#jake standing out in the rain gave me flashbacks to watching this back in the day

[britishchick09]

i never thought i’d see a rainbow high ad on a two and a half men video but here we are! :o

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I... I would... I would love to see Jameson testing Jake some more... I mean the drabble of him demanding Jake let him do things for him for food was... good...

Your wish is my command, my love

CW: Noncon/dubcon (nightmare, semi-explicit), noncon/dubcon touching and kissing, internal dehumanization, flashbacks, survivor initiates spice and is rejected, conditioned behavior, trauma response, knives, blood

More salt-copper-sweetness than sugar and vanilla, now, Nanda’s voice is rough with his breath hot against the pet’s ear. It’s a warmth that covers him, inside and out. 

It presses against the underside of the pet’s skin, and he opens his mouth to pant, sure that the blood will come back out from within him when he does, that he’ll spill Nanda’s voice back at him, a waterfall of the touch and tension and twist leaving him to fall like an offering or a plea at Nanda’s feet.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” Nanda asks, licking at the shell of his ear, and the pet shivers, all his awareness stretched between the hot tongue on his skin and the cold blade of the knife, the flat side pressed against his ribcage on one side.

Each is a promise, and the pet wants both to be kept.

“I-I...” His own voice is weak, snap of twigs, rosemary boiled in water until the flavor is gone. He shifts, kneeling somewhere that he can’t remember, a small room in a small house on a small street in a town where everything is named for the glory of the man he saved her from. There’s a folded paper on a desk and if he can only look, he’ll know, he’ll know why and where and when. If he can only look-

“I thought it might b-be difficult-... ah!”

Nanda’s hand, rough palms and calloused fingers, curving around the back of his neck over his collar, jerking him closer, and he forgets the note and the room and the town and there is only Nanda, there has only ever been Nanda and the pain. There are metal cuffs around his wrists, his favorite ones that scratch him and sting perfectly for hours after they’re done, keeping his hands behind him, just touching the small of his back with his wrists and his knuckles brush even lower. 

“What might be difficult, pet?” 

Oh, there’s the sugar, the slow melody of vanilla and egg. He loves how his owner says what he is, he has to love it, he was told to love it and there is no love but this one, no life for him but the custard voice of the man who cuts him to ribbons until he begs for more.

The pet’s mouth opens to pant as the knife is turned, Nanda’s motions slow and controlled, and the bright light of perfect pain sparks inside him as the knife draws a line. His skin opens like silk for the blade, and he moans, dropping his head forward onto Nanda’s shoulder, listening to the sound of his laughter like a spoon cracking the crust on creme brulee. Sugar, and fire, and blood.

“That... that it’d be difficult... mmmmn, fuck-... what with y-you... being dead.”

Nanda goes silent, shifting one thigh between the pet’s legs, pressing kisses into the soft, short shorn hair with bald spots from Robert’s muzzle, humming softly in thought. His thumb rubs, ever so gently, at the pet’s nape while the knife slips a little deeper.

The pet whimpers, rocks, ruts helplessly against Nanda’s leg, turns his head enough to lock at the soft skin of Nanda’s neck the underside of his jaw. Blood trickles in a welcome hint of sensation down his side, over the flat space just inside his hip. 

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” Nanda murmurs, fingers twisting into his hair, pulling it up and back enough to see the pleasure-drunk haze in the pet’s eyes, watch him bite his lip to muffle his whimpers and moans as he rocks in an erratic rhythm against the expensive fucking tailored pants Nanda is wearing. “To leave me like that.”

“You... ah, mmmh... fuck, you left me.”

“Look at you.” Nanda’s voice is a whisper again. The knife dips, swirls lazily through his skin like an artist pulling color across canvas. It presses in just a little too deep (not deep enough) and the pet throws his head back, briefly breaking Nanda’s grip, back arching into a perfect bow as he cries out. Nanda’s hand pushes between his legs, then, too-warm and not warm enough, firm grip curving around him, stroking with the same lazy slowness that he has with the knife. “What is it like, to love the pain?”

The pet swallows, the knife digs and digs digs into soft skin along his belly, drops down to his thigh, blood wells up swift and absurdly brightly red there. 

“It’s... it’s hell,” He whispers. “I hate, ah, ah, ah-... I hate this.”

