Complacent [Duplicity Niall]

Foreword: Jsyk. I don't really know how to work Mads into Harry and Avens bs for the next little bit. So, that's just gonna be happening in the background. So just imagine these next chapters somewhere between the party and Aven going batshit with Nova.

Xoxo,
Gossip Girl

Mei hands me the basket, her usual soft but unreadable expression in place. It’s still warm from the dryer, the smell of detergent still lingering.

I liked it. The smell of detergent. I don't think I've ever smelled something so sweet and real. It follows me into my dreams.

I take the clothes to the bedroom, setting the basket down on the bed before I start sorting through it. Mei, being the saint she is, already folded everything, so all I really have to do is put it away. I grab Niall’s shirts first, stacking them in his usual drawer, then move on to mine.

I don’t even hear him come in, but suddenly, there he is.

Niall, standing in the doorway like he owns the place—shirt rumpled, hair messy like he just woke up, hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"Whatcha doin’?" he asks, his voice low, a little rough.

"Laundry." I don’t even look up as I shove more of his clothes into his drawer.

"How domestic of ya," he teases, stepping further into the room. "What’s next, you gonna cook me dinner?"

"Maybe if you weren’t such a pain in my ass."

He grins, moving behind me, his arms looping loosely around my waist. His chin rests on my shoulder, warm breath fanning across my skin.

"C’mon, you love when I’m a pain in your ass," he murmurs, pressing his lips against my neck, trailing them lazily along my skin.

I roll my eyes, but I don’t stop him.

Because of course I don’t.

The laundry is forgotten the second his hands slip beneath the waistband of my shorts, tugging at them lazily. I don’t resist when he pulls them down, stepping out of them as they pool at my ankles. His fingers graze the top of my underwear, teasing, before—

"Wait," he mutters suddenly, brows furrowing. "Is it Saturday?"

I blink, thrown off by the question. "Uh… yeah?"

He tilts his head, like something just clicked in his brain. "Shouldn’t you have gotten your period, like… last week or somethin’?"

It takes me a second to process what he’s saying. My period.

Oh.

I hadn’t even thought about it.

I shrug, completely unbothered. "I guess? It’s probably late."

Niall gives me a look. "You guess?"

"Yeah, I don’t keep track of it like you do."

"Well, someone has to," he mutters, shaking his head. "Fuckin’ hell, Mads."

"What?" I laugh. "It’s not a big deal. It’s probably just stress or whatever."

He squints at me for a second, then shrugs. "Whatever. At least I can stick it in."

I snort, shoving at his chest. "Jesus, Niall."

"What?" He grins. "I just hope it doesn’t start bleedin’ now, that’d be inconvenient."

I roll my eyes, but he’s already pulling me back in, already kissing me like the conversation never happened, already making me forget what we were even talking about in the first place.