Misbehave // Alex Gaskarth

Chapter Eighteen ~ Promise

Songs; Spell On You - Screamin' Jay Hawkins

Heartbreak Girl - Five Seconds of Summer

There's a gif on the side of Alex the bae.

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The strong smell of cheese and tortillas awoke Alex the next morning. He sat up on his bed, yawning as he rubbed his tired eyes with the inner palm of his hand. He was exhausted, but curious to know where his brunette had gone to. But first, he headed to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, happy once the awful smell of morning breath was replaced by a minty taste.

Alex jogged downstairs, skipping the last step as he landed on the floor with a soft thud. His eyes flickered to the living room, cringing slightly at the thrown coffee table on the ground. He regretted acting so irrationally in front of Abella, but the night still managed to end well. He never thought that Abella would trust him enough to give herself up to him like that. Somehow, the fact that he was the only one who had seen her in such a state excited him. As far as he knew, he was the only man who had ever kissed or touched Abella.

Grinning like a proud idiot, Alex strode into the kitchen. He nearly chocked on his own breath once he saw Abella standing in front of the sink, dressed in nothing but his t-shirt from last night. Her hair was tied in a pony tail and she had on a pair of his boxers. He figured she had gotten them from his dresser or something like that. Although it did irritate him that she just looked through his things without his permission, the sight of seeing her dressed in his clothing diminished that irritation within seconds.

Alex quietly walked toward her, the sound of water hitting the sink echoed in the kitchen room. Abella quietly sang the lyrics to an unfamiliar song, unfamiliar to Alex, at least. His arms wrapped around her waist, chest pressed against her back. "Mornin'," Alex greeted, his voice still raspy and groggy from sleep.

Abella smiled and set the half-washed mug down in the sink. She turned around, his arms still grasped tightly around her waist. "Good morning." She smiled brightly and moved to grab a cloth from the counter to dry her hands. Alex pressed their bodies closer, his face buried into the nape of her neck. He breathed in her scent, intoxicated by the mixed aroma of raspberry shampoo and mint.

"I thought," Alex began quietly. "That you were going to be gone by the time I woke up." He hated how much of a sap he seemed to become because of the brunette he clutched in his arms. He'd never felt so intoxicated, so intrigued, so infested in one person before. Hell, he couldn't remember the last woman he had hugged that wasn't Norma.

During his teenage years, Alex vowed to never let himself get played by a woman. Although he loved them, he had to admit that his only attention was for their bodies, not necessarily their faces or personalities. Hence the only reason why he slept with Marci Crawford. She was horribly stuck up and looked down on everyone, but Alex didn't care about that. The only thing Alex cared about was the fact that she had the biggest rack during Freshmen year.

Alex never went on any dates. There were a few of them, but he never considered them dates. He'd take a girl to the movies, but they would usually end up with their tongues down each other's throats by the middle of the film. He never focused on a girl's face, or her personality. All he cared about was her body.

But Abella was the only exception. Sure, he fell in love with her body, but even Alex couldn't deny that his true feelings were directed specifically to her. He was ecstatic about the events of the previous night. The way she moaned his name and ran her fingers through his hair let him know that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way that he did.

Abella looked at him with a small frown on her lips. "Why is that?" She asked. Alex released his grasp and sat down on the kitchen counter, watching as she grabbed a clean plate from the cabinet and headed toward the stove. He tried to keep his full attention on her face, but that proved to be extremely difficult. Especially with the fact that she was standing in nothing but a tight fitted t-shirt and boxers.