ROSES (Oli Sykes Fan Fiction) COMPLETE

ALONE, TOGETHER

Oli wasn't kidding when he said his hotel was a 2 minute walk away, we only crossed one road after leaving the bar before we were at the Four Seasons and heading for the elevators. It's funny how fresh air and the motion of standing up and walking makes you feel much more drunk. I actually groaned as I felt it hitting me. "You know, you're hilarious when you're drunk." he said with a laugh.
"I'm not even drunk, Oliver." I replied with an eye roll while he just laughed at me more.

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[OLI]

Looooollllll... yeah, and I'm a fucking virgin.

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His hotel room was gorgeous; it had an almost industrial-kind of colour palette, huge windows that looked over the city, a long couch built into the window and the softest, fluffiest looking bed I'd ever seen. Maybe that was just so appealing because I was so tired. I think the fresh air and walking had actually made it hit me even more. 

Oli placed all of my gifts on the desk so I followed suit with the couple of smaller things he had actually let me carry. "That is one hell of a view." I said as I looked out the window into the streets below.
"Yeah it's a nice hotel." he said. It felt strange to be in a hotel room with him again, it actually felt kind of awkward because it brought back so many memories. I'd been in so many with him, but every time we were there for one thing and one thing only, at least on his part. I hoped he didn't have an ulterior motive for me being there this time... I didn't feel that way, but hotel rooms and Oli always used to equal sex. That's what I was to him. "Willow, I'm just going to the bathroom and then I'll take you to the club, OK?" he asked. I just nodded.

As I looked around the room, I realised he must have barely even been in there prior to coming to the bar. His suitcase was on the rack and there were crumpled clothes next to it, but that was it. He hadn't touched or moved anything in the room yet, it didn't even look like he'd sat on the bed because the doona was so perfectly smooth. I sat on the edge of the bed facing the window then fell back into it and I thought about all times I'd done that; on tour with him here in America and also in Mexico. They weren't bad memories, but some were better than others. I closed my eyes and let the fluffy doona engulf me, it was so soft and comforting.

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[OLI - returning from the bathroom]

"Alright, so where am I taking you?" I asked as I entered back into the room. 

Oh. 

I stopped as I saw Willow fast asleep on the bed, laying on her back as if she'd passed out and fallen backward after sitting there. "Willow?" I asked just to check. No reply. Poor Willow... she must be so fucking exhausted. I mean, she'd told Cassidy and her friends that already, but they pressured her into going out... I felt sorry for her.

Jesus, what was I going to do with her? Cassidy was no doubt going to start freaking out if Willow didn't turn up at the club after half an hour, but do you think I had her phone number? Of course not. Shit. I took Willow's phone from her purse hoping I could call Cassidy from there but it was pin code protected, so that plan wasn't going to work. Ugh, I didn't even know what club her friends had gone to! The only option was to wake her up, but God she looked so peaceful and happy. I really didn't want to steal sleep from her, but I didn't really have a choice. I guess I'd give her ten minutes to rest then wake her. 

I sat by the window just looking at her laying there, completely still and lifeless other than the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She looked absolutely perfect, but she always did. She'd been in my hotel room so many times, but the way I felt about her then was very different to how I felt about her now. I respected her now, I cared about her in a totally different way. She had been through hell, I had put her through hell, but she was still kind, sweet, caring, thoughtful... all the things I'd always admired about her. I felt so guilty for everything that happened, I really did. I could only think about Mexico and I hated that I started thinking about the other times she was on my bed in various hotels. I couldn't stop myself from flashing back to how fucking good the sex with her always was, how worked up she could get me, how lost in each other we always were, how to be completely honest, I wanted to have that again. I respected her, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about sleeping with her again. Particularly tonight since she looked so fucking sexy in her little skin-tight dress, and I already knew she looked better underneath it... I shouldn't have been having those thoughts or remembering our intimate moments though. It felt wrong. I guess it wouldn't be the same now anyway, things were too different. We were both too different.