DON'T YOU WANT ME?
𓂅₊⊹ pairings: nineties!noel gallagher x fem!reader
𓂅₊⊹ summary: noel gallagher is in your opinion, the most beautiful man you've ever seen. he's your boss, the chief, and the most famous english rock musician of the nineties. your massive crush on him leads to secret diary entries for your eyes only... until one night after a party, he finds them.
𓂅₊⊹ cw: long oneshot, very very fluffy it actually hurts, mild smut/allusions to smut, mentions of smoking, mentions of drinking, office relationship, short vomit scene, suggestive implications, innuendos throughout, language, shy reader towards the beginning, slow burn
𓂅₊⊹ word count: 14,1k
°˖➴
six thirty.
the dreaded hour.
you lazily slam your hand onto your buzzing alarm clock, letting the piercing sound finally cease.
you groan once, running a hand down your face as you squint from the sunlight peeking through the silky curtains in your bedroom.
you trudge towards the bathroom, your feet dragging on the cold tile as you position yourself at the sink.
you look up at your reflection in the foggy mirror, your hair a crazy mess from sleep, deep eye bags, and chapped lips.
you sigh, let out a loud yawn, and then start the makeover process.
one. shower & shave.
two. brush your teeth & skincare.
three. journal.
it's stupid, really. your neverending, gigantic crush on your boss which never seems to end in the words, "it was just a phase."
every morning you'd enter something in your small, pink diary; the one with far too many dried up coffee and lipstick stains on each page.
you'd write about your day at the office, your day as his employee, and if you were lucky, what he said if he noticed you.
noel gallagher is the one and only mr. right for you. he's perfect, polished, talented, and...well maybe polished is the part you had done up in your head. he's loud. annoyed very easily; and always complaining. whenever he sees you, he never remembers your name, so he'll call you "birdie".
this morning's entry is all about your interaction with him yesterday.
and it all went like this.
you sip your coffee at your desk, spinning around in your cushioned office chair. a pile of papers for oasis's upcoming tour sits in front of your face, and you dread opening it. noel had probably marked new additions to the tour that you had already completed, and now you'd have to re-do it all over again. your job: review contracts, submit tour requests by each band member and report approval of each request that was confirmed.
"y/n." matt, your (favorite) coworker slams his hands on your desk, jolting you to life. you're mid sip, so startled that hot coffee splatters all over your new white blouse.
"shit!" you gasp, gently sucking your thumb that burns with the spill of hot coffee.
"whoops." matt sucks his teeth shortly before handing you a tissue.
"thanks." you mutter while snatching the tissue, blotching as much of the brown coffee stains as you could off your pretty blouse.
"didn't mean to scare ya, but james needs you in room six."
"what for?" you toss the tissue into the garbage can, placing the coffee cup down on your desk.
"noel. he wants to review the contracts you were given to review yesterday." matt says while adjusting his ugly blue tie. you won't tell him you hate it because he's your best friend, but it's the most hideous tie you've ever laid eyes on. the tiny vibrant dolphins on the fabric could get him fired if you were in charge of the office.
your eyes widen, trying to focus on his statement rather than the Ugly Dolphin Tie.
"uhhhmmmm..." you start, trying to remember if you even packed those contracts. you didn't know they were due today.
matt squints his eyes, eager for your answer.
"here we go." you bite your lip, pulling out about one hundred thin files you reviewed last night.
you were up till midnight with the papers in front of you, watching "pretty woman" and painting your toenails a sexy red color that noel will never see, considering you wear black ballet flats to the office every day.
"good. room six, remember? mr. gallagher isn't a very patient man," matt sings as he hurries back towards his desk.
you shoot him an "i'm aware," before stacking the papers into your arms and moving down the hall towards room six.
you stand in front of the large glass door, looking inside to see an angry noel sat at the long conference table. he's shaking his head, clearly disappointed by something. maybe it has to do with the misconception with the roadie. he quit for 'blur' last minute.
you take a deep breath while trying to keep your heart on a leash in your chest. it's about to jump out at just the sight of his cloudy blue eyes.
noel lifts his head, his eyes scanning past the glass doors and landing on you. your heart goes feral as warmth rises to your face, your cheeks flaming red.
his eyes trail down to your shirt, and for a second your brain thinks he's finally catching how amazing your sense of style is...or maybe he's shamelessly eyeing your tits. you look down like the weirdo you are, but for once, you're glad you did.
the fuckass coffee stain.
which now makes one section of your blouse see-through, your maroon colored bra you just bought peeking through your shirt.
noel tried his best to hide a laugh.
seriously, matt?
one of your bosses follows noel's gaze, pointing at you through the glass. you are officially embarrassed. "there she is!" you hear someone say muffled, reaching for the door.
the glass door flew open, and your face is as red as the bold lipstick shade that's lying in your purse underneath your desk.
"hi." you greet the room with a loud sigh, without making eye contact, setting the stack of papers down on the large table.
noel's eyes don't leave yours for a second. he's waiting for a proper "hello" from you.
your eyes slowly advance from the expensive glass table with cursed coffee mugs on it to noel sitting at the head of the table.
a smirk teases his lips and his fingers scratch lightly against his stubble. he's watching your every movement, the way he's leaning back in his office chair like he owns the place. well, y'know maybe he does. he's the rockstar. he's the whole reason for your company.
you clear your throat, trying to distract yourself from the incredibly gorgeous-without-any-effort type of man that sits across from you.
"mr. gallagher." you say a little firmer this time.
his eyes widen at the way you choose to address him. "morning." he greets you back with a tiny smile, clearly amused by your entrance.
"matt said something about contracts?" you avert your eyes while placing a strand of hair behind your ear.
your eyes try to focus on anything other than noel. you try the coffee pot. it makes you even more angry. maybe the man next to you? okay, he has a weird staring problem. back to noel it is.
"mhm." he takes a slow sip of his coffee, his eyes not leaving yours.
you can't help it. your eyes fall to his lips shamelessly. you curse yourself for it.
he clears his throat which drew your attention back to his face.
"good coffee, hm?" he said while leaning back in his chair, then nodded towards your stained blouse.
your cheeks flamed even hotter. you needed to get out of there.
"clumsy me." you muttered with a tiny shrug.
"your name is?" noel asked quickly while reaching for a contract at your end of the table.
the tiny patch of chest hair that peeks out of his shirt as he reaches over has you captivated for a split second before you remind yourself to stay focused.
you gulp as you told him your name.
he repeats it once, and then he reaches for a pen next to him. noel pops open the cap with his teeth, then signs his name at the end of the contract with black ink.
"send this out for me, will ya birdie?" he asks politely as he capped the pen.
your mouth goes dry as you nod slowly. yep. he forgot. like always. but you didn't care.
"mhm." you squeak out, taking his paper and tucking it under your arm.
you head towards the doors as quickly as possible.
"oh, and" he calls you back with a finger pointed in the air.
your head swivels around to look at noel, your fingers tightening on the glass doors with every second that passes.
"i've always liked the color maroon." he says while leaning back in his chair.
your expression drops as your face goes as white as the creamer the barista pumped into your coffee this morning.
you stare for a while, his words replaying in your head one million times over. did he really just say that? is it all in your head? it's confirmed once he tilts his head and widens his eyes, even more amused by your surprised expression.
you head for the door, making sure you hear it click before letting out a massive sigh. "holy fuck" you breathe out as you pull stray hairs back and straighten your browned blouse.
you turn around once more, not expecting to catch noel's eyes still on you. your heart leaps in your chest as his lips bend into a dangerous smirk.
your breath hitches, and you turn your head as quickly as possible, hoping he didn't notice how pink and stupid your face turned. you dash down the hallway, far away from room six.