Nanda’s laugh breaks apart like a mirror, shatters into a thousand bites of sweet blood, drips over his mind like oil. If he was kneeling before, he’s on his knees again with his face pressed down against the cool concrete floor of the specialty room, legs spread, and his back is heat and blood and pain. 

Nanda’s hands are on his hips, gripped tightly enough to leave the bruises he will kiss later, as he murmurs, “We know all about coming back from the dead, here, don’t we, J-”

Jameson wakes up.

There’s no gasp, no dramatic sitting-up-in-bed like in the movies. In one moment, Nanda’s voice murmured a name he can’t remember as the pet’s body gave way to his demands and in the next his eyes are open to pitch-black darkness and the soft sound of his roommate’s breathing across the room.

The pet’s-...

Jameson’s body shudders, shivers roiling under his skin. He is hard and throbbing, and one of his hands brushes down over his ribs just to make sure his fingers don’t slip through slick blood. He breathes in through his nose, heart pounding, and looks across the room.

The barest hint of moonlight through the window gives him enough to see Allyn by. Their hair spreads light red and thick around them, the blue light of night turning it all slightly eerie and haunted. The rounded lines of their face, the soft relaxation of their mouth. He wishes Allyn would bite him hard enough to make it bleed, and then pour their rain-voice over him and tell him he’s good. He wants their hands on him. 

He wants someone’s hand on him.

He reaches under the pillow and grabs his collar, keeping his fingers over the buckle to muffle its clinking, and pulls it quickly on around his neck, choking on a sob, on his rage, on how badly he needs to be cut apart until he feels taken in ways he wants no one to ever take him again. 

The constriction is soothing. He’s safe.

He’s safe, here.

He’s so hard the slightest brush against his boxers feels like he could finish just like this, just from the memory of Nanda’s voice whispering are you ready for me, pet?

A different voice, sonorous and droning, are you ready to leave the darkness and come back into the light-

False memories. Stop. Leave me alone. He bites his lip until he feels blood break free, but it’s not enough.

Jameson pushes the blankets down - he’s pouring sweat, cold but it doesn’t make him feel any better - and sits up. His feet settle onto the cool smooth hardwood, as old as the house, and he stands, stumbling to the door. He thinks-

He thinks, water.

A drink of water.

Rub one out to the memory of a dead man, then water, and back to bed.

The bathroom door is open. The light is on. He almost stops, but he knows Nova never turns the bathroom light off if she uses it, she says it’s bad luck, he doesn’t ask but she says it anyway. Everyone thinks he fucking cares about their shit here. He doesn’t.

He just needs-

water-

touch-

to be bled by someone who tells him he is a good boy-

The big guy who owns this place is in the bathroom. Jameson stops in the doorway, staring at his back. Muscles ripple under mostly unmarked skin, the slight curve of waist and small of his back. Jameson pictures his own nails digging into the skin, the soft red welts he could leave there, lines to mark him. How Jake’s hands could leave him bruised in all the best places.

How easily he could force his legs apart or shove him up against a wall and hold him there, hands around his neck, thumbs digging into his jaw on either side. How Jake’s voice would sound when he moaned, when he buried himself inside, when the pain between them was perfect, like it had been with Nanda, like it can be again.

His heart is still pounding, thumping so loud he’s sure Jake can hear it, pouring adrenaline in his veins he tells himself is lust and not fear of how deep this runs.

He moves.

Jake’s eyes must have been closed, whatever he was doing, because he doesn’t see Jameson coming, and he jumps when his hand lays against his back, turning quickly around. He’s so tall, and strong, but there are no bruises from him on the pet’s-

on Jameson’s skin.

“Hey,” Jake says, voice low, river under rock, wearing what seems eternal slowly away. His eyes drop to the collar buckled tightly around Jameson’s neck, and he takes in a breath. There’s no surprise, there. He’s seen this before, they’ve seen so many pets, but none like me, Jameson thinks, almost desperately. Not like me. Not like this. “What do you-”

Jameson backs him into the sink and grabs his face in his hands, pulling him down, forcing their mouths together. It’s less a kiss than a challenge, and Jake makes a sound of muffled uncertainty before his hands slide up to Jameson’s shoulders, and he thinks, yes, make it hurt-

Jake shoves him back and away, holding him at arms’ length. “No.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Jameson snaps, trying to twist free of the grip, but Jake’s hands are strong. “I want you. I want this. Fuck me!” He shivers in pleasure as he pulls too hard and feels a burst of pain that goes right between his legs, his already nearly painful erection seeming to throb even harder. Being hurt hasn’t felt so good since Nanda died.

