A/N: Hallo! There is a little spice in this chapter, we're talking a few red pepper flakes, maybe mild salsa at most. If enough of you can't handle the heat however, just let me know and I will mark it Mature. Anyways Enjoy~
When morning came around, I realized the amount of room I had on the bed had decreased, by a lot. I moaned and tried to spread out, but a strong arm wrapped around my waist and crushed me further into the cushions. I felt like I was going to suffocate and if there was one thing, I hated more than getting sick was claustrophobia. Seeing that pigs would have to fly before George would fall asleep next to me, I figured Bill must've been teasing me.
"Bill can you get up. There’s not enough room on this bed for two people." I felt my back vibrate and the sound of laughter soon filled my ears. "Bill seriously, you have your own bed!"
"Wow, I didn't know you mistaking me for another man would hurt so much."
My eyes shot open and I quickly turned around. The scent of strawberries invaded my senses.
“What are you doing here?” My lips were only a few inches from Greyson's. I looked into his cloudy eyes and he looked back at mine. His gaze made me feel awkward. It was like he was expecting me to do something.
“Good morning to you too,” He chuckled.
“You know, you can’t use Dee as an excuse for being in bed with this time, right?” I looked down at his lips, feeling heat rise in the back of my neck.
“I know,” Greyson’s lips broke into a smile.
“So, then why are you here?” I looked back up unsure if I would like his response.
“That depends, are you asking why I’m here in this house, or,” Greyson lifted his hand toward my face and I flinched. He waited for me to calm down before brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “are you asking me why I’m lying here with you.”
My heart was beating so fast it felt like it was short-circuiting the rest of my body.
“I don’t think this is what friends do,” My eyes watched his face intently.
“I can move if you want?” Greyson’s face remained calm.
I paused for a moment to think about it, but then got mad at myself for actually letting this guy lie next to me. I nodded.
Greyson lifted his arm off of me and shimmied two inches away.
“Moved,” He said breaking into a full smile.
I wanted to hit him, but even I had to admit that was clever. Did he do this with everyone he was interested in.
“I- I don’t- I don’t know how to do this,” I said struggling to say what I think is right and how I actually feel.
I couldn’t deny that there was a strange connection between us, but this feeling was new to me and I wasn’t sure I really wanted it.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Greyson said closing the gap between us once more. “I’m just here if you need me.”
“You shouldn’t say things like that, unless you mean it,” I swallowed.
“I do,” He whispered.
Crap.
Before I even realized what I was doing, my lips were pressed against Greyson’s. They were cooler than I remembered and gave me goosebumps. His leg slid over mine as he moved his hand around to the back of my head to play with my hair. In one fluid motion, he was on top of me, yet his lips never left mine. I closed my eyes as his tongue dared to invade my mouth and I suddenly got hungry for strawberries. When I finally dropped my guard, Greyson stopped kissing me and started nibbling at my neck.
"Greyson, stop!" I said realizing that this, whatever it was, had gone too far. Without another word he lifted his head and got off of me.
“Sorry, too much. I get it.” Greyson laid back down on his back and put some space between us.
I looked at him still breathing heavy. He listened and took me seriously. My chest felt tight against my skin and I wasn’t sure if I was having a panic attack or not.
“Is it okay if I just lie here?”
I nodded and for a little while we just watched each other. It was strange. I’ve never been this comfortable with anyone other than Dee. But this was different than what I had with Dee. I couldn’t understand it. I’ve barely known Greyson for more than a couple days, but here we were lying in the same bed. I fell asleep wondering if Greyson was feeling the same things.
When I awoke for the second time that morning, I heard the sounds of vegetables getting chopped up and a sizzling fire. I sniffed the air hoping to smell something delicious. Instead, I smelt the deadly combination of strawberries and something wild.
My eyes snapped open and I saw Greyson snoozing soundly next to me. He actually looked kind of peaceful and not trying to act flashy. The sound of oil popping in a pan reminded me that Greyson and I weren’t alone.
My heart raced, if George found some strange guy in house, he probably wouldn’t be happy and would kick me out. I gently shook Greyson, but he wouldn’t budge. I tried to shake him again, but when that didn’t work, I panicked and did the only other thing I could think of.
I pushed him off the couch.
Greyson’s head hit the table and his eyes immediately snapped open. He let out a loud scream and quickly covered his mouth to muffle out his voice.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen!" I whispered.
"Well, what did you expect would happen when you pushed me off the damn couch?!" Greyson groaned as he my hands away from his face.
"I said I was sorry!" I looked around the room anxiously. "It’s your fault for lying on the couch, in the first place."
"My fault!? How is this my fault?” Greyson’s voice grew louder. “You’re the one who got drunk last night and I was called to take care of you."
Greyson stood up and glared down at me.
"Oh, so that's the reason you're here isn't it!?” I stood up to meet his gaze. “I told you I can handle myself!"
His face was inches away from mine. Our breathing had gotten heavier from the shouting and at this point, I wasn't sure if he was going to fight me or kiss me. He dared to step closer to me so, that I had to tilt my head up higher. I gritted my teeth and-
"Hey you two!"
