Chapter 15 I can't believe I told her about my parents. The thought is still playing on loop in my mind early the following morning as I stand in the bathroom, swiping a thick layer of shaving cream across my face. I have a pop hits playlist playing softly through the Archibald speaker system as I ready myself for the day. I was hoping if I filled the silence with something I'd be distracted from thinking about the girl across the hallway. I hoped wrong though, because as I grab my razor and get to work, my thoughts stay firmly fixed on my and Ally's conversation last night and how talking to her was nice. Easy, even. I admitted something that I never, ever talk about, I didn't want to stop talking, and found myself being disappointed when Fisher interrupted us. I didn't know the man owned a Speedo, and I didn't want to know. I should be probably grateful he broke the tension and didn't allow me to open up to Ally even more than I already had. I have a strong, gut feeling that growing attached to her is something that would be all too easy to do, which is strange because I've never had an easy time opening up to people. The thought makes me uncomfortable...alongside another emotion I can't quite label. Fear? I push the feelings down, not ready to come face to face with them. Meow. The sound from behind me startles me. I'm the only one in the loft awake, so I didn't shut the bathroom door all the way. In the mirror, I watch as the door inches open, and Harry pads into the bathroom, then jumps onto the toilet lid and begins licking his paws. Gross. I shake my head, but the door moves again, and my eyes snap up to the mirror to find Ally stepping into the bathroom, bleary-eyed and messy-haired. She squints in my direction with a sleepy expression before her eyes widen and her hands fly up to cover her face. "Noah, I'm so sorry!" Ally turns to leave. "You're fine, Ally." I smirk. "I'm not naked this time." She stops in her tracks, her hands falling back to her sides. "I cannot believe you just reminded me of that. I thought you were a gentleman," she retorts teasingly, but her face turns beet red. Her embarrassment makes me want to smile, but I just shrug one shoulder. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself." We're silent for a moment before Ally shuffles on her feet, eyeing the cabinet where she keeps all of her things. "Do you mind if I just grab⁠-" "I'm just shaving; you can get ready in here if you want. There's plenty of room." Our bathroom has a large cabinet with double sinks and a mirror above each one. She makes eye contact with me in the mirror. "Okay, if you don't mind. I need to get ready for work." I scoot over a few inches in silent invitation. Ally comes to stand beside me and pulls a wicker basket filled with girly products out of the cabinet. An old song from a boy band begins to play through the speakers. It sounds familiar, but I don't know who sings it. Ally gasps. "This is my favorite One Direction song, I haven't heard it in forever!" I huff a laugh. I swear Ally knows every song. "Right. Harry Styles fan." Harry Styles the cat does a weird little purr-meow from his perch on the toilet like he thinks we're talking about him and not the human Harry Styles. Ally laughs and removes the scrunchy from her tangled hair. She grabs a brush from her basket and starts detangling her mop of golden waves. I have to hold back a smile; this messy morning version of Ally is kind of cute. As she pulls her hair back again and washes her face, I finish shaving and clean up the mess I made of the sink. "You're very tidy," she notes. I arch an eyebrow. "Better this than whatever's going on with Penn and Fisher's bathroom." Her face is foamy with face wash, but she grimaces like she knows I'm right. "Fisher has even more beauty products than me, I'm sure," she says with a laugh before splashing water on her face to rinse the face wash. She then reaches around blindly looking for her towel. I grab it off the hook and dangle it in front of her hand until she grabs it. "Thank you," she says with a smile, looking up at me with a clean face except for the tiny patch of bubbles still resting on her chin. My hand aches to reach over and swipe it off for her, but I hold back and tap my own chin instead. "You missed a spot." She glances in the mirror and laughs, dabbing her chin once more with the towel. "Oops." I shake my head, grabbing my toothbrush and toothpaste before squeezing a dollop onto the brush. Ally is watching me the same way I'm watching her. I didn't realize until now how much you could learn about someone by watching them get ready for the day. As I brush my teeth, Ally applies three different creams and serums onto her skin then dabs on some makeup-concealer, I think? She then pinches her eyelashes with a funny looking contraption and applies mascara with her mouth wide open in an O shape as she leans close to the mirror. I spit out my toothpaste with a laugh, then rinse my mouth with water. "What's so funny?" She turns to look at me with one hand on her hip and only one eye finished. "You're going to catch flies." She points her mascara brush at me indignantly. "I'd like to see you apply mascara with your mouth closed." "No thanks," I say. Ally studies my face for a moment then turns away with an eye roll. "You wouldn't even need it. You boys get the best lashes." I shake my head. Andie used to tell me the same thing. I can't count the times she told me, those thick dark lashes are wasted on you; it's not fair! Ally finishes her other eye, and I notice that on top of opening her mouth wide, she's also standing on her tippy toes. She does that a lot. I wonder if she even realizes it. "Why are you smiling?" she asks, eyeing me in the mirror. I blink. I hadn't realized I was smiling. "No reason." She gives me a knowing look, silently calling me a liar. I'm done in the bathroom, but just like last night, I find myself wanting to stay near her and keep talking. The thought of letting her in and allowing myself to know her has a prickle of fear waving through my stomach again. I clear my throat. "I'll leave you to it," I say, willing my feet to move. "Okay, thanks for sharing the bathroom!" She throws a smile over her shoulder at me. "I'm going to the store later, I'll pick up some of those probiotic sodas you were drinking at dinner last night...you know, as a thank you for not making me late for work." Another One Direction song comes on, and she starts shimmying her hips to the music while applying a shiny pink lip balm to her lips. I grit my teeth, trying my best to refuse to acknowledge how cute she is, and that I like that she noticed my soda preference. I force my feet to move away from her, but as I go, I realize I'm still smiling against my will. Dammit. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!