turns to me, fidgeting her hands. We're definitely acting like a pair of kindergartners, but I can't bring myself to say anything to break the silence. It must be the good kind of silence.

"Do you... want anything to drink?" Angel asks a minute later, her voice quiet as she starts walking backwards, and eventually turns around to walk inside the kitchen. And I just realized, I've never seen this part of her apartment.

"No, thanks. I just had soda with Seth." I walk after her, looking around the place. I notice Angel nod from the corner of my eye, and then proceeds to sit on the island counter.

"Anything to eat, perhaps?" She asks with a small grin and, I know it's still too early to jump to any conclusions, but I'm just saying – I'd be thrilled if this is friendly Angel again.

I shake my head with a smile, as I sit on one of the chairs, and she just looks down. I know I have another two and a half hours to spend with her, give or take, but I already feel like we're wasting time on... nothing.

"Why'd you call me?" I ask after a minute, looking down at my hands, but genuinely interested in her answer. I still don't really know her – but I'm assuming that she doesn't usually call guys to come over.

Angel shrugs, refusing to face me. "I wanted to see you."

"Why?" I ask in a blunt tone, so she wouldn't think I mean it in a bad way – because I really don't. I actually want to know why she want to see me; I really want to know why.

She shrugs again, "Remember that night when I told you not to walk away?" She keeps quiet for a second, "I thought you did. So I became a little anxious."

I blink, refusing to smile at that because it's just too serious of a moment. "Isn't that what you've been hoping for, though?" I ask, to ease the tension, but I feel like I'm making it worse now. "Like, whenever we're together... you act like you'd rather be alone."

"Of course I do," She chuckles, with no humor in her voice. "You're a smart guy, you should have it figured out by now."

"Figured out what?"

"That... that I don't let people in easily," She tells me, almost sounding like she's having trouble breathing. In other news though, yeah, I definitely had that figured out.

"And once I do, the worst possible thing that could happen to me, is losing them," She continues, biting her lip and I just wish she'd look me in the eyes. "So when you didn't call me for a week straight, I became anxious. Because that's not like you. It's not like you to not make any contact with me for more than just a couple of days, but that's what you did now and I just started-"

"Angel," I interrupt her rambling, and she finally looks up at me. For a few moments we just sit like that, looking at each other from opposite sides of the room, and I don't know about her but I'm dying to grin at everything that she just said.

"It's okay," I finally tell her, "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." I don't have the heart to tell her that I almost did what she was afraid I'd do; so I just give her a tight, but reassuring smile, to which she replies with a nod, and goes back to looking at the ground. And here I was, thinking the atmosphere couldn't get any more awkward.

After a minute of looking around the place, I thought I'd have to stand up and ask her about some irrelevant piece of furniture; but when I actually stand up to ask her about something, I'm genuinely interested in it.

"Who's this?" I ask, holding a framed picture of two girls, one of them being Angel – only I could barely recognize her. Her hair is straightened in it, she's wearing almost no make-up at all, and her smile actually reaches her eyes. In other words, nothing that I've really seen since I've met her.

"Um... that's..." She hops off the counter, and it takes me a few seconds to readjust to the girl standing next to me, because she looks nothing like the one in the picture. "Well, it's me, obviously. And my best friend, Allison."

"Your best friend?" I look down at her again, and she's got her lips trapped between her teeth while she looks at the photo. "I thought Natasha's your best friend."

Angel shrugs, a little uneasily – and I can tell that this is probably a touchy subject. "Yeah," She shrugs again, "She is."

I nod – even though that doesn't make any sense at all – and look at the picture again. She looks younger in it, but when I take a better look, I realize it's not because of her make-up or her hair. "How old are you here?"

"Seventeen," Angel tells me, immediately looking down at her feet when I look at her. "And Allison's sixteen. That's actually from my 17th birthday."

Nodding again, I keep inspecting the photo. They're very much alike; only Allison has straight hair and brown eyes. But the same bright smile. "Do you still hang out with her?"

"She's dead," Angel says, and I can actually feel chills going down my spine as she starts walking away. "She killed herself less than three months after that picture was taken."

"I'm... I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about."

I gulp, and leave the frame in its previous spot – no wonder she'd put it behind a vase. Even I find it hard to look at it now. "Well, um..." I walk out of the kitchen to follow her, into her living room. "When-when's your birthday?"

There probably isn't a stupider question that I could have asked, but I'd rather talk about completely irrelevant shit – not that her birth date is irrelevant – than sit in silence and wait for someone to cut the tension.

When I walk into the living room, she's sitting on the couch and rolling a joint – of course she is. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," She says with a small chuckle, as I walk over to her and sit on the armchair opposite of her.

"How about you tell me, and then I tell you if I believe you?" I smile, watching her adjusting the filter. She sighs when she brings it to her lips, shaking the red lighter before lighting up the joint.

