Laughter.
When those who know Noah think of him, the sound of laughter is often the first thing that floods their mind. It is nearly impossible to think of anything else when time spent with Noah is always filled with it. More than often, Noah is the one eliciting the joyous sound.
He often takes pride in making other people laugh, but he takes the most pride in causing you to do so.
In the past six months, Noah has committed every version of your laugh to memory. It's various cadences, the underlying emotions, unspoken messages beneath each of them.
How your nose scrunches when your laughter begins. How you cover your mouth, slightly shaking your head when you try to suppress it. How even your giggles vary. His favorites forming when he kisses you awake in the morning. His lips and soft pleas pulling you from sleep. How it comes out light and sweet, muffled against the pillow as his lips trace your shoulder.
But this laugh, the one that is somehow audible over the laughter and music of the party, is different.
It is his favorite, yet the one you hate the most.
The kind that curls the corner of your lips, involuntarily - your cheeks swelling temporarily as you attempt to keep it in. But you always fail miserably. Your head falls back as you finally give in. When it flows out it is pure, unrestrained, blissful, bubbly, raucous. It leaves you breathless until you can no longer produce sounds and struggle to compose yourself.
It is his laugh. The laugh that only he can pull from you - or so he thought.
Maybe that is why he has a hard time keeping his hand still. The red cup in his hand is picking up the tap of his thumb against its surface, the sound of music and laughter muffling it from his friends seated alongside him. They're too wrapped in their conversation to realize that Noah is thoroughly checked out.
From where he sits, Noah can see you. You're standing in the overly crowded kitchen, a blue cup covering your lips as you attempt to stifle your laughter. A cup he doesn't remember placing in your hands.
Your eyes are wide and focused solely on the guy before you.
He could probably ignore the laugh, but one thing he couldn't have was you focusing solely on someone else. That's what he was for.
Noah doesn't consider himself the jealous type. He doesn't need to be. Yet, he finds himself getting up from where he sits as you release another laugh.
You only feel his presence once he's directly behind you.
Wrapping his arms around you, Noah easily maneuvers your body as far away from your companion as possible. With his arms resting against your chest, he relaxes against you as you instinctively reach up to rub his hand.
He ducks down to kiss your cheek, his lips moving down to gently grace your neck. "Hey, babe."
"Hi." You bite your lip. The giggle rising in your chest slips out as Noah gives you a gentle squeeze, his lips leaving a final kiss against the same spot as before.
There is more to your greeting, but it falls short of your boyfriend's ears as he studies sizes up the guy across from him.
He looks familiar, but he can't quite place the name. He works with you, a face that often pops up in your tagged group photos of co-workers. It is not until your hand tugs against his that Noah realizes you're both waiting for a response from him.
"Huh?"
"Jake..." you repeat, your eyes watching a wave of confusion wash across Noah's face. "He works with me, remember?"
"Oh, yeah. How's it going, man?"
Your body shifts forward uncomfortably as Noah moves so that he can reach forward to shake Jake's extended hand. Keeping his other arm around you, Noah musters up a smile.
"Jake was telling me about his trip to Ibiza with his brother." You begin to explain, Noah nodding as Jake meets his gaze.
He stays that way. Arms secure around you, eyes focused on Jake who can't seem to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. It is not until Jake excuses himself to refill his cup that Noah thinks to blink.
When Noah doesn't move to release you, you somehow manage to spin around in his arms until you're facing him. Only to find, his gaze is somewhere over your shoulder.
"Hi, handsome." You gently tug against the front of his shirt to get his attention. "Haven't seen you around lately."
"Yeah," he lets his gaze drop down to yours, his brow furrowed. "Didn't want to interrupt you and Jake. Looked like you were having a good time."
You both let his words hang in the air. Noah allows his gaze to drift back over your shoulder as you backtrack.
"Oh my goodness," you groan. "Please don't."
"Don't what, y/n?"
"Turn into one of those guys." You huff.
"He's over here telling you some bullshit story just to make you interested in him. He waits until you're not with me to say hi...I can't have you alone with him, not when you're dressed like-" You watch his brows knit together as he struggles to find a way to denounce the dress he'd praised a few hours prior. "this."
Taking a step back, you glance down at the black, form-fitting dress you wore. A soft smile forms as you direct your attention to Noah.
"So my ass doesn't actually look great in this dress?" Your question causes Noah's jaw to tense, his lips pressing together at the hint of a tease in your voice. "Or is that just something you say to girls when you want a date?"
Noah only manages a weak, "that's not the point" before downing the rest of his drink and sitting the empty cup on the counter.
"Alright." Reaching around Noah to sit your drink aside, you ignore his raised brow. Standing directly before him, you lift your hands motioning for him to move closer to you. "Let's get this over with."
"What?"
"Go ahead," you sigh, meeting his gaze. "Stake your claim."
When he doesn't initially respond, you continue.
"Kiss me, grab my ass, make me put on your jacket. Hell, call Jake over to watch you do all three. Whatever you gotta do to get that "this is my girl, try me" look off your face."
"I don't-"
"You do," you giggle, Noah's face softening at the sound. "And while it's actually kinda hot, I don't need my co-workers thinking my boyfriend's a jerk. So, you, Mr. Centineo, need to get this out of your system in the next five seconds. Then, you're going to go be nice to him because I have to work with him."
You anticipate more objection, an attempt to save his ego, but no words come.
Instead, Noah takes your first suggestion.
His palms pressed against your cheeks, holding you in place as his lips move roughly against yours confirming your previously spoken words.
It is a new type of kiss, one which pulls the both of you into uncharted waters. A kiss rooted in pure jealousy, harboring a sense of insecurity you've only ever seen him display in short flashes.
Only, as his touch drifts along the curve of your jaw and into your hair, you realize the kiss is more than that. It is not just merely a jealous kiss, it is one telling you what he will spare telling Jake (at least for your sake) once he keeps his end of the bargain.
You're my girl.
His lips draw you forward as his touch softens. Your arms loop around his neck as you struggle to prevent his lips from leaving yours.
You kiss his lips, venturing right to leave a series of kisses against his jaw.
"Are you good?"
He waits until you tilt your head back, meeting his gaze, to speak.
Nodding, he leans down to give you another kiss. "For now."
