Little Death - A You Me At Six Fanfiction

Chapter 3 - Liquid Confidence

Chapter 3- Liquid Confidence

‘If one drink, could make tonight, slip your mind then you

Should drink up, so you can convince yourself that I’m cute’

~

He pushed me up against a wall, hands roaming up and down my body with a need that made me dizzy with want. I groaned as his lips attacked mine, revelling in their soft saltiness. He pressed up against me and I stifled a lusty moan.

“Daisy, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed into my ear.

I groaned even harder, desperately wanting some friction. How wanton I felt. How free.

“Do you want me Daisy?” he said between kisses and I could only nod.

~

I was awakened from my daydream from a buzzing in my pocket. Using my super ninja powers, I stealthily sneaked my phone out of my pocket for a quick check. Miss didn’t suspect a thing; just kept rambling on about ships and pirates and treasure or something and all I could think about was ‘I ship Johnlock.’ – don’t judge me.

The screen flashed up. One new message. From ‘Danny Flint-stone.’

As expected.

Dan and I had been texting each other non-stop for two weeks, after the whole Scott incident. We’d become so close, it was hard to know where he ended and I began (no, not in a dirty way, who do you think I am? Some sort of dirty, cheap ass hooker? I’ve got a little bit of class people. Only a little)

‘Omg I had a dream I was a mad scientist... A bad ass one though, like Tony Stark,’ the message read and I have to stifle a laugh as I hastily though slyly wrote my reply.

 I wanted so ardently to tell him about my dreams. But I couldn’t. Because they were about him and his friendship meant more to me now than a stupid attempt at pushing it further when we weren’t ready for it.

Most of my dreams consisted of me and him getting our groove thing on, or a romantic date where we got our groove thing on, or we were at school in lessons and got our groove thing on. Some were sweet. Others were mannerisms close to creepiness reserved for the likes of extreme-fangirls. Some were just plain wrong.

I don’t have a dirty mind, I have a sexy imagination.

‘Hahaha, omg, Avengers is the best superhero film ever. Jeremy Renner is so badass,’ I sent back before slipping my phone back into my hoodie pocket. The exercise turned out to be futile; my phone was out again within a few seconds, his replies fast and funny.

‘Yeah, and Captain America’s arse. Mmmm, if I wasn’t straight and he was a chair…’ I let out a loud snort of laughter. The historical babble that had been streaming out incessantly out of our history teacher’s mouth – who I’m pretty sure pre-dates the stuff she’s talking about – suddenly stopped.

“Yes, Miss Bridges?” she raised her uni-brow at me, “you find the fact that the African people got forcibly removed from their land and sold into slavery amusing?”

“Um… no? I just remembered this funny joke about pirates. Actually my friend… er… Pedro told it me when he was a pirate but that was years ago, when he lived in Somalia,” I rambled on, horrified at the word vomit that I was spurting out but unable to stop myself.

The uni-brow went up again. “What is this hilarious pirate joke then?”

I stared at her, willing her to just move on and ignore what she knew was going to be a train wreck of epic proportions. But she’s a stubborn mule. Looks like one too.