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Summary
"No. No, no. Just. Just shut up. Figure Skating isn't a game, okay. I don't play figure skating, I perform it. Big difference from your elementary recess time you call a sport. That's a game."
Niall only inhales, sighs loudly into the cold air. "This is nice. You and me. This chilly night, the stars are bright. Perfect time to lay out how we really feel about each other, don't you think?"
Or, Zayn likes the stars; Niall reads too many horoscopes; and neither is mature enough to drop their irrational hate.
