||[May. 20th, 2007|03:11 pm]
Author: purpleelephant over at the Team Talk boards
Author Notes/Comments: I didn't write this, but the author has graciously given me permission to post this here, as I am in love with this story, and believe you all will be as well. Italicized parts will be in the past, normal fonts will be the present. Leave comments and let her know what you think of the story! I'm sure she'd love to read them!
This story was inspired by the song Delicate by Damien Rice
CHAPTER THREE – “We might make out when nobody's there…”
* * *
I stare at my own reflection, analyzing every ounce of effort I put into my appearance. I must have been stupid to think that something would have happened tonight. But I thought he wanted me here, I thought that things were possibly progressing between us and now I feel like they’ve come to a complete halt. So why is he acting this way?
I’m stood here, locked in Dougie’s band mate’s bathroom. It’s been a week since that fateful night, since Dougie went beyond flirting and crashed his lips to mine. It was amazing, to say the least, but it’s been nothing since. Oh, there has been the same innocent flirting, the playful banter as we pass each other on the porch, but nothing else. No more advances, no touching, let alone kissing. There has been no mention of that kiss either, like it never happened, yet somehow I can’t seem to forget it. So why am I here?
Last night, one of Dougie’s band mates invited me to their house warming barbecue, to come and get to know my new neighbours. But it was Harry, his band mate, that invited me, not Dougie himself. He was there while the invitation took place, and I shot him a look, kind of hoping that he would say or do something to show that HE wanted me there. But he didn’t really do anything, except wink my way and give me a lop-sided grin. So being the girl I am, I took that as a ‘yes, I want you to be there’. And now, I am here, standing in the bathroom wondering what the hell went wrong.
When I arrived, I was introduced to each member of his band; the drummer and the two guitarists. They are hilarious guys, and I feel that we got along alright. But was I naïve to think that Dougie would spend most of the evening with me? Not WITH me, but alongside me, or at least talking to me. But if that were the case, would I be standing here alone in the bathroom, while the party raged on out there?
For the whole evening I have talked to everyone here except Dougie. It’s like he’s avoiding me; like he’s purposely going out of his way so he has nothing to do with me. I will find myself kind of forgetting about him, getting into a conversation with someone I’ve just met and then I feel this stare burn into me. When I look up, he’s watching me from across the room. It’s a weird look in his eyes; a mixture of determination, confusion and excitement. What the hell is going on with him? He shouldn’t be standing there and staring at me; he can just come over and talk to me. As pathetic as it may sound, I’m waiting for him to do so.
But after almost 4 hours of pointless chatter with random people, a few beers, and enough staring that could make anyone uncomfortable, I had to excuse myself from the mass of people and make my escape. I would have just left and gone home, but as I was making my way to the door, I was stopped by the drummer, Harry, and told that I couldn’t leave just yet. Well at least someone noticed I was here and didn’t want me to leave; it’s ironic that it’s not the person I want it to be. So I lied and said that I was only going to the bathroom.
And here I am, in this bloody bathroom trying to gather my thoughts. I go through everything that took place tonight and try to see what I’m missing. I tell myself to get a grip, that I’m just being a stupid girl and over analyzing things. I had too much hope for this evening; that was my first mistake. So, the kiss was a one off, and now I have to come to terms with the fact that Dougie and I are only neighbours, that is it. I guess that’s ok, he’s still very nice to look at; VERY nice to look at.
I smooth down my t-shirt, brush back my hair and take a deep breath. Time to re-emerge from my little oasis and just face the masses; whether Dougie acknowledges me or not.
I step out of the bathroom and the pounding of the bass hits me immediately, like a wave of sound that starts to rattle in my chest. I pull the door behind me and am just about to close it when I feel a force push me back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I let out a small squeal and am shushed, a hand being placed over my mouth.
“What the hell…?” I start to panic.
