Driven | An Adam Driver Fanfiction

Chapter Six

I started to panic, looking all around me. Do I move my feet to let him sit? Or is that too obvious that I want to talk to him? Do I even want to talk to him? Who am I kidding, of course I want to talk to him but the real question is can I talk to him without making a complete fool of myself.

I end up moving my legs off the couch and hugging the arms rest to keep as far from his as possible, though I wanted to sit closer.

He sat on the complete opposite side of the couch, three feet away, loudly sipping from his red cup. Hundreds of scenarios play out in my head of how this situation could end up when he mumbled something. I didn't say anything back but I looked at him. Was he talking to me? As the question floated through my mind he glanced back at me with a cocked eyebrow.

"Erm. . .what?" I retracted my lower lip into my mouth and bit on it. He smiled at me with his thick lips. I took in the signs of his face. His pretty brown eyes weren't blood shot or droopy so maybe he wasn't hammered yet.

Pretty brow eyes? Knock it off. Okay, but come on. They are pretty. . .

He took a large hand and ran it through his thick hair. The dark ringlets fell into the same place around his ivory face. "I asked you what you think of the party." He swirled his cup around, staring absent mindedly at it waiting for my response.

"Well. . . I. . . uh. . .I don't really like parties?" It came out as a question. Why was he talking go me? There at plenty of other people here that he could talk to. Not that I didn't want to talk to him but why does he want to talk to me?

"Why not?" He pressed on. I shifted my body to face him a little better so I could truly take in all of his appearance (needless to say, I quite enjoyed it). In the process, my long cardigan got stuck under the crease of the arm if the couch. It was pulled taught. I didn't try to yank it out to save myself further embarrassment so I hoped no one noticed.

"I just. . .don't like crowds. Or drunk people. Most of all crowds of drunk people." My white-knuckled hand that was clutching my phone loosened when he chuckled softly at my pitiful attempt of humor. That was a good sign right? Laughing at my jokes? A promising sign. Whatever, it doesn't matter. Don't get your hopes up, he probably doesn't like you. I shut myself down in my head. I was really getting ahead of myself here. Maybe he just wanted a place to that was away from all the noise, like me. But weren't there any other places in the house for him to sit?

He placed his now empty cup on the glass coffee table in front of us. "The music though."

I snap out of my thoughts. "What about it?"

"Well, you love it right?" The sarcasm in his voice was subtle but still obviously there.

I grinned, showing my teeth. They're probably yellow, great. Way to pull yourself together, Anna Jeanne. "Not exactly. Call me crazy, but constant swearing in a song with a beat that makes my head ache for three days post listen doesn't really do it for me."

His head tipped down and his plump, pink lips hang open like I greatly offended his honor. The sarcasm becomes thicker as he speaks, though, signalling that I did nothing wrong. "You're crazy. I mean, who doesn't love it when their heart goes numb from the sick beats of mix master Drake?" I exhaled through my nose sharply instead of laugh from my mouth. Attractive and funny, truly a catch. "If you don't listen to the sweet, sweet sounds of Dr. Dre, then what do you like?"

Before I could answer, Oscar comes down the steps a little wobbly. His hair is still in oiled perfection despite is current state. Honestly, I forgot about him. I was so caught up in the of getting to talk to whoever this guy was for what would most likely be the first and last time that Oscar was nowhere in my mind. There was no room for him, not with all the daydreams about this fellow.

"Hey, there you are. I've been looking for you." He stepped closer to me and the guy I was sitting next to. "I see you found your way to Adam. How are you man? Haven't see you all night." The guy, Adam, and Oscar exchanged small talk as I sat awkwardly on the couch with Oscar's behind staring me right in the face. Every time he shifted his stance, a waft of very strong cologne breezed my face. It didn't smell bad, but it was definitely too much.

"Sounds good, dude." Adam shook hands with Oscar one final time before Oscar turned to me. I had to tear my eyes away from Adam's gaze towards me.

"Shall we go upstairs?" He lowered a hand for me to grab. It felt calloused and rough but I took it anyway. He didn't let go as he helped me up, he only took it and led me to the steps. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that my cardigan was still wedged in the cushions so when I went to walk away, I stumbled backwards before I yanked it out with inflamed cheeks. Adam stifled a laugh with a hand over his mouth. I quickly turn away from him and follow Oscar's gentle pull to the stairs. Awesome, out of everyone to make an idiot of myself in front of, it had to be him.

"Hey," Adam's voice came from the couch. I turn back to look at him, thinking he maybe wants to talk to me, hoping he wants to talk to me, but swung back around knowing it was Oscar he wanted. "Maybe, if I see you later, we can discuss the magical rhymes of none other than the great Tyga?" I bit the inside of my cheek as I smiled towards him. His white teeth were showing in his grin. I nodded in agreement.

I could've stayed there and talked with him and stared at him for the rest of the night but the hand I was connected to gave a squeeze. I looked up at Oscar who was a few steps ahead of me and found him switching glances between Adam and I with furrowed brows before continuing up the wooden panels without a word.