It'd been a week since their date, and they were both thrilled.
Rosie was sat on the floor with her legs crossed, wearing a pair of blue denim jeans and a Mayday Parade t-shirt, her dark hair was hanging messily around her ears; she never brushed her hair, there was no point. Freya left the kitchen and put the drinks on the oak coffee table that rested in the centre of the living room, before taking her seat in the gap of Rosie's legs. Freya leant back, resting her head against the crook of Rosie's neck, she was wearing faded jeans and a plain white t-shirt.
"So, you guys come to mine at around ten-ish, okay?" Gash said, sitting down on the brown leather couch. He ran his hand through his sharply slick back hair, his chiselled jaw clenched tightly from his fresh shave.
"Deal." Rosie nodded, rubbing small circles into the skin of Freya's waist.
Today, was Saturday. And this particular Saturday was Gash's twentieth birthday. Of course, he'd planned a house party, filled with raging testosterone, alcohol and female hormones. Rosie had been to many of his parties, it was the main place she could drink whilst being underage, she knew what to expect. But Freya couldn't help be feel at ease, she already hated Gash, purely because of his arrogance and cockiness. She dreaded the thought of his friends-loads of men with only one thing on their minds.
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Freya stepped into the room, the loud bass of the music hit her like an arrow in the chest. Frantically, she grasped Rosie's hand. She felt completely over dressed, and by that, she was actually wearing clothes. She quickly examined the room, it was crowded by sweaty, drunk young adults, all grinding their hips against one another in the living room. It reminded her of the club, but not in a nice way. All of the women here had bleached blonde hair and orange skin from bad tans. They made Freya understand the term 'short shorts', because they either wore those or mini dresses.
In contrast to them all, Freya was wearing a white dress that faded into a soft pink near the bottom of the skirt that fell above her knee. There was a brown belt that gently hugged her waist, defining her slender figure in a way that showed her natural beauty. On top of this, she had a light blue denim jacket on. Her blonde hair had been left in its curls for this event.
Rosie took Freya coat and led her upstairs, hiding her coat safely in a spare bedroom. Freya was surprised about the way Rosie had dressed tonight. She was wearing a grey crop top that hugged the top half of her torso deliciously, with high-waisted black jeans Freya could see the outlines of her toned stomach. She had a pair of black Nikes on as well as a red tartan shirt that hung loosely over her top half. Much to Freya's disappointment, Rosie took the shirt off too as she hid the coats under the bed.
Freya had never taken much notice to how amazing Rosie's body was, she had a lean figure, but if you looked closely, you could see the outline of her muscles that lay beneath her skin. She just looked lush, and Freya didn't want others to see.
"Come on, beautiful." Rosie took Freya's hand a lead her back downstairs.
"I prefer Pipsqueak." She muttered softly.
"You're too gorgeous right now to be called that." Rosie winked back her the girl she desired the most as she guided her to the kitchen.
Freya saw Cunt's man-bun before she actually saw him. She felt hope rise in her chest, it was nice to see a familiar face other than Gash's and Rosie's. They spoke in the corner as Freya drank squash.
It was almost one in the morning before the party had quietened in the slightest, but Freya still hated the loud music; it hurt her ears. She snuck upstairs and sat on the bed in the spare room, just scrolling through photos on her phone that she had taken of her and Rosie.
Rosie noticed she had gone, but wanted to give her at least five minutes to herself before heading up. She knew that there was tension between her and Gash, but didn't understand why.
"Pipsqueak?" Rosie opened the door quietly, leaning her body against the doorframe whilst she peered in. "You okay?"
Freya simply nodded.
Rosie shut the door and knelt infront of her, "Talk to me." She murmured quietly, taking both of Freya's small hands in her own.
"I'm just being awkward." A small smile lifted her face, but it didn't quite meet her eyes. Rosie knew that the smile on her lips was dead.
Rosie lay down on the bed and pulled at Freya until she submitted and lay down too. Rosie cupped Freya's face in her hands and kissed her with the tenderness that she needed. Freya was lost completely, the pounding music faded away until all she could hear was her heartbeat.
Their lips made their own song together, playing at each other's chords in different ways. Freya loved the way Rosie kissed her, recklessly, insatiably, as if it was their last time together. But something was wrong this time. Freya was very aware that Rosie's hand was slipping down to the waistband of her jeans, her fingers catching on the button.
Freya's heart pounded so loudly that she was afraid Rosie would hear it, but she wanted her to.
The taste of Rosie's lips turned sour.
Her hands stung against Freya's skin.
This wasn't right.
Rosie was a mile ahead of her, but Freya wasn't ready.
YOU ARE READING
Pipsqueak (BEING EDITED)
Romance|ORIGINALLY TITLED THE BAD GIRL CALLS ME PIPSQUEAK| Rosie was a tall girl; her hair was dark brown and fell short by her ears in a scruffy pixie cut. She had a black beanie hat on her head and dark red lipstick on her lips. She was wearing black, r...