I’m silenced by a pair of lips crashing onto mine, muffling my voice as I try to talk, pushing me roughly into the door, pressing into me. I recognize the lips, the feel of the kiss that I have experienced before, and almost immediately a soft sigh leaves my mouth and I give into the kiss. One hand of his cups the back of my neck and pulls my head from the door roughly, the other running down my side and leaving a blazing trail of fire along my skin through the fabric. His mouth stirs softly, yet savagely at the same time, moving in synchronized motion with my own. His tongue runs hurriedly along my bottom lip and I let out another moan, the sensation shaking through me.
He pulls away slowly, the skin of his lips lingering on mine; hovering there ever so slightly while we both inhale frantically to steady our breathing.
“Dougie,” I whisper, his hand moving from the back of my neck and gently brushing my hair from my face, it resting on my shoulder.
“You look amazing tonight,” he mumbles into the skin of my neck, planting slow kisses in a trail across the length and then pulling away to look at me.
He’s sweet, the way he’s holding me, making me almost forget about how he ignored me all evening. I look at his face, and even though it’s dark in the small room, I can make out the faint outline of each feature of his face; a sly sparkle making an appearance in his eyes. I want to smile and just push into him again and continue into the kiss we were sharing, but my common sense returns and I remember how hurt I was a moment ago.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask cheekily yet sternly, leaning my head against the door as he drops his hand from my shoulder, fiddling with the waist of my jeans.
“Do you need me to explain?” he asks, and I can see his eyebrows raise at his smug comment. “I would rather show you.”
He goes to lean into me again, but I just put my hand on his chest and firmly push back, keeping him a distance away from me.
“What?” he asks as he pulls away to look at me.
“You can’t just go kissing me whenever you feel like it,” I protest.
“Why, didn’t you enjoy that?” he asks smugly, a low laugh leaving his mouth.
“Yeah,” I answer before I can stop myself, instantly regretting the fact that now he knows just how much I did in fact enjoy that.
I’m thankful for the darkness in the room, it potentially masking my embarrassment and the slight pink hue that has taken residence in my cheeks. We continue to stare at each other and we remain locked in our hold, my hands resting on the door by my sides, while his hands rest on my hips, his thumbs stroking the exposed skin from where my shirt rode up.
“Good, I enjoyed that too,” he says, before leaning in again and meeting my lips.
I can’t stop him even if I try, he’s determined and it makes this whole situation even hotter, my skin now tingling all over from the feel of his kiss. I exhale deeply into the kiss and I can feel his lips turn up into a grin, him now smiling into the kiss.
“Dougie,” I mumble into his lips, placing my hands on his chest again and pushing him from me, breaking the kiss once more.
“What?” he asks, smiling at me but with a hint of annoyance in his voice; this is the second time I’ve stopped him from kissing me.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask, wanting to know what he’s doing; what this whole thing is.
“Well, I was kissing you until you decided to push me away,” he says between soft pecks, planting a fresh one on a new patch of skin each time; my nose, my cheek, my neck, the corner of my lips.
I’m smiling, I know I am, but I should be angry. This boy just ignored me for the entire evening and now he’s not even apologetic for it. He’s cocky about it, completely at ease at using me; that’s all I can describe it as, why would he act this way if he wasn’t using me?
“So, do you make it a habit to go around kissing people in dark bathrooms after ignoring them the entire evening?” I say, my voice still a whisper to not let the outside people hear our conversation.
“I wasn’t ignoring you,” he sighs, his head dropping, but his hands still remaining on my hips.
“Well if not talking, approaching, or even acknowledging the presence of a person isn’t ignoring, then I really don’t know what is,” I whisper a little more hoarsely, taking his hands in mine and dropping them from my waist.
I step away from him and reach for the light switch, illuminating the small room and finally seeing his face properly. There is a hint of regret in his eyes, almost like he feels bad for ignoring me; but it’s so miniscule that you would need a magnifying glass to really see it.
“I was busy getting to know everyone else, the other neighbours,” he defends, a weak attempt at an excuse.
“HA!” I exclaim rather loudly, completely rejecting his pathetic response.
I am slightly angry now, just so unbelievably confused as to what exactly is going on. I lean against the counter with my arms crossed forcibly across my chest, staring at him, waiting for him to say something remotely comprehendible to explain his stupid actions.
