𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 |
𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫 𝔟𝔲𝔱𝔩𝔢𝔯
In which, a young singer from Australia and an actor from America star along side each other in a movie where they have to play husband and wife- the only issue is, they can't stand each other.
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sorry for the chapter delay- my dog got run over and then i got married, and then I had to go to hospital and then i had to go to jail because i accidentally ran over a few children with a bus on their way to school, then i got divorced. but here's chapter 17 🕺
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𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍'𝐒 house wasn't too far from the club, and it felt as if one minute I was gazing out of the car window up at the stars and then the next minute we were pulling up into his garage.
With my head still drooped to the side against the headrest, I lazily reached down to unbuckle my seatbelt but when my hand collided with something, I turned my head to see that Austin was already quick to unbuckle the seatbelt for me. I muttered a tiny thank you once it had popped free and slapped my hand against the door handle to sluggishly pull it back; the door opening with a gentle push.
I climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut, the sound of Austin's door closing rang out no more than a second after. I made my way around the car and Austin met me halfway, placing his hand on the curve of my waist as he walked protectively behind me in case I were to trip.
He took us inside his house, switching on every few lights we passed so we could see where we were walking. He brought me into his living room and urged me to sit down on the sofa whilst he went to get some water for me to drink. And before he disappeared out of the room, he turned his head over his shoulder to look at me, "Stay," He had ordered as if I were a dog.
But this dog listened to nobody.
When we had been in the car, I had changed my mind about going back to his and had asked him to drop me home but he, of course, said no. So now that I was alone, I was gonna take matters into my own hands by trying to make a run for it.
When I was sure he was well away from the living room, I stood up from the sofa and began to make my way out of the place; all the while trying to keep my unbalanced movements as quiet as a mouse. I was quite an uncoordinated person in general, so imagine how worse I was when I was heavily drunk.
The door was just down the hallway, and at this moment it wasn't just any door-it was an object of freedom. It was like the feeling of finding money in your pocket after forgetting about it being in there.
Yes. Come to papa.
My hand smoothed against the wall as I trailed down the hallway, an anchor for me to keep my unstable balance from making me trip over. After a gruelling seven seconds, I finally reached the door and smacked my hand down onto the first lock to turn it with an audible click. Then I reached lower to the second lock on the actual handle and fiddled with it a little as I tried to unlock it. I twisted the handle once the lock had clicked, my tongue darting to the side of my parted lips as I focused on the unnecessarily difficult task. And just as I had finally pulled the door open, a hand had pushed it shut.