°˖➴
and now here you are, every morning you sit with your diary, entering your thoughts and experiences with noel gallagher into your little pink notebook.
you sit in your bed, kicking your legs against your wooden headboard as the black ink glides across your loose leaf page. you wrote about an interaction each day you had one. and this one had to be the most embarrassing, yet your favorite. no matter how hot you felt your face get, he had spoken to you. maybe you were a little delusional, but at least you were able to speak back. and he had commented on your bra.
your cheeks got hot just remembering his face when he said it. the way he tilted his head. the way he smiled. the way his eyes flickered with something you couldn’t even identify; you were so lost in him.
you're going mad. and you pray to God he would just get your name right. you write about the coffee, about your stupid loss for words, about the bra, about his radiant smile.
you stand in front of your closet for at least ten minutes deciding on a blouse that's dark enough and coffeestain-proof. you are not going to unintentionally tease noel gallagher again. it's far too embarrassing.
dark blue blouse. long sleeve. perfect.
black skirt? no, it looks like you were attending a funeral or a really depressing goth wedding.
you settle on a white blouse after praying you'll be careful and stay away from coffee today. the black skirt goes well with the white blouse. you pair the outfit with some ruffle socks and your signature black ballet flats. right when you are about to leave, you notice small paint chips at the edges of your flats. you frown, grabbing a black marker and filling in the chipped spots until you can buy new ones this weekend.
you head out the door around seven thirty. you had made sure you looked nice, your lips covered in strawberry lip balm and your hair is slicked back with fine gel so you won't have your hands fiddling with loose strands during the day.
inside your brown purse lay your water bottle, a pair of sneakers to change out of just in case your feet get cut on the back of your flats, extra hair ties, pens, and your diary. you don't know why, but you carry it everywhere. on your lunch break you'll journal at the nearest park and will plan your weekends on the back of the notebook- because yes, the other half is an organized planner and you are running out of diary space.
“morning, matt” you pat his desk as he gives you a tiny wave and then mouths to you, “im on a meeting”
you suck your teeth before gesturing with your hands that your mouth is zipped. then, you scurry over to your desk and take out all your belongings, setting up your computer and checking your mailbox for any new information you had to review for oasis’s upcoming tour.
one letter from miriam lays in your mailbox. you squint and turn the letter over, ripping open its envelope. inside are details for a celebration for the release of “be here now”.
it reads,
hey! i couldn’t type this online or else i would risk the whole company seeing this. dropping this in your box because i just got word of a release party! please please please wear something sexy! i know how you can be, but please risk it all and trash those ballet flats. y’know, i saw them chipping at the edges yesterday.
you look down at the chipped spot that is now covered with a small frown.
anyway, i heard there’s gonna be drinks and karaoke. and the hot one never comes to these things, but i heard he is! gonna shoot my shot with liam if you know what i mean -miriam
P.S. its tomorrow night :)
you chuckle at the last section. miriam has a massive crush on liam. she isn't your best friend, but you know her from around the office. she is the queen of gossip and is always making an excuse to send you some sneaky notes in your mailbox that are totally classified as "along the lines of getting fired" just by the way she writes to you about liam. it’s a good thing she doesn't know you have eyes for noel, she’d go and tell the whole office.
but tomorrow night? how are you gonna show up to a fancy release party? you only have one nice dress in your closet which probably isn't even release-party-appropriate. (the only time you wore it was to a wedding).
"matt." your hands land on his desk, and he gazes up at you with suspicious eyes.
"you never come to my desk during work hours. what's the emergency?" he asks, his tone careful.
you squint. are you a bad friend? whatever. not right now.
"do you have any good...shopping places?" you scratch your forehead nervously.
"sit down, hon." he pats the office chair next to him, and you scoot closer to him on the gray carpet.
"i need a dress for the release party." you admit, your voice going quiet.
"damn, shit spreads fast. i only heard about it this morning." matt shakes his head.
"i know!- wait, did miriam send you a note too?" you exclaim.
people around the office turn their heads at your excitement, clearly annoyed by your loud voice. you smack a palm against your mouth, sinking deeper into the office chair.
"no..." matt says cautiously with a chuckle. "charlie told me."
you nod in understanding.
"miriam's allowed to send you notes?" his eyebrow perks up.
"uhhh...no." you avoid his gaze and start picking at a tiny hole in your tights that will eventually get bigger the more you touch it.
he laughs and then shakes his head. "so, you need a dress."
you nod once.
"from a....shopping place?" he smiles at your choice of words.
you sigh deeply. "i don't know, like the mall or sumthin'?"
he stares at you blankly. "hon." he starts suspiciously.
you scoot even closer, ready to listen to your fashion icon. if anyone can help you, it's matt. he used to study fashion but dropped out cause his company didn't pay as well as other companies outside of london. he loves to say he's still working with "the arts of fashion" even though he is managing the most famous and most chaotic band of your time.
"do you still buy your clothes at the mall?" he asks while reaching for your hand.
"no! it was just a suggestion." you shake your head quickly.
you totally still buy your clothes at the mall.
"okay, well we need to get you something nice from the fancy stores on the boardwalk."
your lips part. "that's expensive."
"yup." he nods enthusiastically. "but they have super nice stuff."
you listen carefully as he feeds you highly important fashion information.
"try tessa's."
you nod your head and repeat the name on your lips a few times.
"mhm." he nods slowly. "got it?"
"i got it." you give him a smile, and then you thank him for his help.
instead of returning to your desk, you pop by miriam's cubicle. hers is fancier than yours; she has a door. no fair.
you knock once on the glass door, and she jumps in her seat. she's eating her lunch, which is odd considering it's eight in the morning. you can hear her muffled behind the door, but she waves you inside and says "come in!" enthusiastically.
you step inside with a kind smile, closing the door behind you.
it didn't even properly click shut before she asks, "did ya get my note?" with wide eyes as she wipes her mouth with a white napkin and places it down next to her cesar salad.
"uh, yeah." you adjust your skirt and approach her desk.
"i need your advice," you begin quietly. then you clear your throat. if you're gonna ask her this, you have to be confident about it. "on like..." you scratched your neck. "what to wear?" you cringe at the words.
she squints. "m'kay," she closes her plastic salad box and clasps her hands together in her lap. "for the party?"
"yeah. but like, not a dress." you clarify, fiddling with your fingers behind your back.
she nods slowly.
"and like, i have a dress shop already, so yeah. that's why i...said that." you chuckle nervously, not even making proper sense anymore.
"uhm, so it's not shoes, cause you said they were chippin' and i gotta get new ones, but-"
"you want me to help you buy lingerie?" miriam blinks.
busted.
fuck. how'd she know?
"what? why would you- no." your cheeks grow pink.
you can never ask matt for that.
"you know i'm gonna tell you to go 'the chateau' for that." miriam licks her finger once and flips open a notebook page, ripping out one piece and writing down the address of the store.
you take it, and then examine the address. it's one block away from 'tessa's.'
"thanks," you say shyly, tucking the paper into the pocket of your cardigan.
you try to slip outside, but she stops you.
"why do you need lingerie for the release party?"
you freeze, your back to her. you close your eyes and mutter a curse under your breath.
"uhh," you turn around with a fake smile, fiddling with your hands.
"just cause?" you admit cautiously.
"okay," she hums, spinning around in her chair and flicking her short brown curls behind her shoulder. "you don't want to impress anyone?" she shimmies her shoulders playfully.
you nearly wince at the action she just did. and you will never open your mouth about your crush on noel.
"nope. i just ran out." you say confidently with a clearing of your throat.
"you ran out of lingerie? Jesus, how many did'ya have?" she says with a loud chuckle.
great, now she thinks you're a stripper outside of the office.
"not a lot, that's why..." you stop yourself, not wanting to get caught in more lies. "anyway, it's not for the party, I just happen to run out around the party's date." you chuckle nervously again.
what the fuck were you even saying?
her eyebrows lift with a slow nod. "ah."
wait- didn't you tell her its for the party? whatever- focus.
"uhh, i gotta run. thanks for that." you give her a small wave, slipping out of her cubicle before she can ask you any more follow up questions.
°˖➴
you have your earbuds in, pink floyd's "the wall" playing as you departed the bus. your black boots hit the wood of the boardwalk, and you remove your sunglasses, looking up at 'tessa's' dress shop. you take in a deep breath, removing one earbud and pulling the door open.
a jingle sings above your head, and all heads turn to you in the store. a woman greets you hello, and you smile back with a small wave. you travel around the store, utterly confused about what you're looking for. what type of dress is suitable for a release party?
then, someone taps your shoulder. it shakes you to life, and you drop the expensive leather dress between your fingers. you turn around, removing the other earbud and giving the woman in front of you a smile.
"hi. do you need help with anything?" she asks with a creepily large grin.
you smile back and consider her question before denying her like you would in any other store where the staff is overly bothersome.
