Wanted by The Wanted | ✔️

||TWENTY ONE ||

"Avs, are you okay?"

"Are you alright?"

"Do you need space?

"Sweetheart, we'll come with you."

"I'm right here, baby."

I sit down as a low hum of chatter begins in the diner again.

"I hate her."

The words come from me. A thumb brushed past my cheek, wiping away a frustrated tear, "She's going to ruin everything. I want to stay with you guys. It's not fair."

We drive back to our house in silence, everyone giving me space even though I know Oscar just wants to hold me. When I get to me and Oscar's room, I collapse onto the bed, a mix of emotions and currently not caring about my solemn swear to never touch this bed again.

"Avyn?" Oscar walks in soon after, voice soft as he sits down on the bed and pulls me back towards his chest, inbetween his legs, "It'll be okay."

"Will you come with me?" I ask with a sigh, trying to force my stubborn moodiness to leave me alone as I relax against his heated body, murmuring, "You're like a radiator."

"It's because I can't turn my hotness off," he jokes, "And yeah, I'll come. Did she say what time?"

"No. But dinner was always at exactly 7:00," I state, reminded of the robotic schedule of life as a child.

We fall into a comfortable silence, his arms resting on my stomach as I fiddle with his slender fingers.

"Why does she call you... you know?" he asks cautiously, tensing behind me as if I'd turn around and smack the living daylights out of him.

I force myself to be rational and take a deep breath, "Ravyn is my actual name. I always hated it so I cut off the first letter to stop me sounding like a black bird associated with death. She noticed and sometimes called me Avyn but when she was mad or trying to sound stern, she'd call me Ravyn."

He chuckles, the deep sound vibrating as I lean my head back against him and tilt my head up to look at him as he says, "I like it."

I disagree, I don't say. To lift my mood, I change the subject.

"What should I wear?" I ask, eyes going to the closet.

He follows my gaze and shrugs, "I think you should piss her off and wear something sexy. Not for my own personal enjoyment or anything, but to, you know, get on her nerves a little," he says innocently, "Like a low cut, black dress... Or a tight shirt and short skirt..."

I laugh, "Maybe I will."

"And by low cut," he adds, "I mean low."

He draws a 'v' shape, starting at my shoulder and cutting diagonally downards towards my chest. Drawing down to the bottom of my breasts, he then strokes upwards to the other shoulder.

"It's like you want me to flash everyone," I observe, looking up at him to poke his cheek as he smiles cheekily, "Okay, maybe not that low. That sight is for my eyes only."

I smile at that, finding the courage to ask what's been on my mind lately, "So are we together now?"

"We were always together," he replies, his tongue curling around the arrow-shaped industrial piercing on my right ear and tracing its long shape.

"You're so weird," I mutter as he pulls away after nipping at my earlobe, "I meant, can I call you my... you know, boyfriend."

He chuckles and turns my head towards him before pressing his lips to mine. It's a brief kiss, and he pulls back after swiping his tongue across my bottom lip, "Does that answer your question, girlfriend?"