Our Detachment *A BVB/BMTH FANFIC*

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: I Am Living One Big Nightmare- The Ugly Truth Has A Model Face

Los Angeles, 21st July, 6:47am

'Warped Tour, here I come!', she yelled at the brightly shining sun while raising her long, skinny arms in the air.

She was standing on the balcony of her flat. Still in her pjs. Her curly, blonde hair fought against the pleasantly blowing wind. Some streaks fell on her happy, smiling face. Her seldom blue eyes sparkled. Her hands trembled- probably of happiness.

It was going to be a perfect day. No, it was gong to be an amazingly perfect day for her! She already loved it. No, she had been living for this one day so she adored it!

'Stop screaming and calm your tits', he suddenly appeared behind her for which reason the girl slightly jumped up.

Soon after that, his dry lips were pressed to her forehead and she laughed at his tired expression. He still was quite sleepy after the party last night.

'You look like an angry sloth', the blonde joked and lightly poked his arm. with her ellbow

The black-haired pouted so he looked like a cute, annoyed duck and made her laugh even more. Crossing his arms over his big chest and looking down at the barely even five feet tall girl, he found himself grinning one dirty grin. In fact, even Anne realized his bemused smile and wanted to back away. But it was already too late...

'We still have some time only for the two of us!', he grabbed her by the waist, pulled his girlfriend closer and gently bit on her earlope.

'Bu- but...Andy', her voice failed her while she looked up, directly into some forbiddenly beautiful ocean-blue eyes.

He was waiting for her to respond and he was very impatient so that his grip round her waist just tightened. His teeth began to grind. It sounded quite painful, but she was nonetheless peacefully thinking about how to answer.

Yes or no? They really should not do it before the flight to Auburn because otherwise they would not want to stop. They would get addicted and it was not intentional at the moment. With her pinky on her lowerr lip, she looked pretty much lost in the thoughts of hers. If they were up to do this, it would not end good- that was all Anne knew and she actually did not want to risk it.

'Pweeeease!', he was stubborn- way too stubborn.

That was perhaps the only thing she truly hated about him, but the tall, black-haired was nevertheless gorgeous and she love him. A lot!

'Fine!', she briefly agreed so he immediately lifted her up and optimistically dragged to the living room. 'Let's fucking play Guitar Hero!'

London, 21st July, 5:47pm

He was woken up by some strange noises next to him. In his bed. Slowly the brown-haired somehow managed to open his eyes to check if everything was alright. His head damnably ached for which reason his mouth hastily twisted. And as soon as the morning sun dazzled the apples of his eyes, he was forced to shut them in pain. How late was it already? What was the time saying? He did not know. With both eyes closed, the male tried to blindly reach out for the clock, that was supposed to stand on the night table right next to his bed. But, for some reason, he could not find it.

'Fuck!', he quietly groaned as his hand slipped off and blood started streaming out of the wound.

His big, green-brownish eyes promptly flung open and his whole body automatically straightened up. Looking down at his wounded palm, he justly wondered and yawned barely audible.