Under The Mistletoe || Malum

Sorry I didn't mea-what's that?(Bonus Chapter)

I scrambled around on the floor, picking up my papers and praying to whatever god was out there that my glasses weren't broken.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to-I was in a hurry and sorry, sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry,"

I paused at the snort that came from above. I sighed, hanging my head, continuing to pick up my books, running a hand through my gelled hair, probably ruining it, but well, the fall probably messed it up anyways. A boot landed on my hand, not enough to crush it, but only enough to stop my hand from moving anywhere.

I stared at the boot. Oh no. Oh no no no no no, that-that is Ashton Irwin's signature shoe. A black boot with white marbling detail and black laces, toes dipped in tungsten; undeniable and deadly as hell, not to mention expensive as hell, his parents have got to be packed up to their necks in money for Irwin to sign the papers so casually. How do I know this is Irwin's shoe? I designed them. My father owns a shoe company, for those who have...special requests. Climbing shoes with special hooked grips? Yeah. Stuff for assassins and the government? Yup. all that. Strange job yeah. Of course, it's a family run business, which means that yes, I'm living that cliche double life.

Imagine if I had my own book, the opening flap would probably be something like, 'By day, nerdy nobody. By night, shoe dealer,'

Yeah, or maybe not. I was pulled from my thoughts when the boot lifted and my hand was turned around, palm up. My glasses were pushed into them, and I curled my fingers around them protectively. I may be a quiffed, bad boy after school, but that didn't make me any less blind.

"Th-thanks,"

"Yeah,"

The rough, deep voice of Ashton Irwin met my ears, his breath heating my ear. I resumed picking up my things, Ashton helping me. We stood, and found that I was a few inches taller than him. Ashton's eyebrow raised and lips pursed in what appeared to be mild annoyance. His eyes flickered to something behind me.

I just looked away, not knowing what to do. Ashton swiped his tongue against his teeth, fire in his eyes. I slowly started backing away, hating the feeling of all eyes on me, especially in this shitty get up.

I kept backing up, but for some odd reason, Irwin followed me, boots clacking on the floor from the metal tipping. I stopped when I only had a few inches until I hit the crowd, and touching people is not my thing. Like at all.

Gasp's echoed throughout the hallway. Ashton and I furrowed our eyebrows, looking at the crowd which was full of whispers and raised hands, pointing...

I looked up, and wilted.

Mistletoe.

Oh fuck me.

This can't' be happening.

No. Uh-uh. Nope, I'm just hallucinating. Am I dreaming?

I pinched myself, wincing afterwards. Nope, definitely not dreaming. I blinked, hard, and opened again. Nope, not hallucinating either.

Fuck fuck fuck fuckitty fuck fuck fuck. Fuck.

Ashton growled, and I gulped. Trying to back up further, forgetting about the crowd behind me. Hands shoved me back to where I was, only a bit further, and I ran right into Ashton. I back went ram rod straight, eyes wide.

"Uhm..."

"Ugh,"

He grabbed me by my bow tie, pulling me in, pressing his lips to mine; then shoving me away just as fast. I stood there, stunned, because the dude known for not playing by the rules, ever, was playing by a little meager tradition, which was certainly a shitty kind of rule, if it could even be called that.