Tattoos and lipstick - Chester Bennington fan fiction

Chapter Twelve

When they woke in the next morning, Mel had her head on top of Chester's bare chest.

When he hopped up to her bed the night before, the moment was awkward, foreign even. They didn't know what to do or what to say. Chester was trying his best not to give in too much, more than he already did by admitting his attraction towards her, by kissing her and, then, by sleeping with her. But it was just sleeping, right?

He looked at her flustered cheeks and there was something about the way she was peaceful with her hair spread on her pillow and the sheets covering her to the neck that made his heart skip a beat. Chester couldn't help but open his arms and pull her up to his embrace, allowing her to rest clinging to him.

Apparently, they didn't dare to move during the night.

"Good morning," Chester said as she stirred in his arms. He has been awakened for almost 15 minutes, and he has been admiring her natural beauty and fighting against his urges.

"'Morning," she muttered, her hoarse voice not being loud enough.

"We have shopping to do before departing," he said, making her green eyes open and stare at him. Something crashed against the walls inside of him and he had to get away from her at that moment. "We need warm clothes. Let's hurry, alright?"

Mel didn't say anything but she did notice the change of behavior when she looked at him, as his melted expression became rigid and he gently pushed her away from his arms and jumped out of the bed, disappearing from the bedroom.

20 minutes later, everything was ready and they were driving away to find stores. Since it was hot in there, they had to find specific stores with snow clothes. It would have been strange if two Americans bought such a warm set of clothes, considering it was almost 100 ºF outside. Not that they would matter, but it would call for more attention to them, which they were not looking for.

Mel walked quietly through the streets, following Chester, who seemed to know exactly where to go. He turned left on a street and then right, making them walk through some kind of coffee shop where several men were drinking and playing acoustic guitar. Mel didn't recognize the music, but the men were singing in unison.

She also didn't completely understand what they were saying, but she was sure they were talking to her.

She ignored, looking forward. That didn't stop them, calling her and complimenting her. Que linda mujer, ven aquí, queremos conocerte. Ven a bailar con nosotros. Mel studied Spanish before and did understand part of they said, but she did her best to ignore the comments.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, as a way to protect herself, and she cursed Chester because he was right. Everywhere she goes, men throw themselves at her as if she owes them anything. What's wrong with men these days? Can't a woman walk on the street? She wasn't even wearing provocative clothes, which, by the way, is not a reason for a man to be an asshole, but there was nothing out of ordinary calling for their attention. Men will always be men.

When she felt a pair of hands snaking around her petite waist, she gasped. Chester was getting too pissed off by the comments he too understood, and couldn't handle the attention Mel was receiving. So, he slowed down, grabbed her by the waist and looked at the men who immediately shut their mouths as he made himself clear Mel belonged to him. At least, that's the message he wanted to pass.

Mel looked up at him, after calming down her flustered cheeks and her racing heart, and saw the pissed off look on his face.

She simply smirked and Chester looked down at her.

"Shut it," he simply said, slightly curling the edges of his lips up, his tight grip pulling her closer as they walked away.

Then, Mel's eyes stopped at a huge screen on the street, indicating the date and time, weather, temperature, and other information, and she widened her eyes as she noticed which day it was. Lowering her head, she continued her walk, in Chester's arms, in utter silence.