5 Seconds of Summer Preferences

#20 He's a Greaser

Ashton: Walking into the gas station you darted back to the refrigerators grabbing some bottles of Coke. You had come alone but didn’t plan on leaving alone. Today was the day you were going to talk to Ashton Irwin. He was the handsomest thing you had ever seen and you felt like your entire life revolved around him. He stood behind the counter helping his younger brother and sister-and no you did not find it odd that you knew who they were- with their homework. He dropped out last year when his dad left to help with the bills for schooling for his siblings. His deep smile flickered my way as you approached. Drawing your breath, you placed the Cokes on the counter letting him ring them up. As his chirpy tone laces over the price you handed over the bill, trying to remember to breathe as his fingers brushed over your hands. “Have a nice day!” he giggled pushing the clinking bottles your way.

Okay, this was it, was I was waiting for, you thought, you slowly pushed the other three back that way. His pride looked hurt slightly, which was what you didn’t want, but the little boy smiled.

“I like her Ash.” He mumbled playing with the box of cigarettes on the counter.

“We didn’t need that.” Ashton grumbled.

“Ashton!” the girl snapped at him.

“Thank you...”

“Y/N.” you filled in for him. “And I just thought you could use it.”

“Thank you Y/N, stop by again tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” You assured leaving popping the top of your bottle

Michael: You didn’t live in the best neighborhood. You weren’t where the hoods were, but were as close and you could get to it. Walking home was the scariest thing, but you had to do it. The rowdy greaser boys were acting out like they always did, but this time with some alcohol. One of the older ones swung your way drunkenly laughing. “Heyy babbby. Why don’t you let me walk you home?” he asked pushing into your side.

You kept walking, that was your strategy. Keep walking and you’d be fine. The boy didn’t stop though, he continued pushing his body over yours. “Stop.” You managed to squeak with no avail. His drunken breath hit your face shutting your eyes as you braced yourself for whatever was doomed to happen.

But nothing ever did. A gust of wind pulled him off you, and down to the hard concrete sidewalk. A boy clad in leather with dyed hair was pounding into the guy. Mutters left the leather boy’s mouth about treating women right and how precious of a thing you were. As flattered as you were at the comment, you could only cry at the thought of what could have happened to you.

After a final few punches, the mysterious boy pulled away covered in the others blood. You recognized him as Michael, one of the greasers that was a little older than you. You never really talked to him but after this you felt like you owed your life to him. He remained silent as he pulled a cancer stick from his pocket, lit it, and blew the smoke away from your face. You felt your heart rate quicken at how his thick lips pursued around it. Everything became too much as his gently eyes stared at yours unblinkingly. “Thank you, Michael.” You shakily mumbled.