The Vamps Oneshots/Songfics Book.

Imagine Twenty - The Morning After (Brad)

My eyes fluttered open at the much too early time of 9am, and the unfamiliar surroundings began to alarm me, before the memories from last night came flooding back in full force.

I gently lifted the duvet cover up and noticed the arm that was wrapped around my waist. Just the sight and the attached memory of it caused a slight blush to arise on my cheeks, and I proceeded to slowly turn around to come face-to-face with the boy with whom I’d spent the night.

“Morning” he whispered, and planted a soft, lazy kiss on my lips. Just having Brad near me, never mind in this close of a proximity, made me feel like I was living a silly movie cliché, the hopeless romantic type.

“So, do you think today can possibly match up to last night?” he asked in a raspy morning voice which was far too irresistible in my opinion. The memories of last night again cropped up to the focal point of my brain, and the word ‘perfection’ often appeared in the corresponding thoughts.

“I doubt it” I replied, leaning up slightly to leave a long, lingering kiss upon his plump lips. With his free arm which wasn’t around my waist he wiped the remaining sleep out of his eyes, slowly preparing for the day ahead of us.

I reluctantly rolled back over to retrieve my phone and check for any messages, which weren’t all that plentiful, thankfully. I muted the device to prevent future interruptions and realised I was giving the phone my full, undivided attention, as once I tore my gaze away from it I was alone in the bedroom, and the concern was growing thick and fast in my mind.

I stood up and pulled on a pair of shorts and Brad’s shirt from the night before, and went into the living room in pursuit of him. I eventually found him in the kitchen, just preparing breakfast. “Thanks for running out on me” I projected my voice sarcastically to be heard above the sizzling of pans.

“Sorry Nay, but you were on your phone, in my defence. I thought you’d got bored of me” he replied with a smirk, and I rolled my eyes. This guy knows how to work a conversation.

“Well maybe I have, I’m a desirable girl to many, Simpson. You’re just the lucky one” I informed him (clearly jokingly) but it didn’t come across that way to him, evidently. He dropped the various food items he was handling on the kitchen counter, switched off the oven and came running up to me, stopping a few centimetres short.

He looked down at me with a countless mixture of expressions swirling in his eyes. Concern, worry, lust, along with many more I couldn’t put a name to. “Are you serious?” he asked, taking a gentle hold of my arms and rubbing his hands up and down them, a sign of affection and generally warming me up.

I shrugged in response, wanting to see how far I could push this game before he clicked on. He held our gazes for a few more seconds before his head dipped down, his lips ridiculously close to my ear. “So tell me how I can convince you I’m the best, I’ll do anything. Anything” the last word sent shivers down my spine just thinking of the connotations it could possibly entail.

He then pulled away slightly, just far enough that our gazes could meet again. I had no idea how I must have looked at that moment, probably dazed, probably shocked. Probably on the whole highly unattractive. I was deep in thought, after all.

He then smiled and his head dipped down again, leaving a trail of kisses up and down my neck, getting more passionate as they progressed. It was at that second (no idea why) that I hatched an idea. I waited until Brad had finished what he was doing and then proceeded to wait until he returned to his previous standing stance.

He cast his gaze towards my neck, admiring his work. Yep, it was definitely going to leave a faint mark. I took it as the perfect time to take a step forward so we were intimately close, and leaned up to kiss him, just softly – and teasingly.

I pulled away around a millisecond later. “So you want to know how you can prove you’re the best, huh?” I asked, loving the fact I had a measurable size of metaphorical power over him, I had the power to make him do anything I wanted.

He nodded. “Whatever it takes, Naomi” he told me, his voice still carrying a raspy undertone due to not being up that long. He then set to lean down and kiss me again, but I pressed a finger against the lips, stopping him.

“I want to have a Disney marathon” I revealed with a sweet smile. With my answer not being the one he expected, Brad seemed slightly taken aback, but soon enough returned a smile. I then dropped my finger and he finished the kiss he attempted to start before.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and I wrapped mine around his neck, and it was a blissful few minutes. Once we broke apart I skipped towards his dvd collection next to the tv, and pulled out every Disney movie he owned, stacking them up in the order I’d decided we were going to watch them.

During the fifth movie I was in the Disney state of mind, and didn’t bother to mask my confusion when the movie paused without me pressing the button. “I just want to tell you something” Brad’s soft voice said from behind me, causing me to reposition myself so instead of being curled against his chest I was facing him.

“I don’t care if I’m the best, as long as I’m a contender” although it was obvious my joke had been playing in his mind all this time, it was still a really sweet thing for him to say, though I would never actually want to be with anyone else, because little did he know, he was the best. By a long shot.

“Besides” he continued, catching me by surprise. “I doubt you’d look that good in anyone else’s shirt” he tugged at the thin material bringing me closer to him. Our lips connected again, the butterflies in my stomach never disappearing.

My startled response was clearly entertaining to Brad, but how could I possibly respond to that? He softly chuckled and pressed play on the remote, the movie continued. I smiled and shuffled back around and cuddled into his chest, his arm wrapping around my waist affectionately.

“Whatever you want Naomi, whatever you want” he whispered, pressing his lips to the back of my head.

This guy. This guy was the one.

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