Hold On To Love || Kirk Hammett

Part 9- Gift Of Love

You got the gift of love
Shining down on me

"That's not going to work," Ronnie argued, pushing the contract to the other side of the table.

I groaned in annoyance, the back of my head hitting the booth. I brought my joint to my lips, inhaling as much smoke as I could to ease my nerves. I closed my eyes, dreaming of my bed, curled up in a soft blanket.

And far away from Ronnie's persistent arguments.

It was finally the time of the season for discussing the more intricate parts of the tour. Tour dates, living conditions and last but not least pay.

We were all skeptical of Kirk randomly dropping the ball on us, and praying that it wasn't an excuse to skimp out on pay. But as usual, there was a spin on it, and we planned on extorting as much money as we could from the four boys.

And with them coked up and ten beers down, it was going extremely easy. All until the little Danish twat came along to screw everything up.

I shot my gaze to Kirk, who didn't look any more interested than I was. His face in his palms and a bottle in his hands, I knew he was wishing he was anywhere else but here.

Cliff nudged his side, whispering something in his ear, and suddenly I'm admiring the fleck of dust on my shoe, blushing through my skull.

I have got to stop staring at this man, god only knows what must be going through his mind.

I felt a hand brush my leg, and my thoughts turned to ice. My eyes immediately darted to Kirk, who was looking at me with a smug smile on his face, with the strands of hair falling down onto his face.

Never before had a man made me blush so incessantly before. With every look, with every smile. God, this man had found a way to turn my cheeks pink with a single word.

What is going on with me? He shouldn't be able to do this, he shouldn't be rendering me speechless with a single touch.

I looked around, taking my spoon and throwing it onto the floor. Thankfully, the center of attention was on Ronnie and Duncan fighting with Lars instead of Kirk feeling me up.

I blew him a kiss before I snuck under the table. I didn't know what I was expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. I was desperately trying to avoid getting kicked by James's beat up shoes, while crawling my way over to Kirk.

The things that I find myself doing for this man.

I kissed his inner thigh, causing his leg to jolt up and hit the table. I heard a faint murmur of apology, before his hand flew to my head.

"What the fuck, Kirk?"

I felt a something hard hit my head, following a loud clang of a fork landing beside me.

Kirk followed my underneath the table, followed by a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," He whispered, "I didn't mean to."

I laughed, shaking my head, "It's okay."

He beckoned me closer and I ploughed into the warmth of his open arms. I hummed in satisfaction as he chuckled, pressing his soft lips to the sore spot on my head.

My heart was skipping beats, and with each passing second, I'm losing myself in him. I'm drowning in his scent, the feeling of his arms wrapped around my body.

"How are you so perfect?" He whispered, "How are you...real?"

I was a block of butter on a hot plate. I was as red as a rose in a garden of thorns.