Love me or love me not

Grandma || 30

I groan, pushing away the leg that is on me. What the fuck?

I lift my head up with half closed eyes to see chaos, absolute chaos.
The sofas had been moved back and the five of us were all laying on the floor without any shirts. There were red cups everywhere and my stomach was sticky with some dried up liquid.

I quickly sit up, almost tumbling over when a rush of dizziness hits me. I place a hand on my head as if it will cure the upcoming headache. What the hell even happened last night?

All I remember is drinking a few drinks and dancing with Kai, I don't remember taking our shirts off or spilling anything on myself. I sigh, looking at everyone's limp bodies.

Kai had his head on William's chest with William's hand on Kai's head. Olivia was laying sideways with her legs over both William and Kai. My eyes look for Ashton to see him sitting with his back leaning against the sofa.

I crawl towards him, shaking his bare shoulder as soon as I'm knelt next to him. Holy- I should have him take his shirt off more often.

"Ashton." I whisper, careful not to wake up the others. I shake his shoulder again. "Wake up, my head hurts."

He begins to stir, shoving my hand off him.

"My head hurts." I try again only to get a grunt out of him.

"Sounds like a you problem." He grumbles.

"You got me drunk—" My speech is cut off when Ashton suddenly places his hand over my mouth.

"Shh, go back to sleep." He whispers, grabbing onto my wrist and pulling me onto him. I straddle his lap, looking down at his abs. Hypnotised, I raise a finger and trail the creases on his stomach. He really needs to get a tattoo.

My gaze meets his when he grips onto my finger.

"You've got a serious fucking problem." He mumbles as my mouth opens in offence.

"Excuse me! I'll have you know that I am completely normal—" a squeal of surprise escapes my throat when Ashton squeezes my breast, playing with it as if it's a toy.

I immediately push his hand off before he has me feeling a tingly way.

"Ashton! You can't just touch me like that." I scold as he throws his head back, chuckling.

"Why do you wear a bra if you don't have any tits." A gasp leaves my mouth as a smirk grows on his face.

"I do have tits." I whisper the last word as if it's a crime to say it. I lift my hands up to cover my chest from his view. "Why are you so rude?" I ask. My head is killing me but you don't see me insulting everyone I see.

"I'm not rude, I'm drunk." He smiles, swaying his head side to side.

My brows furrow as I cup his face with my hands to keep his head still. "What do you mean you're drunk?" I ask.

"I had a couple drinks when I woke up." He slurs.

"And by 'a couple', how many are we talking about?" I ask to which he responds by lifting two fingers.

"Three cups and a whole bottle." He laughs, bringing his finger to my chest again to poke my breast. I slap his hand away.

"No touching." I say and he shakes his head.

"No, it's fun and squishy to play with."

"You always tease me for not having anything—" I stop talking when he places a finger to my lips, shushing me.

"You do have something...just not as much." He shrugs.

"That doesn't make me feel any better." I say as he trails the outline of my lips with his fingers.