Complacent [Duplicity Niall]

Chapter 29 of Complicity

--

I wake up to the lovely sight of Niall hugging a pillow to his chest, drooling all over it. Better it than me.

I stretch, letting my joints pop, and shove the covers off of me. My tank top is askew, one strap slipping off my shoulder, and my underwear—well, I’m barely wearing any to begin with. But it’s fine. It’s not like the boys haven’t seen me walk around like this before.

I slide out of bed, rubbing at my eyes, and make my way into the kitchen.

The air smells like stale weed and cologne from last night. Someone left an empty pizza box on the counter, but at least they had the decency to fold it up.

I open the fridge, rummaging for something that could pass as breakfast. There’s a half-empty carton of eggs, some questionable-looking bacon, and—

Jackpot.

I grab the last cinnamon roll from a takeout box and lean against the counter, peeling the sticky layers apart as I eat.

The door to Harry’s room stays shut, unsurprisingly. He’s probably still holed up inside, refusing to function before noon.

Louis isn’t back yet either, which means he definitely spent the night in some random’s car again.

I smirk to myself, licking icing from my fingers.

The apartment is still mostly quiet when another door creaks open.

Niall steps out of his room, shirtless, sweatpants slung low on his hips, rubbing a hand through his messy hair.

His eyes find me immediately.

His gaze drops lower.

Then lower.

And then he smirks.

“Good morning to me.”

I roll my eyes, taking another bite of my cinnamon roll. “You’re so predictable.”

He leans against the counter next to me, watching as I chew. “You gonna make me breakfast?”

“No.”

“Mean.”

I shrug, not bothering to justify myself.

He keeps looking at me, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Nice outfit,” he says eventually.

I glance down at myself, then back at him, deadpan. “It’s called fashion.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “It’s called you like the attention.”

I take another bite, pretending to think about it. “Maybe.”

Niall hums, reaching over to steal a piece of my cinnamon roll. I slap his hand away before he can grab it.

“Get your own,” I say through a mouthful of food.

“That was the last one.”

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

He stares at me, then sighs dramatically, turning to dig through the fridge instead.

I keep eating, enjoying my victory.

A few minutes later, Liam emerges from his room, yawning as he scratches at his bare chest. He doesn’t react to my lack of clothing. He barely even glances in my direction before heading straight for the coffee machine.

“Morning,” he mumbles.

“Morning,” I echo.

Liam sips his coffee like a man who’s seen too much. He leans against the counter, eyes flicking between me and Niall, watching the way Niall hovers close, watching the way I don’t push him away.