Since he walked away-

“I said no.” Jake shakes his head. There’s a stubble along his jaw, and Jameson hates Kauri suddenly for getting the redness on his skin where the stubble scratches even though Jameson never does, not anywhere, not on his inner thighs, nowhere at all. Hates how they smile at each other. Hates that Kauri doesn’t feel like this, not anymore, and Jameson can’t imagine it will never stop for him. “You know I won’t ever touch you that way.”

“I want you to!” His voice cracks, he’s desperate, and when Jake lets go, just for a second, Jameson grabs his hand and shoves it down, so Jake can feel how hard he is, rocks forward against the heat of Jake’s palm. “See? I want it. Please, fuck, please-” His eyes are wide with need, and fear - of himself and Jake and his mind and his broken betraying body. “Please, I’m good, please-”

Jake’s hand jerks back with a hiss and he moves away. “I. Will. Not. Fuck. You. Listen to me. Just talk to me for a second-... I need you take in a deep breath, I think you are reacting to a reminder of-”

“Oh, fuck off! If you won’t fuck me, get out of here so I can take care of my fucking s-self.”

God damn it, his voice is weakening, he feels like he’ll collapse under the weight of death he’s walked away from or caused by his own hand. He slumps down onto the ground, onto the bathmat next to the tub, and puts his hands over his face. 

There’s a pause, then Jake again. “Just-”

“Just fucking go!” His eyes burn bright and hot, his breath hitches. Still desire runs up through his nerves and won’t let him go. “Get out! I hate you! I should have stayed with h-him, I shouldn’t have left, I should have been good and good and good and good until, until, unt-til-”

There’s a whisper at the door, Jake’s low murmur in return. Jameson hears, tell everyone I’m handling it if they ask, stay out here. Make sure Allyn goes back to their room, just in case. 

Just in case what? In case he hurts them? In case-

He came in here so he wouldn’t. 

Oh, fuck, what if he hurts Allyn?

A pause, and then the click of the door closing. Jameson looks out from behind his fingers, only to find Jake slowly sliding down to sit with his back against the door. 

“Talk to me,” Jake says softly. “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

Jameson’s tears break free, then, burn down his cheeks like a volcano is pouring liquid fire into a city below and leaving wreckage and empty air in the shape of bodies behind. He chokes on a sob and curls up around himself, shaking his head, again and again. 

He can’t stop crying, and Jake doesn’t stop him, only waits. 

He nods.

“Okay.” Jake’s voice is low. Fresh water on his tongue, a snowmelt waterfall by the side of the road. He laughed, didn’t he? He held his hand out to feel the icy water slide through his fingers and sink into the thawing earth below.

It doesn’t snow here.

Why won’t his mind stop inventing memories that aren’t his?

“What happened in your dream? You don’t have to tell me, only if you want to.” Jake’s voice, low and calming, doesn’t stop Jameson’s tears but instead it opens him up to them, he cries the same way he bled, helpless to stop. 

“M-My-... my first-... I was w-w-with him-”

“Okay.” Jake hesitates, and then asks, softly, “Can you tell me what you were so afraid of that you put the collar on?”

Jameson doesn’t look up. He keeps crying. Eventually, though, he manages to answer.

“M-myself.”

---

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @vickytokio @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump  @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @wildfaewhump

[disorderfanfic]

-2-

She's only 18…

‘Un-fucking-believable!’ Anthony shouted and ran to me. In a blink of an eye I was in his arms, above the floor, spinning around in the Josh’s living room.

‘Hey… I’m a bit dizzy’ I said trying not to throw up.

He laughed and let me go. Gosh, how much I missed this sound. It was one of things that made you cheer up instantly. We couldn’t stop smiling while we observed each other. He really matured, but in the good way! You can say that he is the type of men, who look better when they get older. Just like wine – it gets more valuable and tastier with its age. But wait a moment…

‘Ant, really? A moustache? What the heck?’