Both our heads twisted toward the kitchen.
George was by the entrance holding a spatula. "There are people still trying to sleep. So, would you kindly shut the hell up."
We both just blinked dumbly at him.
"I also made breakfast," George said more calmly. “So, come and eat when you’re done doing… Whatever this is.”
George waved the spatula in our general direction before going back into the kitchen.
I looked back at Greyson and his nostrils flared at me. Without saying another word, I just turned my heel and tried to walk the other way, but Greyson's long arms pulled me back. His hand snaked around my neck while the other around the small of my back. His lips smacked against mine and he kissed me hungrily. I punched his chest angrily. Now was definitely not the time to be putting moves on me. He wouldn't budge, so I tried biting his lower lip to make him stop, but that only egged him on.
I punched him in the jaw and that seemed to do the trick.
"Knock it off!" He let go of me and we were both huffing again. “I don’t understand you!”
"Pay back." He grinned.
I growled and just went into the kitchen. At the table, there were stacks of French Toast covered in syrup and butter. I licked my lips subconsciously. I was starting to feel the affects of last night and food would definitely cure it.
"So, what do your Saturday morning plans look like?" Greyson asked pouring extra syrup on his plate.
"I was planning on going to work." I said grabbing some toast.
"Work on a Saturday? That sucks, why don't you hang with me instead." Greyson reached for the same piece of French Toast I was going for, and our forks had a mini duel before he unfortunately won.
I sighed and went to reach for another piece.
"I don't think hanging out with you for an entire day alone is a good idea." I said honestly. "Hey! could you stop that!"
I had lost another battle for French Toast.
"Let me feed you, and you won't have to worry about getting your own piece." Greyson grinned as he took a bite of his meal.
I looked at him like, he had grown an extra head. Was he actually serious?
"Greyson, I'm not a baby I can feed myself."
My gaze shifted to George. He was sitting next to us eating his breakfast and doing a sudoku puzzle in a newspaper. I vaguely remembered our conversation from last night and I frowned. Something happened between him and Bill. However, he told me not say anything about it, and if there's one thing I'm good at, it’s keeping secrets.
My eyes wondered back to my empty plate. I sighed and stood up.
"Hey, where are you going?" Greyson said with a mouthful of food.
"To make cereal. It's too early to be playing your games, not to mention I feel a killer head ache coming on.”
This is why I shouldn’t drink.
I walked over to the cabinets on the wall and started searching for bowls. I could hear the sound of shuffling of footsteps above me and heard them travel down the staircase.
Bill entered the kitchen with sleepy eyes.
"Something smells good," he yawned. I watched him sniff the air a few times before crinkling his nose in disgust. His gaze narrowed as he stared directly at Greyson.
"Bathroom Guy, what are you doing here." Bill looked at him with distaste. He sat down next to George, which was my original seat and poured himself some juice.
"My name isn't Bathroom Guy,” Greyson bared his teeth. “And George invited me over."
"Really?" Bill tilting his head toward George, who nodded.
"This is Greyson Vasiliev. We-."
George froze for a beat, like he was trying to remember where he knew Greyson from.
“We grew up in the same neighborhood.” Greyson said looking directly at me, as if it was to inform me and not Bill.
"Like The Vasiliev?!" Bill nearly spit out his drink.
“Are you some kind of big shot?” I asked heading to the fridge for some milk.
“Some might think my family is.” Greyson responded.
“I don’t,” Bill said boldly.
It was clear that Bill was trying to get a rise out of Greyson and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in the middle of a fight.
"Almond milk?" I said changing the subject and picked up a carton from the fridge.
"Yeah George and I are both Lactose intolerant."
"Oh, me too" I said pouring the milk into my bowl. "Why don't you guys drink lactose free milk, that's what I do anyways."
George and Greyson both shared a look.
"Because I don't like the taste of it," George said in his usual grumpy tone.
I gave a slight, awkward shrug and sat next to Greyson.
Breakfast was as normal as it could get for four dudes who don’t who don’t hang out together. I wanted to talk about sports, or cars, or whatever guys usually talked about, but I knew nothing so, I said nothing. Bill however, reveled in the conversations. He talked about anything, from crappy classes to places he wanted to go for spring break. He made you want to talk.
Well, almost made you want to talk. Every time, I got close to jumping into a topic, it would change, usually because Bill and Greyson would have a disagreement and George would shut it down.
It was around the third topic change when, Greyson started brushing his foot against mine. Yet, when I tried to question him about it, he would always be engaged in some kind of conversation. So, naturally I thought he kept doing it by mistake, but then it became more frequent.
In order not to make a big deal out of it, I tried swatting his leg away, but he grabbed my wrist and wouldn’t let go. He loosened his grip just enough so he could lock his fingers in with mine.
At first, I tried resisting, if Bill or George caught us, it might make things awkward. But eventually I gave in and Greyson started rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. His hands were much larger than mine and cold and smooth to the touch. I thought for a moment this is what normalcy was like.
Then, without any warning, it felt like my organs were put through a paper shredder.
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