"yeah, actually." you titter lightly.
"what can i help you with?" she clasps her hands in front of her stylish brown belt and dress pants, looking like she just walked out of a political magazine.
"I need a dress for a release party, but I'm not sure which is suitable for the event." you explain to her.
she taps her chin. "you'd want to be looking at cocktail dresses, darling."
she guides you to the back of the store where a beautiful rack of cocktail dresses lay, all shiny and silky and waiting to be bought.
matt was right. this place is expensive but has very beautiful varieties of fabrics.
you try on three, and the same woman who helped you to the back of the store waits for you to try on each one. she says they normally don't have lots of customers because of the weighted prices, and usually richer tourists arrive on the weekends- not on random thursdays after work.
"i love that one." she claps her hands as you step out past the curtain in the dressing room.
you blush, running your hands down the lacy black fabric.
"marjorie, come look at her!" the woman who you now know her name is tessa, the owner of the store yells.
marjorie erupts from behind the counter and her eyes widen.
"oh, that's the one." she points her finger up and down at your figure.
"you have nice hips, i must say." she nods eagerly.
"thank you," you giggle.
"what about the white one, though?" you point back at a silky white dress that comes with a matching neck scarf hanging on a gold hook.
"i think this one is sexier. more bold." tessa points out with a tilt of her head.
"i agree." marjorie states.
tessa lifts off the cushion and walks over to you in the middle of the dressing room, adjusting the dress at your waist.
"i like the tight fit near the waist, don't you think?" she asks you with a safety pin secured between her teeth.
you nod your head.
"there. all done." she smiles, tapping your shoulder so you can look in the long mirror behind you. you turn around, absolutely astonished by the sight in front of you.
"whoa." you breathe out, eyeing the material and the way it grabs your waist so perfectly.
"that's the one." tessa whispers while squeezing your shoulder.
you laugh and nod your head.
°˖➴
after that purchase, you know you can't spend like that for a while, but you almost never treat yourself. it feels good. next stop, 'the chateau'. you hope there are nice ladies in that store that can help you find things.
you walk inside, the light pink walls and black polka dots all around the store are almost blinding you. you haven't been in one of these in a while, considering you do online shopping and find nice underwear in the catalogs you were sent.
your earbuds are back in, the song "young lust" blasting loudly in your ears.
you can't hear, but one woman waves to you and mouths the words, "good afternoon" and you just nod with a smile. you travel deeper into the store, looking for the lingerie section. hell, the whole store is full of lingerie but you really just need tinier panties and a suitable bra.
you find the tinier-panties-section and your eyes widen at each one. how the fuck is that called underwear? you shake off the thought and pick up another one with a chuckle.
you have always lived in a shadow at work. the only two people who know you are matt, because he's your best friend, and miriam because she knows everyone and as much as everyone's business as she can. not even noel can remember your name for christ's sake-
a tap on your shoulder.
it's probably just a worker.
you're holding a pair of lacy black panties as you turn around to address the worker.
your eyes trail up to the person in front of you, until they widen a large amount and your cheeks flush hot.
noel???
definitely not a worker!!
he's smiling down at you, his hands are jammed in the pockets of his denim jeans. his eyes dart down to the panties in your hand, and you immediately close your eyes in embarrassment.
"hey, birdie." he greets you, tilting his head, trying to get your eyes to meet his again.
"hi mr. gallagher." your voice is small.
"whatcha buyin' there?" he asks, nodding towards the lace bunch in your hands.
"nothing." you throw it back into the pile behind you.
shit. shit. shit.
he chuckles, and then for the tiniest second his eyes drag down to your lips. "uhh...what are you doing here?" you clear your throat.
he huffs a laugh. "girlfriend. wants sumthin from the new collection?" he looks just as puzzled as you in the store.
"oh." you nod, trying your best not to act weird around him. it needs to end right now. where's the nearest exit?-
"what about you?" he asks.
your face freezes and your palms start to sweat uncontrollably.
"just...shopping." you manage to say.
he smiles. "right. sorry."
"no, it's fine." you rub your head in embarrassment.
"I just saw you and thought I might say hi. you're from the office."
you nod your head with a tightlipped smile.
"the coffee spill." he points out with a wave of his finger around your torso.
you chuckle once. "yep."
"what were you listening to?" he points to your earbuds.
"oh," you chuckle twisting the wire between your fingers. "pink floyd."
his eyes widen. "really? which album?"
"the wall." you tell him.
"i love that album."
"really?"
he nods his head once. then says, "fuck, i had your name on the tip of my tongue..."
you tell him again, and he nods slowly. "yep. i remember you."
you try to look around at anything but him, but he won't stop looking at you. his gaze is too intense, you don't want to be rude. your eyes always find their way back to his.
"we're havin a release party tomorrow night." he tells you.
"are you?" you act oblivious to the fact that oasis is going to throw a massive party for their new album just before the tour.
"yeah. the whole crew is invited. you should stop by."
you're here buying lingerie for the party. but he doesn't have to know that.
you smile at him. "i will."
"great. see ya." he turns around, ready to walk away.
"i'll see you at the office, mr. gallagher." you say.
he stops in his tracks, a smirk on his face. "you know you can just call me noel, right?" he says.
your eyes widen. "oh-"
"im around your age- s'bit weird, don't cha think?"
you stay quiet.
"makes me sound like some old grump." he chuckles.
"bye, noel." you mutter, returning to your underwear hunt behind you.
°˖➴
you take off from work today so that you could buy a new pair of ballet flats and get ready for the release party. it's silly, but you haven't taken a day off since last year.
you meet everyone at the office at six pm, and you spot matt talking to charlie at his desk. as soon as he looks up at you, matt's jaw drops to the floor. charlie whips his head around, his jaw open as well. you blush, setting your purse down at your desk and walking over to matt's.
"thank you." you give matt a tight hug.
"tessa does the trick. did you see her?"
"yep. she helped me with this one." you twirl around in your black dress, letting matt clap for you and charlie laughing as he does so.
you never did dress up. but you need mr. right to notice you. it's so out of character for you; maybe because he's already seen your bra and watched you shop for underwear. you can't tell anyone- it would be so embarrassing. maybe if you just take care of yourself and make more of an effort to look beautiful, maybe he'd remember your name.
but you heard him in the store. he has a girlfriend. he was buying her a scrap of fabric from a new lingerie collection you had no idea about.
the phone rings, and matt picks it up as soon as possible.
"hellooo?" he spins around in his chair.
you watch him nod as he replies, and then hangs up.
"the printer room has contracts ready that you need to review for noel." matt tells you.
your heart almost jumps out of your chest again just at the mention of his name. as long as you aren't going to room six, everything should be fine.
"alright. will he be there?" you breathe out, swiping stray hairs that have fallen from your bun out of the way.
matt and charlie's eyebrows perk up. "i'm not sure...why?" they look at each other, then back at you.
you freeze. "I meant- I don't wanna go talk to the chief looking like a dumpster diver, right?" you chuckle anxiously.
their mouths drop. "holy shit," matt sings.
you roll your eyes.
"you fancy the chief?" charlie asks with a playful gasp.
"so that's why you asked miriam about lingerie yesterday." matt snaps his fingers.
your expression drops. "how do you know about that?" you nearly shout.
"you should know by now to never tell miriam anything."
"true." you sigh.
that bitch.
"don't stress. you look good." matt reassures you.
"thanks."
"do you want me to check where he is?"
"yes." you don't need to hesitate.
running in to noel with a sexy black dress is not on your bucket list.
"he's supposed to be in a tour meeting in room four right now."
"great."
you walk down the hallway towards the printer room, pushing the door open without thinking.
you gasp at the sight in front of you, not expecting a very sweaty vision of liam and patsy eating each other's faces off in the printer room. his hand squeezes her waist and her hands are buried in his chest. it's dark in there, so they must have noticed the bright light that shone on them once you cracked open the door.
her blonde hair stands out in the light, and she whips her head around to see you in the doorway.
your lips part. "shit, sorry-" you click the door shut, your chest heaving.
you should just quit your job at this point.
you smack your palm against your head. "fuckin stupid-"
"y/n?"
"what?" you snap.
they didn't answer. your eyes fly open, only to be met with noel's face again.
