I'm Royalty, So What?

I'm actually really bad at writing these things so read on. Please?

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6. The Plan

Miley's POV

I sat in my best childhood friend's bed sniffling. "Alright Miles! There is no time for crying! We gotta show this punk." She said punk with such venom in her voice, it was just plain scary. "Who really has control." Selena smirked. "Who-" "You! Hello! You're royalty! Now, I have the perfect plan." She rubs her hands together evilly. "What is it?" I bounce, excited. "My cousin Ashton. He's really cute. Dimples and everything." "Dimples?" I repeat. "You bet. You'll fake date him for a while and you gotta make it look real." "You're talking to royalty here! I gotta act like I'm actually listening at those business meetings." I scoff. She laughs. "Perfect! I'll call Ashton right now!" She runs out with her phone. This is a great plan! Fake dating Ashton and then, then, then what? How does this affect Niall? I don't get it. I sighed as Selena walked back in. "He's up for it! He'll be here in a few minutes for the whole run down." She nods. "How does this affect Niall though?" "He'll get jealous and then he'll ask you out. Then you come out with the great line of 'No thanks' and he'll be all like why and you'll be like, wait for it, 'Cause I'm happy without you.' then you'll be like 'hash tag sorry not sorry' then strut away full of pride. He'll come begging for you. That's when you'll "fake" your realization and break up with Ashton and then get together with him, then break his heart once more then say 'now you know how I felt earlier' and walk away. He'll realize what a big idiot he is and apologize and you get back together and love each other forever because you realize how much you mean to each other." She explains. I nod and the doorbell rings. "C'mon!" She drags me down the stairs. She opens the door. I gasp at the sight.

He was perfect. Muscular, but not too muscular. Skinny, but not too skinny. A perfect smile. The dimples, those dimples. Oh, those dimples. That curly, and unruly hair. That hair that I just want to run my fingers through every day. All mine. He stared right back and I realized I probably looked terrible because of the crying. I ran upstairs and into the bathroom, locking the door. I can't come out. I can never come out. Until he leaves.  

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