We could hear Josh laugh from the kitchen. He stood there with a smirk on his face and crossed arms.

‘I told you the same thing’ he said looking straight at Anthony with twinkle in his hazel eyes.

‘Shush people, women loves it! And you should better look in the mirror. Nice Hello Kitty band-aid by the way’ Anthony said proudly nodding at my head. I instinctively touched my brow and looked at Josh.

‘Hello Kitty? Really?’

‘Sorry, I had nothing else.’ he smiled at me.  

‘Back to the topic. How are you? Are you alright? How you two know each other? Did you ate something? Gosh, you are so skinny! And this long hair! They are even longer than mine back days!’ he started  ranting. We sat on the couch, while Ant still asked me questions not stopping for a minute to catch a breath. This guy really had capacious lungs and impeccable diction.

‘Hey, stop with this examination. She had enough stress yesterday’ Josh said sitting next to me.

‘Alright, alright… What happened?’ Ant asked with worried look on his face.

‘Well…’ I was trying to find perfect words for telling him the story. ‘I kinda fucked up…’

‘Hey, it’s not your fault, don’t even try to blame yourself!’ Josh objected.

‘But, I should be more responsible…’

‘Can someone tell me what the hell happened?! I’m really getting worried.’ Ant raised his voice.

‘Alright…’ I exhaled the air out of my lungs and started to tell the story. With every minute Anthony got much tensed, he also started gritting his teeth so I took his hand and squeezed it trying to calm him down. Josh was by my side all the time with his hand on my back, while he tried to comfort me. After I finished, Anthony was shaking from anger.

‘This motherfucker…I’m so glad that you are okay’ He pulled me in his arms and held tightly.

‘Thankfully to Josh.’ I said drawing back, smiling to my savior. Josh blushed and started playing with the edge of his to big sweater. He really didn’t like to be in the center of attention.

‘So… Yeah… How you two know each other?’ he finally asked with nervous voice.

‘Well… She is my one and only Bambi face.’ Anthony said with a huge smile on his face. He laughed seeing my reaction to my old nickname and started to tell Josh our story.

***

‘We are going to attend the Hillers party tomorrow night.’ the pretentious voice interrupted my thoughts.  I’ve been sitting in living room and observed fire in the fireplace. My mother-in-law walked further into the room with snobby smirk on her face.

‘Jake is going to be there, I know he wants to spent some time with you’

The flashback of his face made me shiver with disgust. Jake was a player, with his golden skin, blond hair and Hollywood smile he had every girl down on her knees in a minute. But not me. He didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t impressed by his ‘perfect’ personality and look. So he took up a challenge to win my heart.

‘Unfortunately, it’s only unilateral’ I answered crossing my arms.

‘Ohh, my poor girl. Get used to it, because you might be his wife in future. We wealthy people have to stick together.’ she caressed my cheek with her spiked fake nails.

‘In your fucking dreams.’ I answered emphasizing every word and pushed her hand away from me.

‘Ohh… Little girl is getting annoyed? That’s bad cause your father already agreed to that.’ she smiled showing her white teeth. She was so happy to make me furious.

‘Fun fact! As opposed to you I’m not a gold digger’ I stood up and came close to her. Annie’s  facial expression changed immediately.

‘Don’t you dare to talk to me like that!’ she screamed in high pitch voice and slapped me. I couldn’t believe that. Oh bitch, it’s not going to end like that. I raised my hand planning the repay but I were interrupted by husky voice:

‘What the hell are you two doing?!’ my dad was standing in the door step watching us.

‘Oh darling… I couldn’t do anything! She went mad and slapped me! And I was only asking about her school. Do something!’ the embodiment of evil played her little scene and run up to my father. I crossed my arms and waited for his reaction.

‘Alexandrine, what were you thinking?! Are you mad?!’ Dad hugged Barbie tightly and checked her face. When he was done, I could see a hint of vicious smile on her lips.

‘It’s not what you think it is!’ I tried to tell but he interrupted me again.

‘Yeah? I clearly saw what happened.’

‘It’s misunderstanding. But you won’t listen to me, huh?’ I screamed raising my hands and tried to left the room.

‘Come back here, right now! What would your mother think about your behavior?!’

He went straight for the jugular. I turned around.

‘Don’t you even fucking dare recalling mum! What would she think about the way you are acting right now!? Hmm…  Let’s see.’ I took a step forward.

