I'm Not Sorry: A Justin Bieber Fan Fiction

Twenty

♥ smiles e v e r y w h e r e ♥

✌

"Sorry," Justin mumbled, dropping his head down, "I'll remember to behave next time and never say anymore bad words."

"You'd better," Pattie's eyebrows weren't furrowed that tightly anymore when my eyes snapped up to look at her. "Don't forget you're famous either, okay? Whatever you do and whatever you say affects your image."

"That is true," I interjected, stealing mom's and Pattie's attention. "But he kind of was just defending me, because that waitress—she didn't exactly say the nicest words about me, you know. . . So. . ."

"Wait, you were there the whole time?" Justin questioned next to me, but I refused to answer his questions. I kept my gaze strenuous on the mothers before me. 

"What did she say about you?" Mom voiced up, her eyebrows furrowing quicker and so much deeper than before. "Should I write a complaint to that restaurant or go to that restaurant and find her?" Goddammit, here comes my fierce, protective mother again.

I let out air from my nostrils.

"Nah, it's all settled. I gave her a couple of fives," I shrugged my shoulders, making Justin snicker as he threw an arm around my waist, pulling me to his side slightly. I tried not to burst out laughing at this moment though.

Mom would think something's wrong.

"Five though?" Pattie questioned; confusion written clearly on her face.

"She got all physical with that woman," Justin chuckled, making Pattie's eyes widen, and mom's to narrow down slightly. "It was a good match, though."

"Are you for real?" Pattie gasped lightly, darting her eyes on me, from places to places probably searching for injuries. "Are you hurt?" She asked; the concern in her voice seeping into my ears.

I flashed her a small smirk and shook my head just as mom nodded at me. "Violence isn't always the solution, but I'm so proud of you for doing that." See, I told you I took after mom in basically everything.

I remember when dad was still around; he could barely handle two similar girls by his side but he still managed to, I guess, for a while.

"You two go get changed," Pattie ushered us towards the stairs, "in different rooms, and then get some rest because I think it must've been a rough night for the both of you."

Laughing, I grabbed Justin's hand and pulled him along behind me as the both of climbed the stairs and hurriedly strolled into the twins' room. It was late already, so seeing them asleep wasn't entirely surprising.

They're so cute! I can never get sick of saying that!

Tipping my toes as I made my way towards their beds, I first snuck up Jonah's bed gave him a quick peck on the forehead before making my way towards Jenna's bed, doing the exact same thing, except, very much gfter

Jenna's eyes fluttered open, but they flickered to a close again when her soft snores filled the room once more, leaving a trail of kiddy atmosphere in it.

Jonah was a real guy, I know. Jenny woke up, but he didn't, and Jenna wasn't a light sleeper either, so. . . I hope that made much more sense now.

I stared at them for a while. allowing my mind to snap mental images of all of them, taking in their pretty features―it's been a long time since I've done this; I'm only always doing this whenever I'm in the best mood.

But what I really can't believe was the fact that they looked like me―like little clones of me, you know, when I was at their age. All three of us took after our mom―our really extremely beautiful mother.

"They're honestly really adorable though," Justin stated softly, fearing he might wake up either up if he pushed his voice up to the normal one he usually uses to speak. Wrapping his arms around my sides, he dropped his chin lightly on my shoulder, making me melt under his touch, leaning in fully to rest against him.

"They are, aren't they?" I responded with a small laugh, nuzzling my head by the crook of his neck, making him chuckle, pressing a kiss onto my forehead when I'd stopped digging deep. "They're so cute, I can't even begin to describe it."

The sight was cute. Babies are cute.

I don't know how to explain how much I love kids.

Justin wrapped his left arm around my waist, and stood beside me. "How come Jenna isn't like Jonah though? That's what confuses me―she's only five, but she's like, in love with me, and that is really way too adorable."

I rolled my eyes, grinning slightly. He had a point there, but he should know that she's just a child―she doesn't know how it's like to be in love; she only knows how it's like to love someone. "Cocky much? It's adorable, but no, she just loves you. She's not in love with you," I laughed silently.

"Damn, I smell something sour," he paused, jabbing his elbow into my side teasingly, "do ya?"

"Yeah, right," I rolled my eyes, "I'm so not jealous."

"Yeah, right," he mocked, "you are so jealous."

"Don't you dare twist my words."

"Don't you dare twist my―"

"That's it. I'm not gonna kiss you for the rest of the week," I huffed out loud as quietly as possible, careful not to disrupt the beauty sleep of the twins. . . Not like they still actually needed it―they were as perfect as could be already, in my opinion.

Pulling my figure closer into his body, I rolled my lips into my mouth to contain myself from giving in. No, I can't. I won't be a softie, especially one like him. Like, ever. 

"I'm so, so, so fucking sorry, baby, I take 'em all back," he muttered lowly under his breath once he had lowered his head down to my ear,, practically whispering inside, sending the goosebumps to rise on the back of my neck almost immediately.

Don't. Give. In. E v e r.

"Too late," I insistently added on, flashing him a sweet smile when he turned his whole body, throwing his other arm around my waist―his oh so cute lips in the most adorable pout in the history of pouts.

"But it's a Wednesday. . ."

"Do I look like I care?" I teased, allowing my teethless smile to broaden when his pout grew even bigger.

"Whatever," he grumbled, inching his head forward to nuzzle his face in the crook of my neck. "Sigh. . ."

"Make it two weeks."

"Justine."

"Justin."

"Please, don't torture me."

"What if I like it?" I smirked at him even though I was aware he wouldn't be able to see it. I wrapped my arms around him as he began fidgeting against my body.

"Then I'll torture you by tempting you to kiss me," he whispered sexily into my hear, pressing his lips onto my skin; my neck instantly rising with heat at the touch of his lips. "And I'm not even done."

"Fuck you, you little shit," I let out a laugh.

I know I probably would give in tomorrow. Or the next day. Hell, now even.