Wrong Guy

07 | show of affection

Episode Seven :
SHOW OF AFFECTION

≫   ≫   ≫

F A W N ' S P O V :

I woke up on top of a sleeping Lawrence. His hair disheveled, and mouth slightly open as he breathed steadily. In and out, in and out, the hair above his mouth blowing up with the exhales.

"Hey," I whisper, tapping his chin playfully as my eyes adjust to the sun, and he adjusts to being awake. When his eyes manage to open he blinks a few times, and then smiles down at me.

"Morning, doll," a smirk settles on his face, and I grin at his happiness.

"Where are we?" I ask, taking a look at the scenery surrounding us. I could see the tops of apartment buildings, and the layout of our city from the altitude. Birds were perched on a railing on the perimeter of the platform I'd been sleeping on not even a minute ago.

"It's the roof of my house." Lawrence smiles, and I blush looking away from the attractive bedhead he was currently dealing with. Gnawing on my cheeks I decide to speak up, realizing how strange it is to have fallen asleep with him.

What are the chances of this happening?
It's him.

"How did you get us up here? Well, how did you manage to get my unconscious body up here?" I laugh, and he shakes his head reminiscing upon whatever he entailed to do just that.

"Well, I always have left a ladder on the side of the house, out back where only the gardeners go. They told me they'd keep it a secret cause I payed them a tip a while back, but anyways—All I had to do was climb us up the ladder without dropping you." He finishes, and I stare in awe.

He has gardeners?
He can afford to tip them?
He has a yard big enough to have a whole section no one goes in?
Meaning there are multiple sections?

Holy fuck.

Suddenly small and insecure in the presence of this now familiar boy, I turn around and stand up walking to the railing and the birds. The birds that flew away the second my hand meshed with the cold metal, reflecting the glow of the morning sun.

"What time is it?" I ask quietly, and felt him step up from behind me.

"Stop." I state, and he quirks his head to the side as I turn around to face him.

"I—I like you Lawrence—" I was about to tell him how I like him, but I didn't to go to fast. Didn't want things to be ruined with impatience. I'd dreamed of being with him. Being with him this way.

I would've told him. But I was abruptly interrupted by his hands traveling around me to cup my butt, squeezing it causing me to jump in shock. My hands smacked at his from behind, but he just laughed at my struggling.

He thought I was kidding. Pretending to feel violated.
He thought I liked it.

"Lawrence." I stayed firmly knowing that an ounce of anything but sincerity would urge him on.

"You like me," He grinned as though he had just won another trophy. The accomplishment radiating from him in waves.

"Yes, but—but, but I don't want to mess this up. I want, I want it to be perfect, Lawrence. I want it to be just how I thought it would." I explain, and ignore the way his fingers are creeping on the exposed skin beneath my shorts.