‘Have you know that your sweet little daughter Rosie is failing all her classes because she is too busy drinking in clubs and hooking up with random guys. Ohhh yeah you don’t mind because they all come from wealthy families. Right?’ Another step closer.

‘Well, what’s next? Do you remember when was the last time we spent some time as family? Because I do. It was a week before mum passed away, she wanted to go on beach with us and spent a normal day like we used to.’ Another step.

‘Talking about mum, she loved you unconditionally, she didn’t care about money or fame. She just wanted a happy family’ I took the last step.

‘And look at you right now. You are a fucking sugar daddy to some ugly ass gold digger who is apparently 4 years older than me. So do you think mum would be proud of you?’ I stood right in front of them with fierce look on my face.  

My father was red as tomato. In a blink of an eye, he took his hand and swiped at me. I couldn’t believe that this bitch had him whipped. And that he took her side…

‘I can clearly see that you two are worth each other.’ I said and rushed out of living room.

Hold together you can’t show your weakness. I’ve ran up the stairs to my room, took my backpack and packed things that were on hand. I’ve stopped in the doorstep and took a look at my room. I’m not gonna miss that posh, fake life. I closed the door and run out of the house into the darkness with voices screaming behind me.

***

 Tears were streaming down my face and I couldn’t see where I was going. I didn’t care to be honest. It started to rain and I was drenched to the skin. I tried to find my location, but I couldn’t recognize the neighborhood. I sat resigned on the pavement leaning on the fence. There was no one to be seen. Congratulations Alex… You have no family no money, no job and you don’t have a place to stay. Good job. I sighed and hid my face in hands. I started humming the only song that soothed the pain. I quietly sang word the most accurate words in this situation: ‘While I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me’. I sobbed when suddenly I felt a hands on my knees.

‘Hey, are you alright?’ a man squatted in front of me. At a first sight he looked menacingly with spiked hair and tattoos, but the pitch of his voice had warm, calming vibes.

‘Why would you even care?’

‘Because you are sitting right in front of my house. Are you lost?’ he asked scanning my face with his big brown eyes.

‘Lost? Well… Yes and no. I don’t know where we are, but I have nowhere to go, so guess I don’t care’ I said.

‘Aww, a little rebelled teen that has escaped from home?’ he laughed and stood up.

‘What is so funny?’ I asked looking up to his face.

‘Been there, done that. Alright Bambi face, get your ass up.’ he reached out to me.

‘Why should I trust you? You may pull me inside and kill me.’ I asked crossing my arms.

‘If you want you can sleep on the pavement sweetheart. Trust me.’ he stood still with his hand reached out to me. I sighed and took it. He helped me stand up, took my backpack and opened the gate.

‘Ladies first.’ he smiled as we went further. We walked inside the house greeted by sweet voice.

‘Baby, are you home? Ohh… Hello!’ a beautiful brunette appeared. She was tall and so skinny. She had almost black eyes which sparkled beautifully.

‘Hey darling, this is our new friend in need.. Ermm…’ he looked to me with abashed look.

‘Alexandrine’ I introduced myself laughing.

‘Yeah right! She is going to stay here for a while, alright?’

‘Sure, I’m happy to have girl company in this man cave!’ she said with smile. ‘I’m Heather and the guy right next to you is Anthony’ she crossed arms smirking.

‘Yeah… I’m going to the guys.’ he said a bit ashamed. He put down my backpack and gave Heather kiss on cheek.

‘Alright! Come one, I’ll give you towel. You are soaking wet!’ she said and took my hand.

She showed me the bathroom, where I freshened up. I took a deep breath and brushed out my red hair and washed my face. I opened backpack to look for dry clothes, but I could only find black sheer pantyhose and long grey T-shirt. After taking a big breath in and out I walked out and followed along the corridor to find a source of voices and music sound.

I looked into the room soaked in light from fireplace and candles. Anthony was sitting on armchair with Heather on his knees. She was hugging him and talking with other guy, who smiled all the time showing his gap between teeth. Opposite there was a huge couch where two another man were sitting. One had baseball hat on his head and smoked cigarette and another one with long, dark hair and beard played on guitar. It was such a calming view.

I took a step closer playing shyly with the edge of my T-shirt.

