Gentle

Abuse & Love

*A/N: Not to toot my own horn but... TOOT TOOT! :DDD First 160 reads?! WOAH! And second off... I thought the previous chapter was pretty damn good! (You should go read that because it's kinda important!!1!1) This chapter fucking sucks. Alright, just wanted to say MASSIVE THANK YOU! And for all of those who like One Direction, read my little Larry fan fiction! I haven't updated it in like years bc lazy BUT THIS WEEKEND I WILL POST ANOTHER CHAPTER FOR HERE AND THERE AND EVERYWHERE! AHHHH! So here's the next chapter! PLEASE DON'T BE OFFENDED IF I HATE ON ANYONE BC IT'S JUST A FAN FIC! LOVE YOU ALL! VOTE, FOLLOW, AND ALL THAT JAZZ! Enjoy!(:*

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  I push the door open to the American Eagle outlet. Really I was only hoping to see Rydel there because I need a girl not vent to. Not Emma. Drama queen and rude. Hates me. She's dead to me anyways.

   When I'm not satisfied with anything on the racks, I quickly exit the store without making eye contact with anyone. I need to find Ryland and talk to him. Not really speak to him and see his lips move up and down that tell me meaningless things. I want him to use his lips for something else.

   I'm not really sure if I fly back to the hotel or run, but either way I get there pretty quickly to say the least. By the time I'm knocking on Ryland and Garron's hotel door, I'm definitely panting and sweating. I probably wait at the door for 5 minutes until someone finally answers and it's not the person I was hoping for.

   "Hey Molly! What's up," Garron greets, usual cheerful smile on his tan face.

   "Is..uh..Ryland here," I ask.

   "He just went out to go hang with you and find you."

   I scoff. How could he ever think that he would find me along the busy streets of Philadelphia? All I want is for our lips to meet. Only meet. Nothing else. Just kiss him once. Only once is what I beg for.

   As I walk bag to my dingy hotel room, I think of all the times everyone has beaten me down on Twitter and then eventually one of the bands see and tell them to stop. It makes me feel so much better to know 6 of my favorite people in the world actually know who I am and care about me too. 

   I remember this one girl who comes to about every show and met them probably, like, 9 times, came up to me at my merch table and said to me, straight in the face, "You can't even sing. Plus, you're ugly too and fat. Die you dumb bitch. I should go on tour with R5, not you."

   Riker heard and stood right behind her. He said, in a deep voice I've never heard before, "Say that again." 

   The girl turned and looked up at him, considering he's like 55632'9, and she replied in a real small, quietish voice, "Nothing. Just nothing." She ran away so quick I couldn't help but laugh even if that really got to me a little bit later, especially now. Riker won't sign anything of hers anymore or even talk to her. In their most recent VIP picture, he didn't even smile! Loyalty at its finest, is what you could call it.

   Now, as I lay down on my bed, I think if Riker is always like that, defending everyone. Always feeling the need to protect his friends and family because he's the oldest. Smiling through all the hate, but when he may really be dying inside. Touring all the time, usually playing shows, when all he may want is to settle down and get some real schooling. Maybe he loves his what he's doing. He loves the fans because he always tells me, but does he just want to have a normal life instead? Now I know why he's always sleeping backstage. Overwork or just down with the case of homesickness.

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   That night, Riker invites into him and Rocky's hotel room. We haven't talked that much since the night he heard me mumbling about all my Loud tour conflictions. Once I'm actually outside the wooden suite door, I consider if I should actually talk to him or not. I still don't know if I want to make my full decision on who I want to go out with. I decide I should because what's one little talk gonna do anyways? Besides, Rocky's gonna be there too!

   I hope.

   Riker answers the door about 30 seconds after I knock. "Hey," he greets, opening the door a little wider for me to walk in.

   I look around cautiously, "Where's Rocky?"

   "He's out, walking around. Probably looking for girls, but I have mine right here," he whispers seductively in my ear, coming up close behind me.

   Well, I hoped wrong. 

   Riker walks to the mini kitchen and opens the small fridge that looks tiny when he opens it up with his abnormally large hands. "Want anything Moll," he offers.

   "No thanks. I'm fine," I reply, sitting on the couch.

   "Yes you are," he murmurs to himself and lightly chuckling after his smartass remark.

   Moll. There it goes again. My butterflies. Me trying to act 'hard-to-get.' Every time he says either my name or my nickname, it gets me. I still love him. A lot apparently. 

   I lay on the couch in my sweatpants just like I used to do at home and Riker comes over and sits on his bead, laying on his stomach. "Are you gonna go visit your parents tomorrow?"

   I nod, missing my family so much. "Yeah, after the show I'll probably go over since we have another day off after tomorrow's concert."

   Riker smiles sweetly. "Alright, but you better be back missy!"

   "I will!"

   There's an awkward silence... just like I imagined. "You're so pretty," Riker says to me, tilting his head a little admiringly.

   My cheeks instantly go red. He. Thinks. I'm. Preeety. 

   I don't just sit there, I go over to him, bend down, and kiss his soft bleach blond hair. He looks up, signature Lynch brown eyes seeming to sparkle. Riker pulls me on the bed and I topple on top of him clumsily.

   Leave it to me to pull a dumb stunt like that.

   He kisses me, hands roaming my back and eventually to my butt. I hum into his mouth and on his tongue. The whole time I feel like I'm literally on Cloud 9 when we keep rolling around on his bed. Soon enough, being the clumsy person I am, I fall off the bed with Riker on top. We break the kiss by laughing it off and that seems to end the whole thing.

   The end of the whole make out session.

   But I want to kiss him again and I do. Only lightly this time, except he pulls me back down and we're rolling around once again, bruises already on my arms and neck.

   And some black and blue marks on my heart, from being hurt one too many times. It can be repaired. 

   Just like my sanity for boys.

   "I love you," he says in between kisses.

   But you don't want to, is all I can think of.

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