An ill mouthed girl with a fiery temper and bad attitude comes across a blonde headed stranger in her bed whilst covered in something strange. His friends are just like brothers and family soon becomes a tight nation to them all as Sloan grows close...
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Sloan
So, my plan failed. Slash knew I was there, he knew I was ignoring him, and he didn't care. I suppose he didn't need to care. I was the asshole who needed to apologise. And I would. If no one else was around. Goodness, my ego was a big issue. "Could you stop stalking the man and go talk to him? Please?" Joel sneered, bored and distasteful. I rolled my eyes and shrugged my shoulders - fuck it - before diving over the counter, clambering across the floor and between all of the rowdy and irritatingly wasted people. I wasn't much better, myself, but I was still pretty pissed off with such a crowd.
I swallowed my pride, tapping him on his leather shoulder and allowing my breath to catch in my throat as he spun around and the scent of alcohol and awful addiction entered my nostrils. "Sloan." He said, detaching from whoever it was standing next to him. Duff noticed me and smiled, shaking his head before continuing with whatever was going on. "I thought you were ignoring me." He was amused, I could tell.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed onto his hand, dragging him over to the back room. "I'm sorry." I said, regret filling my tone. "I'm really fucking sorry, I shouldn't of done any of this-" but before I could finish, the warm sensation of his lips against mine cut me off. Oh, I'd missed this.
I leaned in a little further, wrapping my arms along his neck before sliding my tongue between his teeth, dancing a little with his and deepening the kiss, turning my head a little to allow more access. His hands roamed around me and he suddenly broke apart, the heat leaving as quick as it came. "I missed you." He stated.
"I'm sorry." I apologised again. He nodded his head in understanding, wrapping his secure arms around me and closing me in a tight and caring embrace. I melted into his comforting warmth, holding on tight and inhaling a few rough breaths. "I'm ruining your night." I said, breaking away and watching as he frowned in confusion. "You should go and have fun, I'll see you soon." And I turned around, with some sort of helpless hope he'd stop me and kiss me again, but walked away nonetheless. As I reached the thrillingly cold breeze of the outside, I felt myself deflate a little; he hadn't followed me and he wasn't coming.
*
Alone, dressed in nothing but my underwear with mascara marks steamed down my face and the cheap television blaring MTV was not exactly how I'd pictured this night ending, but as the clock moved along I came to an understanding that Slash was well and truly done. The kiss meant nothing and neither did my apology. I cursed myself for giving in so easily, but couldn't stop the feeling dangling into my stomach every time I imagined the way his lips and hands felt against me. Def Leppard began to blare through the speakers - 'Pour Some Sugar on Me' -and I felt myself on the brink of absolutely fucking balling. I was well and truly in pieces, my hair all over the place, my couch a little dishevelled from countless small hissy-fits thrown within the space of the last hour or so. I didn't know what to do with myself. So, as usual, I drowned my emotions and horrible thoughts with a few bottles of liquor; unsure if alcohol poisoning was just around the corner. But I came to the conclusion, crossing my legs and slouching, that I simply couldn't care less if that were to happen. At this specific moment in time I was so caught up in my sadness that I didn't notice the way I'd stopped crying and the ice-cream tub was empty, I was too busy focusing on why I wasn't good enough and why I had to be such a dick. I really was an utter dick.
