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
The scent of cigarettes and alcohol filled my nostrils as the resting curls lay beside me. It was definitely something I could get used to waking up to. I nestled myself into his neck, draping a kiss across the hickeys I'd planted, chuckling quietly to myself. He suddenly shivered, eyes snapping open as they connected with mine, a look of realisation drawing in upon his features; a warm smile taking over. "Good morning." He said, voice deep and groggy.
"Morin'." I smiled back. "Your breath smells." I said, scrunching up my nose slightly. He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
"And yours smells like a garden of roses, sweetheart." He mumbled, kissing my nose gently before nestling into the crook of my neck and descending into light snores. At least he didn't get all silent and embarrassed like John...
I stroked his hair softly and smiled in content, his arms wrapped around my waist as his mouth was slightly open with sleep. This continued on for roughly an hour or so and I realised I failed to grow tired of staring at his face. He was truly beautiful, no matter how riddled with bad habits.
He stirred awake, pulling me a little closer as he did so. "What time is it?" He asked, now completely awake and glancing up quickly with a gentle scowl.
I shrugged my shoulders, looking over his mass of curls toward the clock upon my wall; one-forty-three. "Almost two." I stated.
"In the afternoon?" He asked, gaping slightly. I nodded. "Fuck." He cursed, leaping up and wobbling slightly on his legs, still only dressed in socks. I laughed at the sight and he smiled bashfully, shaking his head and retrieving his clothing items from the floor. He placed the jeans upon his legs and shoes on his feet but took one glance outside and decided to hand me the shirt, shaking his head once again. "It looks hot out there." He stated, taking hold of his jacket in his hand. "Well?" He pressured, expectantly, to which I raised an eyebrow. "Get dressed. We're going back to the apartment to speak with Duff about that Grace girl." I widened my eyes, realisation settling in, before getting to work and throwing on the shirt he'd handed me, pairing it with a pair of denim shorts I never wore. I wasn't a leggy kinda girl. I barely got time to brush my hair before I was ragged out of the door and we were on our way, discussing things strange whilst laughing uncontrollably.
"You would not do that." He said, tone light and amused.
"Well I fucking did." I shrugged, laughing along. "And I got in so much trouble for it - I can still remember the looks I received. It was amazing, honestly, one of the best days of my life."
"So you were, what, like eleven at the time?" He asked. I nodded. "And you got dared to pants every kid in the line?" He chuckled slightly. "But you didn't just bring down the shorts. You brought it all down." I laughed and shrugged innocently, it was an accident. "In the Christmas Nativity?"
"What can I say; I was a daredevil." I grinned.
"Was?" There was a glimmer in his eyes. I shrugged.
"Can be."
He stopped walking and surveyed our surroundings, pondering deeply before it was as though a lightbulb was lit within his very eyes. "You see that pole?" He asked. I nodded in response, raising an eyebrow. "Dance on it."
"That's fucking easy." I said, rolling my eyes with a cocky smirk before taking myself over to the metal thing with oozing confidence. The street wasn't exactly desolated, but it definitely wasn't crowded, a small group of boys just outside a food shop. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched in delight as I slowly spun around the pole, doing a few strange moves that seemed to impress both him, the few boys littered around and a girl with little to no clothing on. She approached me as I finished and smiled slightly, handing over a note with a number messily scribbled along it. "You'd be a good asset." She said, strutting away as I frowned and looked back, only to find Slash laughing uncontrollably and stumbling onto the floor. I made my way over and hauled him up, confused. "Who was she?"
"A hooker, man, she wants you to be one too." He hooted, wrapping an arm along my shoulder. My eyes widened and I ripped up the note, throwing it behind me with a little shudder; selling my body to all of those greasy men for a bit of cash? No chance. This, of course, caused him to tumble into further fits of laughter - which only grew as we entered the block of their apartment. The door was swung open and Steven rushed out, enveloping me in a tight embrace, knocking all the air out of my lungs. "Sloan!" He exclaimed.
"Stevie!" I replied, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster - which, to be honest, was quite a fucking lot. Slash was still grinning like a complete idiot, shaking his head before wandering into the apartment and mumbling something about a 'fix' or something. I knew he was still on smack, but we'd had such a wonderful time together I decided to not bring it up and ruin our momentum.
"Hey, Sloanie." Duff greeted, grinning as he sipped from the large vodka bottle.
"Hello, Duffy." I said, smiling brightly in his direction. Izzy and Axl were no where to be found, so I took a seat between the two blondes and allowed my eyes to fall on the song blaring through MTV. "Are we still meeting that girl... What's her name... Gracie?"
"Grace." He corrected. "And yeah, sure. Whenever y'all are ready." Slash came back in not too soon after, taking a seat upon the floor between my legs as I found my hands naturally intertwining with his heavy locks of curls. Duff and Steven both noticed, shining each other that 'I fucking knew it' look, to which I caught and simply rolled my eyes at. We all sat, in silence, for a pretty long time, but it was fine because we were all so comfortable in each others presence it seemed natural.
"We'll be meeting Grace tonight." Duff began, voice slightly rumbled and slurred from the minutes of silence. "Roughly about Seven at some Club." He mentioned the name, though I didn't listen.
"What's the time now?" Slash asked, looking toward the drunk blonde.
"I don't fucking know, man." He said.
"Five." Steven said, nodding. "Y'all have time."
"Not much." I mumbled, though still, we continued to watch the television as I stole a few drinks from Duffs lovely bottle and Slash turned to glare protectively - to which I'd simply roll my eyes and send a small smile, playing with the tangling curls falling from his head.
