one// luke
Coldness runs through my skin and bones, despite all the sweaty bodies that surround me, radiating heat off their flesh. The music is deafening and the lights blinding.
Atleast 4 people have tried to talk to me but I told them all I needed the bathroom and ran to the other side of the house. I don't care if it's mean, I don't want to be here at all, the only reason I am is because of Michael fucking Clifford, and the constant physical displays of affection being performed right under my nose are really pissing me off. The smell of alchohole and weed is making me dizzy, and I'm getting sick of people offering me a drink every five fucking seconds.
Intoxicated bodies move pointlessly along to bad song after bad song, swaying their hips, bopping their heads and swinging their arms like fucking maniacs while I'm here pressed against this damn wall trying as hard as possible to make sure nobody touches me with their sweaty, carelessly swinging arms.
Running my hands through my hair for the hundredth time, I let my eyes scan across the pool of people, making sure not to make eye contact with anyone; that might give them the wrong idea that I actually might want to talk to them. I tap my foot to the beat of the song but even that small movement is rigid and awkward so I stop, joining my hands together across my front and letting them hang there.
I want to get out of here.
I could though, couldn't I?
Michael is probably fucking a random girl in one of the bedrooms upstairs at the moment, and I bet he'll find his way home just fine, so there really isn't a reason for me to stay.
But what if he's drunk out of his mind? He probably is. I should probably stay or else he would get hurt in some way or the other, or do something incredibly stupid.
Not that I really care.
After another 20 minutes of basically doing nothing, I see a girl in the middle of the dance floor. I watch her every move, and to say she's extremely graceful with every turn and jump she does would be an understatement. She is absolutely beautiful, with her brown hair tied back in a pony tail that has been messed up from all the dancing, her pink lips turning up into a smile and her large brown eyes looking straight back at me.
Cursing under my breath, I try to look away, praying that she wouldn't come over. If she did what would I even say?
My prayers go unheard as I see her walking my way, I look behind me to see if she is going to someone else but then realise that all I have behind me is a brick wall.
Shit, shit, shit.
"Why are you down here by yourself? It's kindof depressing watching you look so extremely depressed." Atleast she doesn't seem drunk or wanting to fuck like the other three girls, and that one guy.
"Just waiting for my friend so I can get the fuck out of here." I blurt out a little harshly, making her laugh.
"Well what does your friend look like, I can help you find him?" She offers.
"He's got bright green hair." Wait what are you saying Luke? You don't want her god damn help, just walk away like you did with the others and find Michael yourself.
"I saw him, he went upstairs earlier... With a girl." She tells me what I already assumed.
"Yeah, I guessed he was probably fucking someone while I was down here doing nothing. Asshole." I tell her and she laughs hard. It really is a beautiful sound too, it almost makes me want to laugh along with her.
"What's funny?" I ask her, confused.
"No nothing." She pauses to shake her head and her laughter dies down, before continuing. "I like your shirt."
Subconsciously I look down to my white shirt with a big yellow smiley face right in the middle of it, it was actually my only clean shirt.
"Uh, th-thanks." I trip over my own words.
"It's kind of ironic considering that you don't smile." She points out with a cheeky grin of her own.
"I can smile." I defend, running my tounge over my cold lip piercing, making her raise her brow.
"Prove it."
I give her a sarcastic smile, letting it drop back into my straight face almost as soon as I do it. She just rolls her eyes, her smile not leaving her face. I love her smile, it really does seem genuine, it's the kind of smile that makes everyone around her want to smile too... Even if their goldfish just died or something like that.
"A real smile." She clarifies.
"You can't do a real smile on demand." I counter.
"Who said?"
"I did." That shuts her up for a few seconds as she begins to think what she could say back.
"What if I make you do a real smile?" She wonders, but I immediately shake my head.
"I highly doubt you could." I inform her and she pouts, and it's pretty damn cute.
"Atleast let me try." She begs, "pleaseee?"
Sighing, I think about it for a while, not able to find one reason why I shouldn't. And when I say, "Fine, give it a shot." I don't even regret it.
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a/n so some of the begining of this story will be inspired by one of 5sos' songs and i would say it's pretty fucking obvious but idk. and ik the chapters are gonna be really short whoops sorry ly bye.
