Forbidden - Pedro Pascal

Chapter 8: "can i kiss you?"

Oscar leant over Pedro's shoulder.

"Hey Lily, Pedrito has something to tell y-"

"AAHhh, no I don't," Pedro laughed a little too loudly, displaying an overly cheesy grin until his eyes disappeared into his smile. Enya glanced at me, hiding her smirk by taking another drag of her cigarette.

"Talking about us, ladies?" Pedro enquired, his eyebrows raised in an attempt to change the subject.

We giggled, denying all allegations of gossiping, and they dragged us inside to dance.

For what felt like an hour we span round, jokingly switching partners to me and Oscar, and Enya with Pedro. The strong warmth of Pedro's hands squeezed my waist and he spun me round to face him, his face little shiny in the humid air of the club. We danced closer, cheek to cheek, my arms resting on his muscled shoulders.

"Can I kiss you?" He leant back to look at me, sliding his fingers onto my jawline. It was loud under the buzz of the music, but the question rang in my ears, as clear as day.

Before I even finished nodding his lips were on mine, still swaying as we moved in time to the music. I thought I heard a few drunken cheers, but all felt muffled in the outside world right in that moment, and I twisted my fingers through the curls at the back of his head, kissing back harder.

The flash of a phone camera caused me to flinch a little, but when we eventually broke apart, I couldn't see anyone staring and instantly relaxed again.

We danced until the lights turned on and the crowd spilled out onto the busy street.

Joining us as we staggered around dancing on the cobblestones outside the club were Oscar and Enya, Sarah Paulson, Orion, Saoirse, Lily, Florence, Timothée and a few mutual friends. They cheered to the beat of our drunken dancing as we whirled around faster and faster. Pedro stopped, pulling me in by the hips into a long kiss, evoking even louder cheers from our friends.

"Shit, the car can't even get close to this street guys, there's too many taxis," Timothée muttered, tapping aggressively on his phone.

"That's ok, we can just wait for a normal cab," Pedro replied, wrapping his arms around me in the cold dark of the night. I sat between his legs on the curb and and I checked my phone; it was 2am and sky was fading to a lighter blue. I could feel people start to crane their necks, and heard the mutters of a few of our names.

With louder grumbles of conversation and the pattering of quickened footsteps, a huge group with cameras came jogging round the corner. Before we had anywhere to hide, the harsh flashes of their cameras lit up the pavement.

"Oh shit, we gotta go," muttered Pedro, protectively hovering his arm behind me as we ushered ourselves into the nearest available cab while the Paparazzi attempted to shout questions.

As we all clambered into two cabs I felt myself drifting off, whoozy with drink and the earliness of the morning. Enya and Saoirse chattered endlessly, still full of energy. Pedro joined in politely, but chuckled at me under his breath every time my head nodded and I woke again. He scooted closer to me, my head falling onto his shoulder to sleep the rest of the way to Oscar's penthouse with his warm leather jacket over my shoulders.