I Can't Forget My English Love Affair// Ashton fic

A/N Hello, friends. This is my first 5sos and hetero fic so please be kind. Enjoy the debut of #Rirwin. ((Also I extended the this chapter a bit not very vital but ay make-out scenes))

Anna's POV

Breathe. That's all I had to do to survive this place. Just breathe. Ofcourse, it was kind of difficult when I was surrounded by sweating, intoxicated people. It was kind of gross, actually. The air was thick with the smell of weed and musty with perspiration. 

This isn't for you, I thought with irriation and mild sadness. Leaving my dorm-room felt like a mistake I was way in over my head when I decided to study abroad. I was in strappy black dress that clung to me in weird places, much like the girls around me. I immidiately grew self-conscious. These chicks were twigs; the type of girls I would envy in school. The type that I would oggle at through a laptop screen. The type that made me want to skip meals.

No, no, no. That's enough of that. I have hips and curves and I belonged Goddamn it. To be quite frank, I was sick of not feeling like I did in the first place. I squeezed through the crowd of grinding club-goers and took a seat on a bar stool. I cringed when my thighs seemed to splat. You know what I mean, when the fat just kind of plops down and expands.

I sat up, confidently. Posture to kill was a weapon I held quite dearly.

"Hey there, love," the bartender behind the counter said with a thick British accent, making me jump in surprise.  I'd been living in London for weeks now and the accents never failed to catch me off guard. "How'd you like a drink? You look like you could be in use of one right now." He said with an air of flirtation. This douche.

"What makes you think I want to get roofied tonight, love?" I said, mocking his accent towards the end. No matter what I feel like people are making fun of me when they're being nice. So you can guess how fucking amazing I was at making friends in a foreign country. He smirked, almost knowingly. 

"No need to be taking the piss. It's courtesy of the gentleman to the left of ya." He said loudly over the bumping electro music. I could feel the bass rattling my inards. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. I turned to my left to see the 'gentleman' this guy was referring to. 

Holy hell, was my first thought. Even through the strobing lights and dim view of him through the darkness. The man was cute. Hot. Fucking beautiful. I don't think I could've found a word that described him. He looked out of place, yet completely a part of the chaos. It felt as if the whole atmosphere of the club was revolving around him.

Whoever he was, brought up his glass shyly as if proposing a toast. He had this smile... oh my God his smile. The ends of his lips had professional lines of smiling. And by that I mean properly smiling. No middle-school tight-lipped bullshit. He was all teeth.

Realizing I was staring, the bar-tender nudged my arm as he handed me a small glass of whatever the man was paying for. I swallowed my heart that decided to climb up my throat as I held the glass in my hand, returning the motion.

'Cheers' I mouthed to him nervously as we took a drink at the same time. The liquid burned my throat. Then again, when have I ever drank for the taste? We had a staring contest after we finished our drinks.

I mean real grenade-dodging drills over invisible barricades of eye contact. He'd look at my face and jump feature to feature. He was probably taking in my acne scars. I was doing the same. My eyes were taking a stroll around his face actually. I was already captivated by his full lips that he would lick on the ocassion. My palms got sweaty when I tried to just be quaint about us basically eye-fucking eachother. We were only separated by a few bodies and empty stools.

Eventually, I stayed at one spot; his eyes. Those things were works of art, I swear to you. They were hazel-ish from what I could make out and you could tell he was smiling just because his eyes were so bright. My cheeks decided to catch fire and beads of perspiration decided to line my forehead. 

He stood up. He had a long body and muscular arms. 

He was walking in my direction.

 Towards me. In ripped black skinny jeans and shredded vintage looking tank-top.  

Closer and closer...

Fuck when did across the bar seem so far away?

He gave a knowing smirk. It faltered a bit as he ran his long fingers through his light brown curls and gave a nervous laugh. Which was loud as hell, I could hear it clearly through the music.

I looked up at him, faking innocent doe-eyes from my stool. 

"So... my place or your's?"

The air was slightly awkward. He coughed and diverted his eyes. I stood up as well and put my hand under his chin, lifting his head. Even if he was nearly half a foot taller than me. It was time to be bold. We were centimeters apart. Maybe less. We weren't touching besides my thumb trailing the stubble on his jawline. God, he was beautiful.

He lightly brushed his nose against my own. It resembled a feather. Everything about that moment was soft. It wasn't thick with lust, we were just two bodies close in a world of our own. His arms lightly wrapped around my waist and he was tracing shapes into my lower back. I didn't know what to do with my hands anymore. I wasn't one for foreplay; dragging things out only made my hands shake. He basically towered over me. That was until he lowered his lips and connected our lips.

His lips were slightly chapped, but they were so alive. They were plump and soft; his mouth fit with mine perfectly. I was afraid I might break, he made me feel so fragile. My own heart-beat would be enough to make me shatter; it was pounding in my chest with such fervor it scared me. I allowed my hands to intertwine in his hair. I needed him to be closer to me. 

Soon enough, our chests were touching and his hands were gripped to the back of my neck. Our hips were pressed against eachother and I arched my back for our fronts to be closer. I needed to indulge myself in him before he disappears. He licked my lip, awaiting for his tongue to enter. Our tongues were locked together, wandering eachother's mouths. As we pulled away he lightly bit my lip. 

I didn't know how long we kissed, but as soon as my lips were swollen and my head was finding home in the crook of his neck, I missed him already. He got to work on my own neck immediately; sucking and nibbling. He'd leave tender kisses after he licked what would later on be hickies in the morning. My breathing hitched. I was unravelling at his will.

He pulled away and placed both hands on the sides of my face so that I was looking up at him. Our breathing went shallow. I gulped.

"We should go," Ashton said. Hw had the thickest Australian accent I had ever heard. His hand was still resting at the on the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

I made sure to lean into him more before I smirked,

"Whatever you say, Nigel Thornberry."

x.x.x

I APOLOGIZE FOR THIS HORRIBLY SHORT CHAPTER OH MY GOD. This is probably going to be one of the rare times where I write straight fics lol. But seriously make sure to read and comment and vote. Apparently people have goals so for chapter two please get me to five votes or more and a bunch of reads??? I guess?? I hope you guys look forward to this as much as I am :D

With love,

Ellie