"Jesus- fuck," you shake your head quickly.
"did i startle you?"
"no, its not you-" you stutter, trying to find the words.
his brows lift.
you take a deep breath before you spill out and make no sense.
"your brother's snogging some blonde bird in there," you gesture towards the printer room, waving your fingers around lazily.
"sorry about him." noel shakes his head.
"its fine." you sigh. "sorry. shouldn't you be in a meeting?"
he squints. "how'd you know?"
"matt checked your schedule."
"you stalking me now, birdie?"
you chuckle. "i thought you knew my name."
"i do." he steps closer to you.
your breath hitches, and he notices.
"you all dolled up for the party?" noel asks.
"yeah." you place your hands out at your sides, revealing your dress.
his eyes drag up your figure, and then his cheeks go pink. "i like your dress."
you smile. "thanks, noel."
your dress is black, the hem ending mid-ankle. the top is a beautifully constructed black corset with lace lining the edges, along with tiny black straps that hang on your shoulders. you're wearing your signature black ballet flats, (of course). heels would kill you for sure.
he turns around to get back to the meeting down the hall, but then snaps his fingers and spins his head around. "you got the contracts I sent you, yeah?"
you nod your head. "they're uh, in the printer room."
he giggles. "gotcha."
°˖➴
the release party is loud.
the venue is so big, the DJ in the corner near the bar, a pool of people sticking to each other.
"the fuck is this, then?" you hear noel yelling at your boss james.
"noel, just listen to me-" your head boss fights back.
you sip your martini carefully in the corner, watching the way noel's lips move as he argues. he's sweating, the buttons on his shirt flying open at the top.
you look over at his girlfriend; meg, you remember miriam told you her name once. she's laughing with liam and patsy, a cig between her fingers. she's just perfect. wearing a beautiful leopard dress and her striking blonde hair; her smile lighting up the whole room with a smoke ring around her head.
your eyes move back to noel, and you bite on your straw without even realizing. his eyes find yours through the crowd, and your chest heaves. your fingers grip the cold glass as you sip your drink.
before you know it, you're in a staring contest with noel gallagher and your drink has finished; the empty slurping noises filling your ears over the loud music.
your eyes don't leave his as you glide over to the bar, leaning on the counter and asking for another martini.
a few minutes passes, and now you're on your third martini. your vision blurs, but isn't that the point? you have to let go. you take a drag from the cig that's between your red manicured nails.
someone lands next to you at the bar. and you don't know if your senses are extra hyper now that you're dazed, but you know exactly who it is. he's sneaked up on you way too many times.
you smell his cologne from behind you, and you want to drink in that scent.
"noel." you greet him as he grabs the cig that lies between your fingers, taking a long drag.
you turn your head and rest your chin in your hands as you look at the man that stands next to you. the previous wave of anger still lingers on his face.
"why the clenched jaw?" you ask, waving a lazy finger in his face.
he looks at you, your eyes blown wide and your face slightly pouted. you are definitely drunk.
"that fucker is supposed to be managing me," he points at james, both you and his head boss. "but he has no idea what the fuck he's making me look like," noel shakes his head.
"what'd ya mean?" you ask with an unhurried blink of your eyes.
"i never asked for a fucking DJ. and he's playing stupid pop hits. seriously- who in their right mind plays the spice girls at an oasis release party?"
you laugh loudly at that.
apparently your laugh is contagious, because his lips curl into a smile before he breaks into a chuckle. then he shakes his head.
once you start, you can't stop. and you were fully blaming the alcohol for that. you covered your mouth as you laughed.
"whats so funny?"
"you."
his eyes widen. he isn't expecting that. "me?"
you nod. "yes. when you're angry." you take another sip of your martini.
"right." he nods slowly. "how many of those have you had?"
you shrug once. "two," you trace the wet rim of the glass with a red lipstick mark on it. "maybe three?"
"okay, that's your last one." he points at your half full glass.
you frown. "what? says who?"
"says me." he takes the last drag of your cig, dabbing it into the ash tray.
"you aren't the boss of me." you pout.
"actually, i am." he says with a wink.
oh, yeah. how could you forget that?
your eyes flicker and drop to his lips. you think about how soft they are. but you have to stop yourself.
he chuckles, following your gaze. too late. he's noticed.
you bite your lip and drop your head, trying to shake off the thought of his lips on yours.
"are you alright?" he asks, your head tipping to meet his eyes again.
you nod slowly, your teeth still sinking into your bottom lip as you scoop your hair out of your face.
you looked nothing like you did when you arrived at the office at six. your pack is now missing three cigs, you're drunk on mysterious orange martinis, and your hair tie broke so now your hair is a loose mess in your face. the humidity in the crowded room is not helping your case, by the way.
"would you like another?" the bartender shouts over the music, a towel hanging off his shoulder.
you smile at him, and then look back at noel.
"she's fine." noel puts his hand up.
"actually," you cut in with an extended finger.
"one more would be great." you wink at the bartender while licking your lips.
it's like he forgot noel existed, his statement going out the window. the bartender nods, returning to the drinks behind the counter.
noel scoffs, shaking his head slowly.
you widen your eyes at his expression. "what?" you ask innocently with a little shrug.
"i'm thirsty." you say as you pick up the maraschino cherry in your empty glass and bite it off the stem with a sharp pop.
he watches your mouth, the way you effortlessly bite it and drop the stem back into the glass.
you had unintentionally started another staring contest with noel gallagher. and this time, you didn't shy away. you're far too dazed to even care about your appearance.
you openly laugh, your cheeks don't flame each time he speaks a word to you, your hair is really, really frizzy. and- you don't care.
"if you're thirsty, you should be drinking water." he proposes, waving over the bartender for a bottle.
"no! noellllll," you groan, your head dropping to the cold, grimey counter.
he thanks the bartender who also slid your fourth martini across the counter to you. noel taps some blonde bird and offers her the martini with a kind smile. she laughs, smacks his shoulder once, and then travels deeper into the crowd.
he's grateful you don't see.
"drink." he slides you the cold bottle.
you frown. "where's my martini?"
"guess he forgot. drink." he nods towards the water bottle.
hm. that's weird. you thought your flirting skills were pretty good.
you crack open the cap with a small pop and down the whole bottle in seconds.
"damn, birdie. I didn't have to force you." he pats your back as you swallow the water.
"I told you I was thirsty."
°˖➴
it's midnight. you're dancing in the middle of the venue with hundreds of people surrounding you. you lost matt and forgot where noel told you he'd be when he said, "I'll be right back, don't move"
when you grabbed his arm to ask him where he was going, he told you, and you nodded even though the fact disappeared the second it had entered your brain.
someone taps your shoulder. it's rough. it's rushed.
you turn around with a sweaty grin on your face, your hair sticking to your face.
it's noel. a glare is plastered to his face.
your grin falters at his expression. he's clearly upset. at you?
"what the fuck are you doing?" he asks sharply.
your eyes flicker. "dancing?" you say it like it's obvious.
"i told you to stay put."
you squint at him. "no you didn't"
he shakes his head. "yes i did." he argues.
"i don't remember." you admitted.
he looks at you. hard. "did you have another martini?" he searches your wide eyes, clearly drunken.
you felt like a kid caught stealing candy from a candy store.
"no."
"no?" he lifts a brow.
"no."
you obviously had another martini.
his hands are on his hips as he looks down at your lips, trying to keep himself together. he wouldn't lose it on you. but he knew you were fragile. anybody could take advantage of you. he didn't know why he was so attached to you- or why he couldn't stop thinking about the shy girl from the office.
"let's go." he says.
"go where?" you ask.
"i'm taking you home."
your head jerks back. "no you aren't."
"yes i am."
you frown. "i'm not ready to go home."
he sighs, clearly exhausted by your questions. "come on, love. you're wasted." he reaches for your forearm, dragging you towards the door of the party room.
"noel, wait-" you adjust the falling strap of your purse, nearly tripping over your feet as he guided you out the doors.
the cool london air hits your back, sending a shiver up your spine.
"you cold, birdie?" noel asks, his hands already on the hem of his jacket.
you nod once, rubbing up your arms in a soothing motion. he drapes the fabric of his suit jacket around you, and you inhale the scent shamelessly.
he adjusts it tightly around you, helping you button it. the navy blue shoulder pad hit your cheek as you turn to look at him with wide eyes.