"April 20th," She says after a minute of silence, watching the smoke flow through the air as she exhales. "April 20th, 1991." And it takes me a second to realize why she thought I wouldn't believe her.

"That's... quite convenient," I smile again, and look down at my feet, even though I can tell she's watching me.

"You're not finding that as funny as I thought you would," She says, and that's when I look up at her, extending my hand. She raises her eyebrows at me, a surprised slash impressed look on her face as I take the joint from her. Let's hope this won't be like the first time I tried smoking weed.

"Yeah, you wanna know why?" I ask, slightly amused by her widened eyes as I take a hesitant drag; and I mentally congratulate myself when I don't cough at all. "My dad died on April 20th."

The amused look on Angel's face is long gone as those words leave my mouth. "I'm sorry," She says bluntly – she wasn't expecting me to drop a bomb like that, that's all. "How old were you?"

"Fifteen," I tell her, getting a little brave and taking another drag. I hope she has another one for herself. "Three and a half years ago."

Angel nods, and is already getting herself another piece of paper and a filter. "What happened to him? If you don't mind me asking."

I shrug, "Brain tumor."

She looks up at me, a weird glint in her eyes. "What part of the brain was it?"

And then I remember – her wanting to be a neurosurgeon. "The little brain, I think."

"Cerebellum?" She asks and nods, when I give her a nod. "Was it fibrillary astrocytoma?"

And yeah, here we go. "I have no idea what you just said."

"It's a type of cerebellar tumors," She tells me, as if expecting me to know what the hell she's talking about. "It occurs in people between the ages of twenty and fifty, and I'm guessing your dad was in that category."

I nod slowly, the name of the tumor she'd suggested already long forgotten. "He was."

"Was it benign or malignant?"

"I don't know," I say through a chuckle; seriously, does she seriously expect me to know the answer to all of that? "I didn't want to know. It was a grade 3 tumor and it was in his little brain. That's all I know."

Angel nods, bringing her second joint to her lips, as I bring her first one to mine. "So it was malignant."

I chuckle again before placing the thin object between my lips. "If you say so," I mumble and take another drag; and all of a sudden, I can't find a reason I haven't done this more than once before. Probably because I almost choked to death the first time Seth offered me one of these.

"I'm sorry, I really am," Angel says after a minute of silence; surprisingly comfortable silence. Must be because we're both semi-high. "I'm just not good at handling these situations."

I shrug again, and lean my joint on the ashtray as I stand up. "We can talk about something else," I tell her, as one tall object right next to her couch captures all of my attention. "Or not talk at all. Are you fucking serious?"

I notice her turn her head in my direction, as I rummage through the slim, wooden shelf. "I'm guessing it's been a while since you've seen one of those?"

A grin spreads across my face, as I flip the small cassette in my hand. "Ages. Literally years," I mutter, not even caring if she'd heard me. The high I'm feeling from the weed is nothing compared to the one I'm feeling from discovering this.

"There's a deck on the desk to your left, you can play something if you want to," She tells me and- this is probably how a person feels when they win the lottery.

"Sick," My grin widens, and this time I'm careful while picking out a cassette that I want to play. Eventually I find the perfect one; and I already know what song to listen to first.

Putting the little object in the cassette deck, I skip a few songs before finding the one. I didn't know it's possible, but my smile gets even bigger as I hear the first melodies from the song. I also haven't heard this song in ages; how did I go so long without it?

I turn to look at Angel, just in time to see her rolling her eyes – and smiling – as she recognizes the song too. "You gotta be kidding me."

I slowly walk over to her, and I can tell that she already knows what I'm about to ask, as she starts laughing in advance. "Would you like to dance?"

My question only makes her laugh harder. "Sure, it's not like either of us is thinking straight right now," She says with a smile as she stands up, still chuckling while putting her hands on my shoulder, and I put mine on her waist. This is not difficult at all.

"This is nice," I say after a few moments, my loud voice ruining the moment and making both of us laugh again. "I mean... it wouldn't be this nice if we weren't a little high."

"Yeah. I agree," Angel chuckles, moving her hands from my shoulders to around my neck. Fuck yes. "We should dance more often." And smoke weed more often, I add in my head.

"You can come with me to a frat party," I suggest, before I can even think about the words that are leaving my mouth. "I mean, I can't promise that we'll be slow dancing, but probably something close to that."

"Mhm, that sounds delightful," Angel says, her eyes wide in fake excitement. Well then. I tried. "Do you usually play music like this at frat parties?"

I glance over my shoulder at the cassette deck, "Not really... no. But if we came before the actual party actually started, I could play you something like this."

"That... actually sounds delightful," She chuckles, and now it seems like she's genuinely excited on some level. "When do you usually have these parties?"

