amsterdam ( central cee )

21

"I need to study..." I say in his hair. The grip around my waist tightens.

"Just a minute," he groans in my tits. "Where's this motivation to study commin from anyways?"

"I need to pass the test to get into the University of Amsterdam. I told you this, they're making a selection for who to get in." I reexplain. "They're.. only letting in a certain amount of people. I've told you this."

Cench huffs and rolls off of me. "I say this, I go study and you go walk Lilo."

"I ain't walking that damn dog." He protests while propping himself on his elbows.

"Why not? Because then I can get some studying in before dinner," I say swinging my legs over the edge of my end. Cold air flows over my heated skin and I sit for a few heartbeats, enjoying the flow.

"Whatever." He grumbles.

The heat of our... passion had subsided and the reality of what just happened fell onto me. I just fucked in my childhood room. I look around my poster-littered pink walls and smile in nostalgia while redressing myself. Oakley follows, standing up for his boxers.

"Mom left my room the exact same since I left," I say walking up to my dresser to admire all the ridiculous things 14-year-old Hanne had collected.

"Uhu," Oakley agrees. "You do have interesting music taste, innit? What's up with all these posters? Your music taste is confusing" He asks, looking at the Justin Bieber poster on the wall and then at the printed-out Arctic Monkeys album cover.

"I was a girl with good taste— correction, I am a girl with good taste." I click my radio open and swift through the stack of CDs.  Fearless by Taylor Swift.
I smirk and click the cover open, pressing out the disk and placing it into the radio.  "Just like this fucking jam. Taylor Swift is a goddess, sir. You don't know real music, Oakley."

"That's debatable," I hear him grumble behind me while putting on his clothes. I smile mischievously while I skip through the songs until I  get to my favorite one.

"Trust me. I'm an artist and a performer. I used to give so many concerts in this little room of mine," I say over the sound of You Belong With Me.  "I know what I'm talking about.
Cench laughs, as I grab my forgotten Wii remote and strap it around my wrist to use as a mic. I begin singing along to the chorus, white girl swing my hair as I do so.

Oakley bursts out laughing, making my heart flutter. He tries to walk away from my ridiculousness but I pull him back. "Wait wait don't go— this is my favorite part of the song."

I know exactly which minute this is: 2:37. I jump onto my bed for the big debut and sing. I swear I morphed into Taylor Swift that very moment.

When the song ends I'm a panting mess, God I'm out of shape. Looking down at Oakley who is stupidly grinning at me. He steps closer and wraps his arms around my waist to pull me against him.

"So... whaddya think? Have you found your next supporting act?" He carries me off of the bed and makes me stand on my feet.

"D'you know what I think?" He asks, his eyes stuck on my lips. I feel my heart beating against his.

"Well?" I grin.

"You suck at singing," he tries to kiss me but I throw my head back and laugh. His nimble fingers crawl beneath my jaw and tilt my head toward him again. "I'll never pick you for a supporting act."

His lips land on mine, but I remain stiffened as butterflies fluttered in my stomach as Oakley's lips pressed harder against mine. Somehow this kiss was different than many I've shared with him.