"where's your place?" he asks with a sigh.
"i can't go back yet." you say simply.
his expression flickers with exhaustion. "why not?"
"cause i left all my stuff at the office."
"Jesus Christ," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his forehead.
the office was forty-five minutes away from the venue.
"alright, I'm calling a cab." he dials the buttons on his flip phone, and you zone out as you hear him speak to the cab company on the phone.
°˖➴
the cab arrives around a few minutes later, and noel guides you into the vehicle. you're a stumbling mess, the strap of your dress falling down your shoulder beneath his oversized suit jacket.
you sit in the car with noel for forty five minutes, and it's full of silence. but weirdly, not an awkward silence. a comfortable one.
you drift off to sleep, your head falling onto his shoulder once you've gotten on the highway, and his expression softens as he adjusts your head on his chest for more comfort.
you and noel arrive at the office around ten to one, and you stumble towards the lift.
you sink back against the metal doors, forgetting to hold onto the railing as noel presses the button for the eighth floor and the doors come to a close.
the lobby music ceases as the doors close and he second the lift moves, you trip over your feet, blindly searching for something to hold.
noel grabs onto you quickly, holding you up. "you alright?"
you nod once quickly. no, you were not alright. you hadn't even heard him; ever since the cab ride you would nod at everything he said regardless if you heard. and you were glad he hadn't noticed yet.
"hold on to the railing." he tells you and then lets go of your arm.
the lift climbs higher and he's standing an appropriate distance from you. the lift finally jolts in place as it arrives on the eighth floor, and you stumble over your feet again and fall flat on your face.
"shit!" noel's eyes widen and he rushes over to you, making an effort to pull you up by your biceps.
you groan, rubbing your tired eyes, refusing to move.
"didn't i tell you to hold the railing?" he stands above you.
you obliviously nod again.
he sighs. "come on, love. get up."
"i'm fine here." you slur your words.
"fucking hell, would you please get up?" his tone is sharper now.
you don't respond, just yawn from your spot on the carpeted floors of the lift.
he huffs once and then grabs your forearms and forces you off the floor.
he guides you out of the lift, the hard grip of his fingers on your arm is pinching you.
you groan, trying to push him off of you. "i can do it myself" you mumble.
he stands there helpless as you nearly fall on your face again, holding onto the nearest cubicle like a lifeline.
he sighs, shakes his head, and then catches up with you.
you finally reach your desk, slamming your hands against the glass. you bend down to find your things under your desk.
noel accidentally lets his gaze wander, his eyes finding the open hole in your tights that you picked at, near the top of your thigh. his cheeks burn hot and he looks away quickly.
"gotcha." you mutter to yourself under your breath as you slam your black work bag on your desk. things fly out of your bag, spilling onto your desk and onto the floor of the office.
"shit," you mutter, trying to gather your things.
he comes up behind you. "do you need help?"
you roll your eyes. "no. i thought i told you i could do it myself."
he huffs a laugh. "alright then."
the red apple that was once in your bag rolls around on the floor, along with your diary and a black pen, open to a previous entry. it catches his eye, he tries to read it, but his eyes blur as you slam your hand against his chest for support, the other hand plastered on your desk.
once you think you can stay balanced, you sigh, removing your grip on his chest.
"can you stand?"
you nod in response.
"i have to pee." you run a hand through your hair with a sharp sigh.
once you trudge towards the bathroom and unintentionally slam the bathroom door, noel bends down to pick up your fallen items.
he throws the apple in the air and juggles it once, then places it back into your bag. he collects each writing utensil and puts it back. his eyes finally land on the pink diary in the corner near the leg of your office chair.
he was going to close it and replace it like all the other items, but something catches his eye.
his name. in your diary. in fancy cursive, all pretty and perfect.
noel squints, reaching for the diary and letting it settle between his fingers. he doesn’t know what to feel. happy? disturbed? no, he’s just intrigued.
his eyes scan the page before properly reading all of your entries. he flips back to your first one with a small chuckle.
1/9/97
dear diary, I think I've fallen in love. and I'm not exaggerating when I say my heart stuttered when I laid eyes on noel gallagher. everything about him is perfect. my favorite feature is his smile. because even though he is a grump most of the time, I watched him smile today and it was the most beautiful smile i've ever seen. I wish he would do it more often. christ, his smile wasn't even meant for me and i felt it just as deep. I can't explain how he makes me feel, but it's contagious. whenever I caught him smiling, I had to bite my lip so I wouldn't. i've watched him before, but not like the last few days. something sparked inside me, and now I cant stop thinking about him. maybe one day we'll get to know each other. maybe one day his smile will be meant for me.
he smiles just like you had described. then flips to the most recent page. yesterday morning.
8/20/97
dear diary, I've never been more embarrassed in my life. noel gallagher had seen my bra. he'd looked at the color, made a comment, and then shot me the most dangerous smile. and it wasn't like all the other times. he didn't remember my name again, but he repeated it on his lips. my name on his lips did something horrible to my heart. I swear I'm going mad and he'll never be aware of it. I'm just the girl who spilled coffee on her blouse and accidentally flashed noel gallagher. and maybe that's all i'll ever be to him.
his expression softens at the most recent one, but something in his heart flickers. sadness, maybe?
all of a sudden, the door to the bathroom opens with a loud click. he hesitates, slamming your diary so quickly it flings out of his hands and falls back onto the floor.
"shit." he mutters, scrambling for the diary, unable to find it.
you're standing in the doorway of the bathroom, a few feet away from noel, your head resting back against the wall with a small thud.
"alright?" he asks nervously with a tightlipped smile, trying to brush off whatever he saw a few moments ago.
you nod slowly. "yeah."
"good. ready to head home?" he gathers the rest of your fallen belongings on your desk and throws it into your black bag, darting his head under each desk to look for the diary.
you don't answer. he furrows his brows, zips up your bag, and then walks over to you near the bathroom.
"what's wrong?" he scans your face.
your face is pale and your expression goes serious. "noel." you whisper a warning.
"what, love?" he searches your expression curiously.
"i..." you start, trying not to choke.
he drops your bag on the nearest desk, forgetting about the diary, moving closer to you.
"i think I'm gonna be sick." you gag.
"shit." he guides you backwards into the bathroom, forcing the light on.
you groan loudly, falling to your knees over the toilet as you wretch all of your martinis.
he holds your hair away from your face, letting you spill into the toilet. your hands grip the bottom of the porcelain toilet, barfing your guts out in that very office, past midnight, with noel gallagher behind you.
"let it out, birdie." he pats your back with his free hand.
after a few minutes, you sink back against the tile wall. he grabs a napkin from the dispenser above your head, dabbing it with water and handing it to you. you lazily snatch it, swiping it across your lips.
"thanks," you slur, dropping the napkin into the toilet and flushing it away.
"you all done?" he asks.
you nod your head once.
"alright, come on-" he heads for the door.
a loud noise of you wretching again fills the room.
"fuck!" he positions your body over the toilet properly as you lazily spill again.
"i had too many martinis," you moan as your head rests against the wall again.
"you should have listened to me." he passes you another napkin.
°˖➴
the car ride back to your place is eventful. the cab driver must have been drunk aswell, because the way he's swerving on the highway makes noel pray you don't surprise-vomit again. your head flaps onto his lap like a dead corpse, and he cradles your head to keep you steady.
"where's your place?" he asks, shaking you to life.
"huh?"
"where's your flat, love?" noel squints down at you.
"uhm," you sniffle. "where are we?"
he looks out the window. "crossfield," he tells you.
"make a right" you slur.
he repeats it to the driver, which makes another very unsafe turn.
"we're here." noel says as he reaches over to pay the driver and then picks up your head. you hold your head as you get up to fast, trying to steady your vision.
"thanks, mate." noel pats the driver's shoulder roughly, and then gently escorts you out of the car.
you grab the railing of the entrance to your flat, carefully moving up the stairs. he grabs your waist as you clumsily trip over your feet again.
"careful, birdie." he adjusts your position, moving you into your flat. he takes your keys, asking you which one goes in the lock. once he figures it out, he directs you inside.
"it's so fucking hot in here" you groan, trudging towards your bedroom.
