"You hit him with your car? That's how you guys met?"
"Yup. And I wouldn't have it any other way."
In which two hot-headed musicians learn to tolerate each other.
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song: planet caravan - black sabbath July 1984 ☆ ★ ☆ James' Pov ☆ ★ ☆
I'VE WOKEN UP in a lot of weird, unexpected places. I've woken up in a dumpster, on a bar floor half-naked, hell, I've even woken up in a stranger's bathtub once.
But never have I expected to wake up nuzzled in between one of my best friend's fucking boobs.
My head is rested comfortably on Olly's chest with her hands cradling my head, keeping it in place, her head resting atop of mine as my arm is thrown over her waist, my hand underneath the hem of her shirt and my fingers lingering over her smooth skin. She has her leg over my hip, so I couldn't move without waking her up.
The best way I could save the both of us some awkwardness was to pretend to be asleep, wait until she wakes up, and then pretend I wake up after her much later. I try to move my head, but there was physically no other place to put it.
I realized I was holding my breath, so slowly, I let it out and started to try matching my breathing with Olly's. After a while, I could feel her leg lift off of me to stretch as she lets out a tiny, incoherent noise. A soft gasp falls from her lips and she slowly pulls away from me, trying not to 'wake me up.'
I find myself missing her warmth as she saunters to the bathroom, getting ready for the day. Quietly, I leave the room and go downstairs to find the kitchen. I'm met with Josie filling up her mug with coffee.
"There any left for me?" I wonder, catching her attention.
"Oh, yeah, there is." She beams, grabbing another mug from the cupboard to fill it up and hand it to me.
"Thank you." I mumble, blowing off the steam to take a sip.
"Seven sort-of adults, and you know what none of us realized?" She lets out a chuckle, and I respond with a shrug. "To bring food to a house that hasn't been used in over a year."
At that, I laugh. Not that I'm surprised, but we were probably the only group of people that would remember to bring a giant unicorn floaty, but not actual food.
"Yep, that sounds like us." I snicker.
Soon, Cliff came into the kitchen, Lars and Kirk following suite like a couple of zombie-ducklings.
"Good morning." Cliff says, pouring himself a cup of coffee, ignoring the two boys groaning, slouched over the kitchen island.
"What's wrong with these two." Josie gestures to them.
