Sydney

five

The Free House

"So this is Sydney Smith's room?" He asks looking round at the dark blue walls, mostly covered in shelves of books, pictures and fairy lights. Half my wardrobe sits on the floor in the corner, I scoop it up and dump them at the bottom of my wardrobe, where they will probably stay for eternity, and close the door. I'd given him a tour of the rest of the house, it had ended here. 

"Sure is, sorry it's such a mess." I apologise, slightly embarrassed. I rarely tidy it unless I know company is coming over. 

"You have so many pictures." He says looking at the ones I've bluetacked to the wall opposite my bed. They're mostly pictures of me and my friends, some selfies of us, some pictures from days out, some pictures of them I've taken. 

"You took this one?" He asks pointing to my favourite, it's a picture of Georgia. Its from summer, the sun's on her face and she's looking in my direction but not at the camera, she didn't know the photo was being taken. It was a windy day, but we were still lying out in my back garden in shorts and crop tops, in the picture her hair's blowing in front of her face but you can still see her features. She looks gorgeous, big blue eyes, red natural lips, her cute button nose, her freckled cheeks. 

"No Aaron took that one, it's my favourite photo of her." I say proudly, Aaron's an amazing photographer, and Georgia an amazing model. "She looks so beautiful." 

"She does, he's a good photographer." He says giving me an approving look. "Is she the one that threw a drink on you?" He asks in a more joking tone, I laugh. 

"No, that's Georgia in the picture. Maya was the one that threw the drink at me." I say, his face drops slightly. 

"Oh right," Neither of us knowing what to say at the mention of Maya's name. "Is this your friend that was dancing with you the other night?" He asks, and I swear he winks at me. 

"Yeah that's the one, good dancer isn't she?"

"I seem to remember you weren't so shabby yourself." He takes a step closer to me, so we're barely a metre apart. 

"Mind you, you probably danced with quite a few girls that night." I shoot back, not stopping him when he comes even closer. "Might be getting confused with another girl."

"Nah I definetley remember you, non of the others were as shit as you." 

"Hey!" I say shoving him in the chest, he barely moves, losing his balance momentarily - needing only to step back and immediately regaining it. His hands reach up and grab my wrists, and pull me towards him so are bodies are touching. 

"Maybe you should show me your moves again, prove me wrong." His voice is laced with sexual suggestion. 

"Hmm maybe, I feel like it would be more beneficial for you to show me your moves." I joke. 

"You wanna see my moves?" He asks, and the way hes looking at me combined with his intense voice sends a shiver down my spine. 

"I meant your dance moves." I mumble, back tracking. He grins down at me, his teeth are straight apart from two of his bottom ones, that cross behind each other. 

"What else could you of meant?" He lets go of my wrists and breaks out into dance, his long limbs moving oddly in every direction. I burst out laughing at his goofyness, falling onto the bed. "Can't handle my moves?" He asks doing the robot moonwalk looking down at me. 

"They're too good for me to handle." I manage to get out between laughs. Still grinning he flops down onto the bed and starts jabbing me in the sides, tickling me. "No Elliott, please, I'm so ticklish!" I squeal and wriggle, but his weight is on my legs and I cant move away from him. "Elliott!" He keeps tickling me as a giggle into the pillow beneath me. "You're evil." 

"Devil in disguise, baby." He says, stopping, and looks down at me, his mouth in a half smile. I notice how his tanned cheeks are blotched slightly pink, then suddenly his lips are on mine, and we're kissing. His lips are so unbelievably soft, plump and full. But there's a nagging thought in the back of my head from earlier. 

"Elliott, you don't mind that I'm seventeen do you?" I ask, pulling away, shyly, not wanting to ruin the moment. 

"Not if you don't mind me being nineteen-"

"Nearly twenty." I interrupt. "I don't mind, sorry." I smile at him.

"Good." He says then kisses me again. Only a few seconds go before he pulls away again. "This is not why I wanted to walk you home by the way, I didn't know your parents wouldn't be in. I genuinely wanted to make sure you got home safe." 

"I'm glad you did."