‘Guys, this is Alex. She is going to sleep here tonight’ Heather smiled to cheer me up and patted a free space to sit next to her.

‘So Bambi face, this is Flea’ Anthony said nodding at guy with his wonderful, wide, crooked smile.

‘Pleasure to meet you, madame!’ he bowed slightly making me laugh.

‘This gorilla smoker up there is Chad.’ Chad exhaled the smoke and waved to me. I waved back.

‘And the last but not least, our own Jesus: John’ the guy with guitar smiled and resumed playing on guitar. I sat on chair next to Heather and played with my fingers nervously.

‘So know that we know each other, we would love to hear more about you.’

‘I really like having my privacy, you know? Just ask questions and I’ll see if I’m okay with answering.’ I said after a minute of contemplating.

‘That was a very interesting song choice down there on street.’ Anthony said smiling.

I blushed and froze a little. I thought he didn’t hear me.

‘We need an update to the story!’ Flea said with his energetic voice and started jumping on his butt like impatient kid.

‘Yeah, tell us what happened.’ Chad said with his raspy voice.

‘May I?’ Anthony asked and after I nodded he said ‘I found this kiddo sitting on pavement, hugging he own knees and singing ‘Dream A Little Dream Of Me’’ Anthony said crossing arms with smirk on his face.

‘Hmm… Personally, I’d choose ‘Singing in the rain’’ John said quietly and everybody started laughing.

‘Alright, before you start to think that I’m a weirdo. My mum always sang me this song as lullaby when I was little. She said that it is her happy song. My parents fell in love while dancing to it.’ I unconsciously smiled recollecting the look of  Mums face: her beautiful wide smile, green, sparkling eyes and freckles all over her skin. ‘She was so beautiful.’ I mumbled.

‘Awwwwww.’

‘I already like you and I love Louis Armstrong!’ Flea said excited.

‘But why did you use past tense?’ Chad asked carefully.

I crossed my arms and hugged myself.

‘Well.. She died when I was 11. Brain tumor.’ I said quietly. I felt warm hand on my back making circles. Heather tried to cheer me up. I looked up to see everyone with sad faces.

‘That’s one of the reasons I run away. My dad didn’t care about me and my sister at all. All he wanted was money and girls. I guess that was his way to face up with death.  So, since I was 12 I had 7 “mummies”. The last one, Annie was 22, so 4 years older than me right now… She used to hit me, but today she was busted by my father. Of course she played a scene that I slapped her, and he believed her...’

Everyone eyes were focused on me. I exhaled the air and said:

‘So you don’t need to worry about me being a murderer or rapist. I’m just fucked up girl who has nowhere to go.’ I said sarcastically and smiled to them. ‘ Don’t worry I will figure something out!’

‘Don’t you even fucking try.’ Anthony said slowly with watery eyes. ‘I can’t believe what I would do if my mum was dead. You can stay here for as long you want. Right?’

‘Yeah’

‘Of course!’

‘Ahhh come here!’ Flea said standing up quickly and hugged me from behind. ‘We won’t let you suffer anymore Bambi.’

***

‘This evening we ended up dead drunk. So our lovely Alex stayed with us for a few months in Mansion. You remember it? We were recording Stadium Arcadium there’ Anthony finished the story and took a sip of water.

‘Yeah, of course.’ Josh answered ‘I couldn’t be with you there cause I was touring with Gnarles Barkley.’ Josh answered.

‘Oh shut up! I never knew that you had another singer/guitarist in band!’ I said excited.

‘You never wanted to come to studio with us so here you are: Josh Klinghoffer, the second guitarist of Red Hot Chili Peppers.’ Anthony said nodding at Josh. He blushed and smiled with his characteristic smile.

‘No way! How could this happen?’ I still couldn’t believe that. ‘We could have met anytime past this 3 years and we never did.’

‘I guess our meeting is a destiny.’ He smiled and reached his hand to play with his hair.

I blushed and smiled back to him. I felt butterflies in my stomach and I couldn’t do nothing to not feel so attracted to him.

‘Can you believe that she didn’t know who we were? But that is a story for another occasion’ Anthony stood up.

‘Alright Bambi face, pack your things I will drive you to your place on my way.’ Anthony said stretching out his back.

I froze.

‘Well about that…’