The Story Of Us

The Story Of Us | Chapter Nine

"What do you think you'd do if my old best friend Harley came into town, and I spent every second and every day with him?" I smirked.

"Are you trying to prove a point or something?"

"Answer the fucking question, West." I demanded, rolling my eyes.

"I suppose I'd be the same way you were. But I would've fought the fucker, not my best friend." He said, giving me a pointed look.

"What that supposed to mean? You think that I can't fight?" I laughed, throwing my head back in hysterics.

"Ver did fight your fight." He shrugged.

"Alright. Let's go. Now." I said, standing up from the grass and pulling him to his feet, I put my fisted hands up in a boxers position and bent my knees. Ready.

"I'm not going to hi-" broke his jaw. Just kidding, but I did punch him in the jaw... "What the fuck?" He yelled, glaring at me and placing his hand on his jaw.

"Should've been ready. Now who can't fight?" I asked, sending another punch to his stomach and then dead legging him, putting him on his ass. I smirked down at his groaning body and raised an eyebrow.

"What wrong?" I asked innocently, sitting down next to him and grinning widely.

"You punch like a fucking... I don't know." He groaned, clutching his stomach. "I think I have internal bleeding." He added, sitting up painfully and sending a glare my way. "Where the hell did you learn to fight?"

"Well... My grandpa was in the Vietnam war, my dad was in the navy and they both decided that the oldest girl needed to be able to protect herself, all the while act like a fucking maid to males. So, I can beat the shit out of someone, cook, clean and take care of any family member." I shrugged.

"Your family is old school, huh?" He asked.

"Pretty much. Now, Mr. West, tell me something about you." I demanded.

"Like?" He raised an eyebrow and laid back down onto the grass, putting his hands behind his head sexily. I don't think his sexiness will ever end. He is going to be like that fucking David Beckham. Kill me.

"I dunno. Anything." I shrugged, laying down too. He pulled me to him and laid my head down on his chest, I sighed nonchalantly and pushed a cheesy smile off of my face.

"Well, I'm an only child, my mom died, dad treats me like shit, and my grandfather is an ex-mental patient who thinks I'm gay." He said, curtly as if it meant nothing.

We kept quiet for a while before I spoke up, "You can't leave me hanging like that."

"Huh?"

"Details are vital."

"Oh. Um... It's really not a good bedtime story, Penelope." He muttered, looking up at the stars with a faraway look.

"I don't care. This is you, Aston, I'm an open book, you definitely aren't." I said, smiling up at him reassuringly.

He sighed and nodded his head, looking down at me and kissing my forehead. Ugh, this mother fucker has me feeling some type of way...

"My mom died right after giving birth to me, the doctors told her the possibly of her surging was almost 1%, and she didn't listen. No matter how many times my father pleaded with her to get an abortion to save her life. And when the time came, he wasn't even there to cut the umbilical cord, he couldn't bare to see the love of his life have such a bastard child.

I gulped and looked up at him, scooting closer and kissing his cheek, he looked down and smiled before continuing.

"My fathers sister was there, while I was being birthed and she told my father when she passed. And my aunt was the one who took me home from the hospital, he hadn't even seen me yet and he already hated me. My aunt wouldn't leave until she knew my father could be trusted with me. She died when I was ten. And that's when I was thrown into hells eternal fire." He finished, a tear fell from my eye and landed onto his navy blue shirt. He pulled my body up and made me straddle him.