Another Saturday Night-Taron Egerton (unedited)

Chapter Six

"Have I...umm, have I what, sorry? I don't know if I heard that."

Your mouth ran drier than the Sahara desert as you took a long, trembling breath with your wine glass shaking in your hands as you watched Taron's eyes. They didn't so much as flicker as he watched you in the same way that you were watching him. He licked his bottom lip into his mouth and gulped before parting them again and breathing heavily.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we....kissed?" He repeated his previous question, his eyes still not shifting as he waited for your response.

You knew that you'd heard what he'd asked but you needed to be sure to make sure that you weren't hearing things. Taron's eyes burned a hole in your head and even though he was growing impatient, he stayed quiet while you came up with a response. A response that you were taking forever to give to him. But you didn't know how to reply. You could either tell him the truth or you could lie to him, but neither of those really sounded like a good option.

"I ummm...I haven't," you finally spoke up after the longest few seconds of your life. "I haven't-I haven't thought about it."

Taron nodded, dropping his hand from where it still held your chin and looked down at your legs that were covered by a blanket. He ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his wine glass while trying to keep his gaze away from you. You still watched him though, your eyes burning a hole in the side of his head as you barely blinked.

"I-huh, I-I see," he stuttered, not quite sure how to respond to you. But yet, he still wouldn't look you in the eye. "Well just forget I ever said anything."

"Taron I-" you try to explain but just as he had days prior, he shook you off, lifting his wine to his lips in an ever failing attempt to ignore what he was hearing.

He sighed, "It's fine. I get it, you haven't thought about it. That's cool."

It was your turn to sigh then and you swung your legs away from him so that you could sit in a curled position at the end of the sofa, the blanket falling to the floor as you did. Things had become so incredibly awkward all of a sudden, almost as though they'd gone back to the way they were when you weren't good. The air became thick as you breathed heavily, lifting your wine glass to your lips to take a long swig before placing it back against your legs again.

Taron lifted his glass back up to his lips and tipped it back, swallowing the rest of his wine down in one. You watched him as he did it, trying not to roll your eyes at him when he stood up and took a deep breath. "I need more wine," he huffed, padding through to the kitchen ignoring your pleas for him to listen.

"Taron..." You tried again, watching the muscles on his back as he walked away from you.

"I said...it's fine," he exasperated. "We don't need to talk about it, alright?"

You stayed in your place for a little longer, sitting in silence as you spun your wine glass between your thumb and forefinger. But you wanted to follow him. Hell, you needed to follow him. So you followed him through the living room to the kitchen that was only lit by the under-cupboard lights.

Taron stood with his back to you, a fresh bottle of wine in his left hand and his right hand gripping it to open. You could see the strain of his biceps as he twisted at the cap, his forearm tensing as he held the bottle tightly. At first, you stood and watched him. He continued to try and open the bottle but in the end gave up, dropping his right hand and taking a deep breath.

"I lied," you spoke up, watching his back tense as he took another deep breath.

"What?" He asked cautiously, turning around to face you with the bottle still in his hand. It was the Marsanne that you'd bought the week before. The last bottle of it that you had in the flat. And he was willing to drink it when he was pissed, which kinda annoyed you. "How did you lie?"