"I'm gonna make you some tea, okay?" he tells you.
"m'kay" you rub your eyes, grabbing the wall for support as you travel deeper into your flat towards your bedroom.
the second you hit your room, you unzip your dress and slip out of it, and your tights are next.
you stand clad in your bra and underwear, the matching black set you bought that day at 'the chateau'.
"i've got tea," noel kicks open your bedroom door, carefully balancing steamy a mug between his hands.
his eyes drag up to your face, but are met with the sight of your soft skin. the orange lamp light casting a glow on your skin as you stretch your arms over your head with a yawn.
you turn around, your hands buried deep in your frizzy hair. "thanks." your lips curl into a smile.
heat rises to his face, and he clears his throat. he tries to avert his eyes, but your figure is so perfect, he finds it hard to look away.
when he finally manages, his eyes fix on the carpet and he picks up your lacy dress, tossing it into your hamper.
you slump down onto your bed, stretching your limbs across the soft white sheets. he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, looking back at you.
"i gotta go now." he says.
"aw, come on noely," you slur, resting on your elbow.
he chuckles and shakes his head.
"it's really late." he pats his thighs, moving off your bed.
"it's a friday night." you excuse his statement.
"i know."
“which means it’s almost the weekend.”
“i know.”
"i don't want to be alone." you confess.
he gives you a sad smile. "i know."
"is it her?" you ask, completely unfiltered.
his eyebrows furrowed. "what?"
"the blonde girl." you nearly groan at the thought of her face.
he laughs, scratching his neck. "dunno, love. its just late. I should get some sleep."
"so she isn't waiting for you?"
he stares blankly at you. "how do you know about meg?"
"everyone knows about her. she's perfect." you admit with a pout.
he huffs a laugh. "i s'pose she's still at the party."
"if she's still partying then its not too late for you to go home." you say.
he chuckles once. you may have been drunk, but you weren't stupid.
he lays down next to you, with a respectable distance, telling himself he’ll stay just until you fall asleep, but time gets away from him. around four in the morning, noel sneaks out and leaves you a tiny note by your bedside.
you wake at seven, rolling around in your bed with messy hair draped over your eyes. you groan, the impact of a pounding headache sinking in. you’re only in your black set that you bought the other day, and you wonder, where the hell did my clothes go?
you get out of bed and get ready for the day, your eyes finally meeting your black dress in the hamper along with your pantyhose. when you pull on a fresh t-shirt and house shorts, you realize a note on your nightstand.
a messy, rushed, and script handwritten note lies on your white table near your lamp, and you slowly lift it close to your eyes.
birdie,
last night was eventful. im glad i got to know ya. please take care of yerself- i left you some hangover shite on the counter. hope that helps.
P.S. i haven’t forgot your name.
your lips part, and then curl into a smile. he had left a note. he had remembered your name.
you drop the note back onto your dresser, carefully padding into the kitchen. the floors are ice cold, sending a shiver up your body. you rub your arms that were covered in goosebumps, searching for a nearby sweater to cover your body.
you spot noel's blue suitjacket hanging off the stool near your counter, and you scurry over to wrap it over your body. on the counter was a bottle of water, painkillers to cure the headache, and another note with his phone number just in case you needed him.
why was he being so nice? he was never explicitly kind to you, let alone would ever take notice of you.
you pop the painkillers into your mouth, downing the whole bottle of water in just a few minutes. you've never been hungover before, mainly because you only had one drink whenever you went out.
you walk back to your bedroom, sinking back into the sheets again. you stay like that, wrapped in his suit jacket that still smells like his cologne, and you inhale it softly as you slowly drift off to sleep.
5:15pm. a knock.
5:16pm. the doorbell.
then again.
then an, "open the door, i know you're in there."
5:17pm. the doorbell again, this time over and over again until your head is pounding even harder and you're fully awake.
you groan, tripping over your feet as you scramble for the door, where the doorbell is still ringing, someone pushing at the noisy button rapidly.
"what?" you moan, swinging open the door.
noel stops, his hand frozen on the button.
his eyes drag up your figure. you're still in your black lacy scraps, your chest partially covered with his dark suit jacket that hangs off your arms and drops to your hips.
he clears his throat, his eyes crawling back to your exhausted face.
"don't you know how it pick up the phone?" noel snaps at you.
you jerk your head back at his tone with a tiny scoff. "i was sleeping."
his face softens, his expression reading the words, "oh."
"i called you like, fifty times" he scratches his neck in embarrassment.
you look at him; study him, and tilt your head. why did he even care? it intrigued you how he wanted to be there for you.
"why?" you asked.
his expression dropped as he cleared his throat again. "dunno. wanted to check on you, i s'pose," he avoids your eyes with a small shrug.
"okay. well, i'm fine." you stand in the doorway, barefoot and barely covered.
it's clearly a distraction for noel. he can't look you in the eye.
"well, you forgot something at the office, so I came to drop it off." he says once he's recollected himself.
your head lifts off the door in curiosity, not expecting him to pull out your pink notebook with your diary entries inside it. your eyes widen in horror, snatching it out of his hands.
you press it tightly against your chest with a loud gulp. "why do you have this?" you freak out.
he's nearly scared of your tone. "uh, last night a bunch of things fell out of your purse, and you...forgot it."
your chest heaves, and you almost forget how to breathe. there was extremely embarrassing, super private, your-eyes-only type of stuff in there. did he read it?
you scooped your hair out of your pale face, trying to calm yourself down. he wouldn't invade your privacy like that.
"did you uh," you start, your breath shaky. "see anything?"
his brow perks up. "see what?"
"did you read it?" you ask hesitantly, your cheeks turning a firey shade of red.
he stays quiet. every second that passes by makes you more anxious, your diary being choked by your sweaty fingers.
"noel." you ask tentatively.
he looks away. "i..."
you want to crawl up into a ball and hide. he had seen your diary. your entries. your love notes. your confessions. everything.
"what did you see?" your voice is shaky, and you might cry from embarrassment.
"come on, birdie-" he puts his hands out in front of him to calm your nerves.
"what did you see?" you repeat even louder.
"do you really need me to clarify?" he mumbles while averting his eyes.
you practice deep breaths, still clutching your notebook tightly to your chest. maybe you can explain.
"you saw..." you start, cutting yourself off. the reality of it all was very terrifying. you were going to have an anxiety attack.
"yeah." he nods slowly.
everything starts to come together in your brain.
oh my God. he had invaded your privacy.
you look up at him with disgusted eyes. "you went through my things?" you ask shyly.
his eyes flash with panic, and he's quick to deny it. "what? no- it wasn't like that-"
"noel, just leave me alone." you move to close the door, trying to shut him out.
he drops his foot in the door, his sneaker standing in the way. your breathing trembles as your eyes crawl back up to his face with pure embarrassment. "you weren't supposed to see that."
"i figured." he says with a small chuckle.
you shake your head. this wasn't even a tiny bit funny.
he notices your discomfort. "listen, birdie. it fell out of your bag while you were in the bathroom, and it was open-"
"but you still read it." you shoot back.
his expression drops. "but-"
"no." you cut him off. "you knew it was private and you still read it."
"you don't have to be embarrassed-" he starts, but you interrupt him again.
"are you serious?" you nearly shout.
he falls silent. "of course I'm embarrassed. that wasn't meant for you to see." you run a shaky hand through your hair.
"i'm sorry." he shakes his head frantically, trying to get you to relax.
"just go." you mutter through tears.
"shit- i didn't mean to, okay? please don't cry, birdie" he looks helpless at your door, wanting to comfort you and tell you that you had nothing to be embarrassed about.
"please. just go." you sniffle, not looking at him. your hand tightens on the doorknob, ready to shut him out.
he keeps his distance, nodding once and moving down the hall, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.
you don't watch him leave, way too overwhelmed, and you shut the door the second he departs. the door slams, and you press your back against it as the tears begin to fall.
you swiped your palm against your wet, tear-stained cheeks, sniffling helplessly. once you stopped shaking from embarrassment, you slid down the door and dropped to the floor.
you tug your knees tightly to your chest, sobbing into noel's suit jacket. you pick up your diary that's on the floor next to you, flipping through the pages. your tears splatter on the white pages, causing the ink to run; ink that was once carelessly glided across your page.
you rip out each page with a loud sob, and the room fills with tearing noises. your fingers shake unintentionally as the words fall from each page into tiny bits on the wooden floor of your flat.
once you finish, you throw the pieces of paper into the garbage can and dig your palms into your eyes so roughly, you start to see stars.