"Well, the best ones are on Fridays and Saturdays," I tell her and I can't help but think; I'm slow dancing with a girl that's completely out of this world, and I can't seem to stop talking about fraternity parties. This is gonna be a great story for the grandchildren. "And people usually start coming at like, ten, or eleven. Until then it's just the frat guys. And maybe their girlfriends."

"Delightful," Angel shortly says, making herself laugh as I roll my eyes. "If you don't have a problem with going to a frat party at like seven p.m. I could actually make it to one that's on a Friday."

I start nodding, but stop once I repeat what she's just said. "Wait, seriously?"

"Sure, I'm making myself worthy of your time," She shrugs. "You invited me to a fraternity party and I'm accepting the offer."

"Yeah," I say bluntly, nodding my head, making her giggle again. I wonder how much weed she's actually smoked today – she's so giggly and smiley. I love it. "That doesn't sound like you at all."

"Well, only if you promise you'll play me something like this."

"Oh, definitely," I nod, in a serious manner now. "I love old music. And old stuff in general."

Angel frowns at me, watching me carefully. Is there a ticking time bomb on my head? "Is that why you're so obsessed with me? Because you love old stuff, and I'm older than you?"

She's laughing by the end of her – dumb as fuck – question; probably because of the look I'm giving her. "Very funny, Angel."

"Thank you, Niall." She grins as I shake my head, pulling her a little closer to me as she looks over at where the music is coming from.

"This really is nice," She tells me, through a small sigh. "I haven't danced to Bon Jovi since my bat mitzvah."

I stop moving for a second, and frown a little; "You're Jewish?"

"Yeah," Angel tells me and stops for a second, too. "Is that a problem?"

"No, not at all," I shake my head quickly; this is exactly why I should never be allowed to talk about religion. "I'm just... I never thought about it."

She nods, most likely understanding what I'm trying to say. "It's okay, I get it. And it's not like we're dating or anything."

I narrow my eyes, but decide to play along. For the sake of not ruining the moment again – not that she already hasn't. "Right. I mean, you won't even let me kiss you, so..."

I shrug, but the smile on her face is making me a little antsy; she's been smiling all the while, there's just something different about this smile. The smile she forms after I say those words.

Next thing I know, we're standing still, and her hands are on my neck and she's pressing her lips against mine firmly; and I think I figured out why her smile seemed different.

Just as the fact that she's kissing me – just so we're clear, she is kissing me – sinks into my brain, she pulls away but keeps her face close to mine, our noses touching and her hands still on my neck.

"Please don't slap me like I slapped you," She almost whispers, and breathes out a laugh as I start laughing too.

"Don't worry," I grin as the realization hits me like a frying pan; she just kissed me. She kissed me and it was her own will, I wasn't trying to kiss her, no one was making her do it, no one was pointing a gun at her head. She kissed me because she wanted to. "I'm-I'm definitely not gonna do that."

She exhales, as if relieved – why would she be relieved, why would she be nervous about something in the first place? – and the little innocent look on her face makes me wrap my arms around her waist and pull her body closer to mine.

"If I'd known that Bed Of Roses would do the trick," I mumble, my lips brushing hers as I speak, "I would've illegally downloaded it on my phone and played it every time you refused to kiss me."

"Yeah, but it's this part that really gets to me," She tells me quietly, nodding her head in rhythm with the song, and I grin as I note what part it is.

"I wanna lay..." I pause to peck her lips, having her grin when I pull away. "You down... in a bed... of roses..."

As the line ends, she places her hand on the back of my neck and pulls me down to meet her lips with my own; I feel like this would be another great story for the grandchildren, but I probably wouldn't want to scar them.

There's definitely a part of me that doesn't believe this is happening; I mean, last time I kissed her I needed an ice pack afterwards. And now she's actually kissing me. She put her hand on my neck because she wanted to, she tiptoed so she'd be closer to me because she wanted to, and she captured my upper lip between the two of hers because she wanted to. It's really, really happening and- and the only bad part of this is that I feel like a teenage girl about it all over again.

When she pulls away, she keeps her face close to mine again, this time leaning her forehead against mine. "How the fuck did I earn that? Please, give me an actual answer," I say through a laugh, after a minute or so, when the song is nearly finished.

"You... didn't walk away," She tells me simply, a knowing smile on her face – and mine soon too. "That's a good enough reason."

I grin and lick my lips, "You know what?"

Angel hums in response, a wide smile appearing on her face as I kiss the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, and all the way to her ear.

"If you promise me that at the frat party, I'll get fucking Bon Jovi to sing live at it."

*******

I kinda switched the roles in this chapter so guuuuuyys, tell me how you like Angel that's (a bit) vulnerable? And the story so far? c:

Dedicated to @vxluminous because your comment made me feel like you've read my mind and the idea i had for this chapter all the way from wherever you live :D

And vote and comment! (150 comments for an early update? If not then that's ok too) xx