playing with the air // m.h.

knocking round town

knocking round town

d e s t r y // p o v

It's two in the morning now and my head is spinning. I've been leaning on George's tall frame and laughing uncontrollably at some joke Ross made. Everyone was a bit wasted at this point, but no one had reached an obnoxious drunk level. After taking quite a few shots each, Matty and I had returned to the group without much word, but even now I felt as though he was staring right at me—not having the mind to actually face him. Instead I find myself looking up to George, laughing even harder when I see his scrunched face and feel his body shudder.

"Where'd Asher go?" Adam looks at me, furrowing his brow in confusion. Ash had detached himself from the girl he was flirting with to come officially meet everyone not that long ago, but soon disappeared again—except this time I couldn't find him anywhere in the room.

I push my bottom lip out, pouting, as I look back at Adam with a shrug, "I don't know, but he was my ride home technically."

"You can crash at the hotel with us," George squeezes me gently with the arm he's had lazily wrapped around me for the past hour. I look back and forth between Ross and Adam, looking for reassurance that this was alright, to which they both nodded. It was probably my best option; I was far too drunk to actually drive (plus Asher probably took the Benz in an attempt to impress the C list actress he picked up) and I hate taking Ubers alone. Plus George was really warm right now and I felt my eyes dropping a little.

"We can have an after party as well," Ross jokes, taking a drink out of his red cup. "That is if little thing there can keep up."

"Heeeeeeeeeeeyyyy," I whine at Ross, I could keep up. In all fairness though I had done more shots than anyone else in the group, and was still sipping on a cranberry-vodka mix. I was getting sleepy however, feeling totally off balance. I start to stumble when I feel two arms grab onto me, looking up to see George with a concerned expression, trying to pull me back upright. Its now that I finally look over to Matty, who has been silent for quite a while now—which didn't seem characteristic of him. Immediately my stomach drops; he is in fact staring directly into me, causing me to even shudder. He looked mad almost, as if he was fuming with his arms crossed in a way that was very defensive, yet very I'm-about-to-punch-someone way. It was intimidating really, and I felt myself cower slightly under his gaze. Why was he mad? And why was he staring at me?

"I think maybe we should start heading back," my attention is snapped back up to directly beside me, where George was now addressing everyone. I waited for him to look at Matty, to see if his expression changed to give away what was going on. If George knew why Matty was mad, he wasn't giving it away. Everyone nods in agreement and starts to gather themselves to leave. Apparently they had a car waiting downstairs for them the entire night, where I'm squished between Ross and the window. The hotel is only ten minutes away, though the entire time Ross and I talk about what zoo has the best penguin exhibit and how cool they are when they swim. What can I say? Drunken Des is easily entertained

I feel pretty stable and as if I'm sobering up until we get into the elevator, where I basically immediately fall on the pouting noodle boy as soon as we move.

"I'm sorrryyyy," I drunkenly mumble face first into his chest.

"You alright, love?" I feel his hands grab onto my shoulders, trying to help me upright again, but only enabling me leaning onto his shoulder, closing my eyes. The last thing I remember from my night out was the gentle shaking of Matty's callused hands on my bare shoulders, his voice fading out as he kept asking if I was okay.

m a t t y / / p o v

I know I'm being childish, just staring at her, but my stomach was knotted in green jealously and I feared if I said anything it may result in my pulling her close to my body instead of George's. I don't join in when the group laugh, but I do feel my eyes brighten when I watch her throw her head back in a deep laugh, her platinum curls sprawling over George's arm. I've never been more envious of a single body part. She's been drinking a lot more than me, so it wasn't as if I could make a more—it wasn't respectable and she wasn't in the right mind. Plus I think it would be that much more satisfying to watch her blush when I ask her out to dinner, or to coffee—though she may be sick of coffee considering her job—or to literally anything because I guarantee her face could brighten any situation and make it the best time of my life. Even as I watch her lounging on my best mate, I feel a happiness inside—deep past the jealousy of course—but a joy to see her having fun and laughing at all of Ross's awful jokes. I feel like I appear pissed, but this is probably one of the best parties I've been to in ages. Suddenly my ears perk back to the conversation—George was inviting her back to the hotel with us, since blondie found someone to partner up with tonight. Something I'm perfectly okay with. Then she starts falling, I start to move forward, ready to catch her and help her back up but George's lanky arms are already there, supporting her. The green monster inside me rages again, causing me to step back and cross my arms—surely pouting like a toddler. Unfortunately this is the moment she looks at me, her ocean eyes boring into me. Her innocent face contorts into something of concern- her brows furrowing. I was worrying her, was I really that transparently upset?

"I think maybe we should start heading back," I look up to meet eyes with George, giving him a small nod of agreement. Within minutes we're in the car downstairs, Destry still sat far away from me. I don't know why I was worrying, she was literally coming up to my hotel room.

When we reach the lift I start to ponder the sleeping situation; George will probably offer up our room and we'll sleep on the couch—which isn't a problem, her current comfort was my biggest concern at the moment.

Just like that my thoughts are interrupted by a small body crashing into me, Des had managed to fall face first into my chest.

"I'm sorrryyyy," her voice is entirely muffled by my body. I hold onto her shoulders, where her jacket had slid down slightly, and try to pull her upright—only to have her lean into my shoulder instead. I can feel my ears heat up, turning pink as my cheeks soon follow.

"You alright, love?" I say gently, trying to get her back to coherency, but she's basically a dead weight on me. All the boys are looking at me, weighting for my to ask help on getting her off, but I don't—strangely comfortable with this small girl pushing me to the elevator wall with no escape.

"She'll take our bed?" I inquire to George once we get to the suite. Hann had helped me get Destry onto my back in a limp piggyback style, but she was still asleep.

"Yea, I figured that'd be best." George purses his lips, still eyes us up and down like there's a hidden message he's waiting to uncover. I can only nod, not knowing what to say or where this tension came from.

Luckily our sheets had been changed while we were away, leaving a clean bed for her to rest in. I do my best to balance her body and pull back a blanket corner. I back up and set her down a gently as I can, only to find out she had been playing with my hair by her grip going closer to my roots and causing me to tense up, shivers running up and down my spine. I'm hovered over her half awake form as she runs her hands through a few times before she lets out a quiet giggle. It's taking a conscious effort for my to now let out little groans of comfort when her nails scratch my scalp gently. She's not rough or clumsy—just slow and observing.

"Y'know your hair bounces when you walk? Its like a bowl of noodles," she giggles again, causing me to snort at her words.

"Alright, alright, no need to get offensive. Come on now, love, tuck you legs up in the bed." She instantly becomes extremely pliant, nodding and tucking her now bare feed under the duvet, her hands slowly unweaving themselves from me, and turning to her opposite side so her back is now to me. I shudder one last time before standing straight up and stretching. I peel out of my evening's wear, leaving me only in a black pair of Calvin Klein's. I check behind me every other second—making sure she wasn't about to turn around and see me stripping.

The last thing I see before turning out the light and slipping into the living room is her hair gathered around her like a halo, body slowly, but steadily moving up and down with her breaths. A sense of total contentment over comes me as I close the door, knowing she was safe and comfortable allowing me to sleep easily.