°˖➴
the next day at the office is full of fake smiles and longing stares. for once, you don't peer into room six and watch him smile. you don't see him argue with your boss or sip black coffee. you just do your work like everybody else in the office. and it's boring.
"the chief wants to review contracts with you in room four." matt covers the telephone with his spare hand and calls to your desk.
"can't. it's my lunch break." you say, scooting out of your chair and grabbing your bag.
he lifts a brow. "no it's not. you already had your lunch break at twelve."
you stare blankly at him, and then steal a glance at the clock. it's eight at night. "whatever." you hurry out the door and press the button for the lift. your eyes wander to room four, and you see noel leaning on the desk, flipping through a few pages. he's sitting with liam and the rest of the band, as well as their tour manager lisa.
his eyes look through the glass and find yours like memory. your heart stutters, and the second your eyes meet his, you whip your head back around. the lift dings, and you step inside.
noel's expression drops, and he watches you through the glass. your eyes are on him as the lift's doors close, travelling down.
"noel?" lisa asks with an exasperated sigh, tapping her pen against the glass table.
liam knocks his shoulder against noel's, and he's brought back into the world. "what's wrong with you today, lad? yer so out of it" liam lifts a brow.
"huh?" noel asks while clearing his throat.
lisa's chin is in her hands. "i was just asking you if you wanted to add any songs to the setlist before we submit it."
"oh."
she lifts a brow.
uh, no. I'm fine with it if he is." noel fakes a smile.
lisa looks at liam, then back at noel.
"i like the new you." liam chuckles, taking a drag from his cig.
"I'll be right back." noel pushes out of his chair without hesitation, heading for the door.
"we're in the middle of a meeting, noel-" lisa shouts back at him, but is cut off by the sharp sound of the door closing.
"never fuckin' wants to listen to me, now he's fine with the setlist?" liam mumbles and shakes his head lazily.
°˖➴
he's sweating by the time he races down the stairs to the ground floor of the office, (the lift took too long). he pushes the door open as his button up is flapping open, his sunglasses resting above his head. he peels his eyes out for you, and they dash across the street. you're nowhere to be found. he crosses the street, looking around once more. as he turns his head right, he spots you. his heart flutters, watching you sit on a bench with your earbuds in, your unmistakable pink coat wrapped around your body and buttoned to the top.
the wind plays with your hair, sending a few strands into your eyes, and he watches you carefully. your legs are crossed, and you gaze into the distance, your expression saddened.
he takes a deep breath, stretches his hands out, and then opens the gate to the park. he gazes at you across the way, in front of the large waterfall, and your staring into the pennies at the bottom of the pond like you were hoping for something revolutionary to happen.
maybe you were.
he takes a cautious seat next to you on the bench, his movements steady and slow. he wasn't here to fight, or to embarrass you. you noticed him, but chose not to say anything. if you did, you'd probably just embarrass yourself even more.
"listen," he starts, but then cuts himself off. he thinks about what he's gonna say, realizing he shouldn't feed you information. you know exactly what you did and he knows exactly what he saw. there was no room for explanations. he just wants you to understand. maybe an apology is enough.
"i'm sorry." he says simply.
you blink once, slowly, and then turn your head in his direction. the swift london breeze is teasing your hair, and noel so badly wants to tuck it behind your ear and run his fingers along your freckled cheeks.
"its fine. you already saw it, it's not gonna fix anything." you tell him.
he sighs. maybe an apology isn't enough.
"you're not listening." noel clenches his jaw with a shake of his head.
you squint at him. "I hear you perfectly, noel."
he scoffs.
you roll your eyes at him. "cause seriously, now all I am is just a fucking weirdo to you. it's the truth, isn't it?" you snap.
he just watches you.
"I'm just the clumsy girl who daydreamed about you and spilled her coffee. the girl who you caught buying scandalous lingerie," you get up from the bench and zip up your work bag.
"just the crazy girl who writes about her stupid, childish, mr. right in her notebook," you ramble loudly, people starting to gaze over at you two now.
noel clears his throat, trying to keep things on the down low, not anything people knowing your business.
"just the girl who has a weird obsession with seeing you smile, right? i'm just fucking crazy?" you throw your arms out in defense.
he gets up from his place on the bench, his face centimeters from yours.
"you aren't crazy." he says, his voice low, while stepping even closer to you.
your breath hitches, but him being close to you isn't important right now.
"so then what is it? mental? peculiar?-" you squint at him from the blinding spring sun.
his fingers come up to brush your cheeks. your expression softens at the contact of his fingers on your skin. "i was going to say," he starts, his eyes searching yours.
you gulp loudly, utterly confused and waiting for his words.
"you shouldn't be embarrassed because I don't think it's weird. I think it's cute." he admits with a tiny smile.
you scoff. "like 'cute' is any better than weird. of course it's cute, noel. its childish." you try to shake your head, but he forces your eyes to his.
"i'm not mad at you." he clarifies, staring deep into your eyes.
"what?" you whisper.
he shakes his head softly in confirmation.
"why didn't you just talk to me?" he inquires, his lips curling into a smile.
"i couldn't. i was stupidly in love with you." you chuckle while kicking a rock with your boot, but there's no amusement there.
your eyes meet his again and he asks, "was?"
your heart flutters. "uh..."
he lifts a brow. "are you not in love with me anymore, birdie?"
you gulp loudly, trying to calm your breathing so you wouldn't stutter. "of course i still love you."
he's full on grinning now. "good. can i tell you something?"
you nod eagerly as he leans in, his lips at your ear. "i think I'm in love with you too." he whispers.
°˖➴
he presses your back against the wall next to your flat, kissing you passionately as your hands tug at his hair.
"get the key," he mutters between kisses, and you nod before looking down and scrambling for your keys at the bottom of your purse.
his kisses advance from your lips down to the length of your neck, unbuttoning your pink coat so he could gain more access to your skin. your fingers find the golden key, and you push it into the door.
you and noel tumble inside you flat, the keys falling onto the front table as he forces off your coat and then you reach for the zipper of his jacket. he chuckles and kisses your neck again as you pull off his black sunglasses and throw them on the couch.
his hands trail from your waist to your thighs, picking you up and carrying you through your flat. you smile as your hands clasp around his neck, not breaking the kiss. he hums as you tug the hair at the nape of his neck gently, and you giggle in response.
when you arrive in your bedroom, he doesn't bother with the light, kicking the door shut with his sneaker. he drops you and your feet hit the floor. you immediately reach for your button up, popping open the buttons and shrugging it off.
he laughs and shakes his head, looking down at your stunning black bra again. "you're gonna fuckin' kill me" he nearly groans, tugging his shirt out from his belt. you pull it off in one motion.
you press your lips to his tenderly, letting him savor your taste as he walks you backwards towards your bed. your ankles hit the wood border of your bed, and you giggle as you both fall down.
he adjusts on top of you, turning his head to kiss you deeper you groan at the feeling of his lips finally being on yours. after daydreaming about them, you can confirm he kisses better than you thought.
he runs his hands up and down your thighs, his fingers roaming your body teasingly as you shiver under his touch from the sensation of the cool metal of his silver rings touching your bare skin. "noel," you whisper, pulling his head closer to you so he can kiss your neck again.
"what, birdie?" he asks with a sigh as he peppers kisses all over your neck, making sure to suck the skin after. he does it again, trying to make you squirm.
you giggled instead, which makes him kiss you harder.
"nothing. i'm just really happy." you confess.
he smiles, shakes his head, and then leans back on his calves to unzip your black skirt. he kisses your neck once, and then pulls your skirt off swiftly. "believe it or not, but you look really fit in these grandma skirts,"
"shut up," you smack his chest lightly, and he gazes down at you again.
he shakes his head at you. "what's wrong?" you ask, disappointment flickering on your face. why'd he stop?