“I was, and since I already know you, it’s only polite,” he says, slightly emphasizing the word ‘know’. The cheeky bastard.
“Don’t feed me that Dougie,” I continue to whisper, almost hissing at him, “you could have at least said hi.”
Silence. He doesn’t say anything. Great, now this thing, whatever the hell it was or wasn’t, between us is permanently ruined and forever awkward. I just want to push past him and storm out the door and escape back to my place, away from him.
He continues to remain silent, but he moves forward and steps towards me. My arms remain firmly crossed and I lock my gaze to his. I am not wavering, what he did was ridiculous.
“Hi,” he exhales, his chest now pressed against my crossed arms.
“I’m just saying hi.”
He reaches up and pulls down my arms and they drop to my side. I exhale loudly and continue to look at him, but I know that my expression is softening. Damn it, this boy that I have known for a total of about a month has something over me. Although the prospect seems exciting, I am nervous and I just can’t shake that feeling.
“It’s almost as if you don’t want anyone to know that you kissed me or that we have been flirting, or that you like me,” I say, dropping my head at the end as I start to ramble on a bit.
“And who said that I like you,” he questions, my head shooting up immediately at his comment.
I push him abruptly from me, the embarrassment now coursing through every fibre of my being. Oh God, why do I say the things I do? He laughs loudly and grasps tightly onto my forearms, pulling me into him as he stumbles back slightly.
“Dougie, just stop.”
His grip loosens around my arms and they slip through his fingers, catching as our hands meet, dropping down heavily into the space between us. His fingers lazily hold mine, only by the fingertips and my head drops, focusing on our touching fingers.
“I like you,” he whispers.
My head moves up slowly but my eyes don’t budge from their spot, my gaze still locked on our hands.
“You don’t have to say that, don’t patronize me,” I return, my voice now even lower than his.
He leans forward and gently presses his mouth to my forehead, his lips lingering as I feel his breath gently sweep down my face. My eyes close at the sweet gesture. A kiss on the forehead lacks passion, lacks lust; it is a pure and simple act. At this moment, the small peck to the forehead makes me forget how angry I was at him, and I melt.
“I’m not patronizing. Can’t we just see how this goes before everyone starts to interfere?” he asks, my eyes finally opening and looking up at him.
“Fine? Try not to sound too enthusiastic,” he jokes, a frail smile cracking my lips.
“Yeah ok,” I repeat, looking down at our hands still clasped.
“Plus it’s hotter sneaking around,” he whispers into my ear, his mouth now pressed to the side of my face.
“Hotter, maybe. But you wouldn’t happen to be ashamed of me now would you?” I ask, not knowing how I feel about him wanting to keep me, this, a secret.
“Jac, it’s always so complicated. Friends, family, the public. So we sneak around for a bit, no harm in that now is there?” he asks, his eyebrows raising at the end in anticipation for my response.
I don’t know what to say. My mind is screaming ‘NO!’, that this is a terrible idea and a complete recipe for disaster, but my body refuses to express it. My body is ignoring my logic and just wants to plunge into this head first. So as my body wishes, I do. I accept.
“Ok, we keep it quiet,” I answer, being met by a sly smirk on Dougie’s face.
He leans forward and attaches his lips firmly to mine, taking my arms and wrapping them around his waist as our lips move in a synchronized fashion. I can feel him exhale deeply and I step forward, our stomachs and chests in contact as his own arms wrap around my middle and pull me forward.
“I’ve had enough of this party,” he mumbles into my lips.
“Is that so?” I ask as he steps away from me and towards the door.
He opens it slowly and sticks his head out, shifting from side to side.
“Coast is clear,” he whispers and gives me a sly wink.
“Clear for what?” I ask.
“Let’s go back to your place,” he growls, grabbing my hand and squeezing it firmly in his hold.
Before I can say another word, I am being pulled out of the small room and down the hallway towards the front door. The rest of the people from the party remain in the backyard, completely oblivious to two missing members. As the party rages on, two doors down Dougie and I escape and begin our sneaking around.