"I Won't Mind"

#3. Touch The Sky ⚤

Liam

I found myself being mesmerized by the hazel eyes and long lashes staring from above me. My eyes left her eyes and traced the soft look of her face and profound lips that were covered in gloss. I'd never seen her before. And I couldn't tear my gaze away... She was absolutely beautiful. Staring back, her breathing was fast and she had a scared look in her eyes.
"Brooke!" A sharp voice snapped us out of our trance with each other. She scrambled off of me and turned to a very heated Damon. "What the fuck, man?! Tryna take my girl??" Of course she was his. Dick. "No, no! Damon, it was an accident! I was-" "That's not what it looked like, Brooke! You were on top of him, and it didn't look like you were in any hurry to get off. I didn't like where his hands were, either." He gave me a look, his eyes dark. I cleared my throat and stood up, straightening out my shirt. "Um, it really was an accident. It was my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going." Damon still didn't look convinced, and still eyed me warily. I tore my gaze away and mumbled "sorry" to his girl, Brooke? I thought that was right, and started to walk away when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around. "Touch my girl one more time, I swear to God I'll murder you. Mind your own territory. Got it?" I just gave him a look, not saying anything before walking away and out the door. I was done here.

-

The door slammed open and something heavy landed on my bed, startling out of my slumber. "Liammmm, wake uuuuuup..." The overwhelming smell of alcohol washed over me in waves. "Fuck, Niall ! What the fuck do you want ?!" "Where'd ya go, mate? I missed youuuu!!" Arms came around my body and he tried squeeze me. I was pissed. "Fuck off, ya twat !" I threw him off of me, allowing my anger to come out in the movement. I was trying to sleep, for God's sake.
"Well you're a dick." I heard him mumble from the ground. Rolling my eyes, I groaned. "I'm sorry, ok? I'm just not in the mood for your drunk as fuck ass right now." "You're not making it better." Fuck him.
"Yeah, whatever. I'm going back to sleep." I grumpily shifted my body to try and get comfortable again. Niall was such a little shit, it was so annoying sometimes. I loved the kid to death, but he really needed to learn when to back off.
As I tried to go back to sleep my mind kept drifting to the girl at the party and it was driving me insane because I could not remember what Damon had called her. I tossed and turned, getting so fucking annoyed at that fact, plus the fact that it was keeping me from sleeping. Why? Why? Ugh, it literally made no sense whatsoever.
After what seemed like hours of complete and utter torture I decided to just get out of bed. 'Cause why the hell not?
Grabbing a bag of crisps from the cabinet in the kitchen I went out to the patio that led off from our flat. The view was amazing; you could see the whole campus from there. I absolutely loved it.
I sat down in my chair and looked across the way at the place beneath me, my mind still darting back to her. Why her?! We didn't even talk. Fuck, I didn't even know if she went to our school. Or where she's from. All I knew was that I kept replaying our crash and the way she was laying on top of me, a scared look in her eyes. And I really wanted to know why Damon had such a protective attitude about her. He treated her like she was some...slave or something. She was fucking beautiful, though. Damn. Maybe that's why, because he knows she'd have a lot of fuck ups trying to get with her. But I felt like there was more to it... And I really wanted to know every single detail.

-

I hated the weekends, but then I loved them at the same time. It was like it gave you a break from your hell of a life, but it was way too short to actually be worth doing something productive. That's why I wasted my time doing shit that wasn't productive... Well, what most would consider being productive, like cleaning the flat, washing the dishes, doing the laundry, studying for my few (and very hard) classes, etc. My kind of productive was doing shit I thoroughly enjoyed. Partying, clubbing, drinking, smoking, sex, shit like that. That's what I usually used my weekends for, and then come Sunday I'd be panicking because I didn't actually do anything productive.
Fuck Sunday's, man.
Here I was, yet again, Sunday night laying on my bed listening to Niall James Horan singing in the shower while I contemplated wether I wanted to go out and skip my class tomorrow or actually do something good for once, like study, sleep, and go to class tomorrow morning?
I bit my lip hard, and right as Niall shut off the water I made my decision.
I'm going out.