"you're so fucking beautiful." he nearly groans at the sight of you, crashing his lips against yours.
you sigh sweetly, the sound so beautiful to him. he tenderly rubs his thumbs along your waist to keep you steady, kissing the corner of your mouth, your jaw, and then the crook of your neck.
he runs his soft nose along the length of your neck, and then stops to look down at you again. what was it now?
"noel?" your shaky hands run up his bare biceps and cup his face.
"sorry." he says, shaking his head.
"what is it? tell me." you try to slow your rapid heartbeat.
"nothing, i just-" he repositions himself atop of you, his strong arms settling beside your head.
your brows furrowed in confusion. "did i do something wrong?" you ask innocently.
his eyes widen. "what? no." he shakes his head quickly. "no, no. fuck- it's not you." he squeezes his eyes shut.
your hands run up his chest in a soothing motion. "tell me." you ask again.
"i just..." he gulps. "i don't wanna rush things with you."
your whole body stills. "you mean, you don't want to..." you gesture to the both of you in your bed, half clothed.
he chuckles. "no, not like that. of course i want you, but i don't want it to be over so soon." he clarifies.
oh.
you smile slowly. "i want you too." you bite your lip.
"good." he settles over you properly, pressing his lips to yours once.
his eyes search yours as he stills, just drinking you in, taking a moment to really look at you. at your beauty. your originality. he's never met anyone like you before.
you sigh, growing tired of not having his mouth on yours. you curl your fingers around his silver chain, pulling him closer to your lips with it as the cold metal hits your face. you tug his strands of hair.
"eager, are we?" he laughs through passionate kisses.
"shut up already." you mutter back.
he traces the hem of your lace set, clicking his tongue. "did you buy this the day i ran into you?"
you bite your lip and nod teasingly.
"this is the one you were holding?" he asks with a smile.
you nod again, and he chuckles. "looks great on you." he kisses the strap at your shoulder, his hands firm on your waist.
°˖➴
you haven't slept this peacefully in years, the cool morning air slipping through your bedroom and washing over your skin. noel got up at six, slipping on his boxers and ruffling his hair as he looked over at you, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder.
he grabs his jacket on the floor and grabs his cig pack in the pocket, walking over to the window and lighting the cig over the bright sunlight.
you twist in bed, the sun nearly blinds you. you rub your wrist over your eyes gently as you yawn like a newborn kitten, stretching your limbs out across the sheets.
his eyes wander from the quiet rustling trees to an open drawer you forgot to close. your pink notebook. it's flipped open to the first and only page, looking like you had previously ripped the rest out. it's the first entry you had ever written about him. noel smiles, and then looks back at you, putting out his half-used cig and leaving it in the ashtray sitting on your windowsill. he rips out the last page, and then he crawls back into bed, forgetting to close the window.
his fingers dance on your arm, slowly soothing you and letting you drift back to sleep. his head sits on his elbow, intrigued by you and your soft breathing. after a few minutes, your eyes flutter open. you immediately smile, but then sink into the pillow and try to hide it. you turn so you're laying on your chest, the golden streak of sunlight sneaking through the window now casting a gleam on your bare back.
"morning, baby" he scoots closer to you running his nose up your back. the feeling tickles you, and you turn over with a quiet yawn.
"morning." you say as you move the sheets up to cover your bare chest, cupping his face and capturing him in a sweet kiss.
"so...are you gonna write about me again?" his fingers twirl in your hair.
you smack his hand away with a tiny smile. "what?"
he lifts the first entry he ripped out of your notebook, the folded piece of paper between his fingers.
you snatch the paper, opening it. "Jesus..." you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment once you see that it's your first entry.
"that one's my favorite." he kisses your cheek.
"really?"
"mhm." he brings his finger up to move your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead.
"what would i write, noel?" your brain returns to his previous question.
he shrugs. "maybe this time you could totally lose yer shit and talk about how i'm in your bed..." he drawls his words, moving over you again to pepper kisses all over your face.
you smack his face. "you're so annoying."
he smiles.
"fuck, you have a really pretty smile" you blurt out.
he widens his eyes. "some really great author wrote about it once. said sumthin like 'its the prettiest one they've ever seen?'" he taunts you.
"I hate you," you groan, trying to hide your face.
"well, I love you." he says it so casually.
you freeze, slowly removing your head from the pillow. you told each other the same thing last night, but now it feels more real. especially because the thought of meg arrives in your head.
"noel." you cover your mouth in pure horror.
"what?" his thumb brushes your shoulder softly.
"what about your girlfriend?"
he sighs. "I broke up with her."
your eyes nearly bug out of your head. "what?"
he nods solemnly. "yeah, uh-"
you sit up in bed, grabbing the sheet along with you as you sink back against the headboard and prepare for him to tell you.
"after I saw your letters, I noticed me and meg...we're always playing around, us. I don't want that, y'know? I want sumthin' real. and yer like...the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
your heart flutters. he's seen so many other pretty women before, an he chose you.
"was she mad?" you ask while biting your lip.
"nah," he shrugs it off. "we were drifting apart. she saw it too. and I've seen her give eyes to some posh artist who lives in new york...so"
"oh" you nod slowly.
"d'ya want breakfast?" he asks.
you nod. "do you need help finding things?" you ask as he moves down the hall.
"nah, i made ya tea before, remember?" he calls back to you.
you chuckle softly.
°˖➴
9/26/97
dear birdie, i have to say you take the crown with the cutest laugh i've ever heard. i saw you talkin to that lad at your desk, and i watched the way you tucked your pretty hair behind your ear and bit your lip. you're the most beautiful girl i've ever laid eyes on, so don't go forgettin' it.
P.S. tell that lad to fuck off. I have a feeling he knows I'm your boyfriend, so he shouldn't be making you laugh like that. (even though you're really adorable when doin' it.)
P.P.S. I love you.
P.P.P.S. don't forget to meet me in the printer room today at four. ;)
- noel
you bite into your apple as you chuckle from his note, looking into room six at his face as he watches you read it. he licks his lips as he takes a sip of coffee. you drop his note into your secret drawer where all his other love letters are, opening the cap of your pen with your teeth as he watches your mouth teasingly.
you start your own note.
9/26/97
dear noel, my laugh could never beat your beautiful smile. besides, matt is gay. he's not hitting on me, so you don't have to worry about that. he's my best friend. regarding your recent concerns, i could never miss the printer room. i've been thinking about it ever since i sat down and opened my computer. i love you.
- your birdie
he watches you write, and his gaze doesn't leave yours as you slowly pull out a blank envelope, opening it and swiping your tongue across the sticky seal. you kept your gaze on him the whole time, slipping the note inside the envelope and sealing it shut. then, you slowly got up out of your seat and walked over to noel's mailbox, slipping it inside.
"sending the chief sexy notes?" matt whispers with a playful gasp from his desk.
you giggled, putting your finger up to your lips and telling him to "shh".
"you know you can get fired for that, right?"
you shrug. "miriam's not the only one who's sending notes now."
"sneakyyyy" matt winks at you and returns to his work.
the door to room six opens, and noel slips out. he reads your note right then and there in front of his mailbox, not waiting to go somewhere secret to read it first. when he's done, he gives you hungry eyes and nods towards the printer room.
he mouths the words, "now."
your lips curl into a large grin as you toss your apple into the trash and walk towards the printer room.
he waits a few minutes before slipping inside not to seem suspicious, and he locks the door behind him.
"hi." he says with a loud sigh after turning around. you two are finally having alone time after a lot of teasing stares across the room.
your teeth are sinking into your bottom lip and your legs are crossed.
"hi." you wave adorably, and he nearly groans at the sight of you.
noel backs you up against the wall, crashing his lips against yours. "yer so fuckin sexy," he runs his nose along the length of your neck.
his big hands tuck under your thighs, pushing your skirt up until your lifted off the floor and into his arms. he sits you on top of the printer with a small thud.
"you locked it, right?" you ask through kisses and heavy breaths.
he hums against your lips. "yep. wouldn't wanna get caught by some shy office girl, right?"
you giggle at his reference, remembering how embarrassed you were after walking in on liam and patsy. they had found a new spot now, the printer room being you and noel's hideout.
"i love you." you kissed him hard as his fingers dug into your waist.
"love you more, birdie." he smiles the same smile that did something to your heart all those months ago. and it damaged your heart the same exact way as it did the first time. and you never wanted to forget it.
°˖➴
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