Crumbling walls

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Tour bus
27. April 1988

Amy's POV

I awake in the middle of the night feeling even more tired than before I went to bed. It's not that I've gotten much sleep in the last few days. A certain hot and sexy asshole had been on my mind way too often. This is really getting on my nerves.

Last night's show went amazing. The guys really killed it and my brother was in top condition. He knows how to entertain the crowd.

I'm so fucking proud of him.
Afterwards I had a few drinks backstage with the guys. Nikki had been noticeably absent. He had been there when the guys went off stage, but he disappeared soon after.

So, I didn't have a chance to speak to him. Not that I needed to speak to him, but it would've been nice to hear what the thought of Guns n Roses first show. I mean, he was the damn tour manager after all, right?

I guess his mind had been somewhere else, because I saw him talking to a stunning brunette. And the way her body was wrapped around his, it seemed pretty clear what her intentions were. Still, his eyes had hit mine when I rushed pass them and heat had spread throughout my body.

How could he set me on fire with just one look? By the time I noticed that Nikki had disappeared with the brunette, I tried to ignore the sick feeling I got at the thought of what they were probably doing.

So I drank with the boys, not wanting to go back on the bus and possibly walking in on them fucking.
When we went back, the bus was set in darkness and Nikki was already sleeping, probably wiped from fucking that groupie. Ugh...that guy was disgusting.

So, being awake in the middle of the night with no chance to get back to sleep, I exit the bedroom and see the curtains of Nikki's bunk open.

My stomach flutters from knowing he's out here ... which is totally crazy.
What am I? Twelve? I take a deep breath and try to keep it together. 

Ignoring my attraction for him lasts exactly three seconds until I see him sitting at the table and my hormones go into overdrive from the sight of him. His black hair is messy, the eyeliner smeared on his face and he's wearing nothing than a pair of black leather pants. Hell, he hadn't even bothered to zip up the pants.

My heart beats like a drum. Even with more make up than his last weeks bimbos combined, he looked sexy as hell.
What the hell is wrong with me? Just stop eye-fucking him every time you see him, Amy!

Thereýs a mug of coffee in front of him and an empty box of ice cream.
Where the hell did he get that? He's hunched over something that looks like a journal, writing like lunatic. He doesn't even notice that I'm here.

Taking a deep breath, I walk towards him. When I reach the table, his eyes lift from the journal to me. His gaze almost burns a hole in my panties.

"Mornin'  ginger." He drawls. His voice sounds all deep and throaty.
So fucking hot.
I ignore the damn nickname. There's no point in arguing anyway.

"Morning?" I perk up an eyebrow. "It's the middle of the night! Why are you even awake, Sixx?" I ask as I pour myself some coffee and join him at the table.

"I don't sleep much. There's so much coke around this fucking bus to stay awake for the whole tour." He says with one of his I-don't-give-a-shit-what-you-think smirks. But I can see something in his eyes that's not really matching his attitude.

Slowly sipping my coffee, I give him a grin. "You trying to shock me, Sixx? You realize that I'm living with a bunch of junkies, right?"

He nods, "And how's that working for you, honey?"

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