Love Games

16||Crew vs Crew

🦋Amina

I found myself trapped in a social tragedy , desperately trying to dodge any interaction with Easton since our awkward encounter at the pharmacy. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. Amidst the chaotic blend of drunken karaoke and gluttonous feasting, Easton cornered me at the kitchen counter, casually slicing open a backwood.

"You're not talking today?" he remarked, his voice cutting through the din.

Fuelled by liquid courage, my response dripped with bitterness. "Didn't want to bother you," I shot back, preparing to flee. Yet, he intercepted me, guiding me into the quiet hallway away from prying eyes.

"It wasn't like that, G," he insisted, rolling his neck in frustration. "I just had some shit to take care of."

"Cool," I muttered, attempting to break free once more, but his grip on my arm held firm. Exasperated, I glared at him over my shoulder. "What?" I spat.

"I don't want things to be awkward between us. We can talk about whatever you wanted to talk about," he express, releasing me and leaning against the opposite wall.

"You made it awkward," I retorted, my voice laden with accusation, the tension palpable between us. "You kiss me, parade another girl in front of me, then act like I don't exist. Real smooth."

He chuckled, a low, seductive sound that sent a shiver down my spine despite my best efforts to maintain my composure. "You're cute when you're jealous," he remarked with a smirk, his eyes dancing with mischief.

I scoffed, determined not to let his charm disarm me. "And you're not cute at all. You're just an asshole."

"Look, my bad for the shit at the pharmacy," he says, his voice tinged with sincerity. "And Nina, we ain't even on that type of time. Strictly business," he clarified, his gaze unwavering. "It's you I've been thinking about."

His unexpected honesty caught me off guard, a flicker of vulnerability seeping through my defenses. I averted my gaze, struggling to maintain my composure as a rush of conflicting emotions washed over me. I'm wrecking my brain for a response, spitting up the first thing I can.

"I can't tell," I muttered, crossing my arms defensively, my heart pounding in my chest.

Undeterred, Easton closed the distance between us, his presence engulfing me as he leaned in and unexpectedly smashed his lips into mine. The kiss was heated, soft, and sweet, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through my veins. In that moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the intensity of our connection.

As he broke the kiss, stepping back slightly, he tilted my chin up, his eyes searching mine with a mixture of longing and determination. "How about now?"

Breathless and dizzy with emotion, I struggled to find my voice, the weight of his gaze leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. But deep down, I knew the answer. In that moment, surrounded by the crackling energy of the party and the magnetic pull of Easton's presence, I surrendered to the undeniable truth—I was starting to like him. I had no idea where this came from.

Gathering my composure, I squared my shoulders and met his gaze with newfound resolve. "So what is this?" I demanded, my voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside me. "Are we going to keep kissing like middle schoolers or finally talk about what any of this means?"

As I awaited Easton's response, a knot formed in my stomach, anxiety gnawing at the edges of my resolve. His silence stretched on, each passing moment amplifying my uncertainty and disappointment. Did he not feel the same way? Was I just another fleeting moment in his life?