Book two: Impractical (Crawford and Chris Collins)

Chapter 15

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I wake up from that lustful passionate night, sore.

I limp out of bed, and jumped into the shower.

"May I join?" Crawfords voice comes from outside of the curtain.

"How could I say no?" I grab his hand and pull him in.

He bring me face to face with him as he intertwines both of our hands together, pushing me against the shower wall.

"What's this about?" I smirk and connect my lips to his, seperating my fingers from his to play with his wet hair.

"Chris is still not home," we smile and i jump, putting my legs around his waist.

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New love: How could I explain it? We can't keep our eyes, hands, bodies, or lips off of eachother.

So that's why we sat in the living room, having a heated, intense makeout session.

My phone played the text tone.

"Forget the phone," Crawford mumbles.

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

"God damnit," I role my eyes as I look at my phone.

'Ellie.' -Chris 5 minutes ago

'Ellie.' -Chris 2 minutes ago

'Ellie.' -Chris now

'I'm at the store, need anything?' -Chris now

'Don't need anything. Fuck off.'

I throw my phone on the floor and smash my lips back on to Crawford's, resting my fingers in his belt loops.

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******3 Years Later******
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"Miss, visiting hours are over." The nurse pushes me out of the hospital room.

Why am I visiting a hospital room?
Maybe because Crawford got in a car crash, which had broken his wrist and leg. Though he has been in acomma for a month.

This is where I am. I am now 21, I'm in my Junior year of college, and madly inlove with Crawford Collins. I don't work, and now I live with Max, Max's girlfriend named Cari, and Crawford.

I waited on the bench as Chris honked the horn saying he was outside.

I drag myself out, wishing to be within Crawford's body heat. I was hungover, partly drunk, and definitely depressed.

"Hi. Chris," was all I had strength so say.

"Hey, Eliana," he slightly smiles, obviously faking it. All month, I have been staying over at his house.

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After two hours of drinking and talking about our problems, we sat on his bed.

"You.... got clothes?" I slur, both laughing at my forgetfulness

"In the drawer.." he also slurs, trailing off.

I look into the drawer seeing a condom in the drawer, "nice," we laugh.

I undress myself, changing into a big shirt, as he looked me up and down.

I stumble over to him, putting my hands on his neck, him sliding his hands on my waist, connecting our lips. I knew this was wrong.

But we had sex anyways.

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So I went to San Diego. I shit you not my parents, aunt, uncle and brother were CONSTINTLY drunk. I'm a young minor though. 😥