After Midnight (a.i.)

34

"There she is!" Calum's the first to announce my entrance as I enter the kitchen, a drunken grin plastered on his lips. Aside from Ashton, who perked up with his dark gaze the second I was in eyesight.  Even with the dim glow of string lights fighting to shine in the darkness of the room, his look was unmistakable. He kept himself more composed than the other boy, but the slight tick in his jaw once he noticed Luke's hand on the small of my back sent a fevered chill down my spine and I approached the group with bated breath.

"I leave you for ten minutes and you're already off your face?" Luke ridicules the boy with a playful snort, stopping in his tracks to let me sneak past him to the island. To those sandy locks that were begging to be tugged between my fingers. He stands leant against the counter behind him, a solo cup held delicately in his strong hand rattling with each tap of his ring clad fingers. He was wearing the same button down, now wrinkled from my fists and a fresh pair of black jeans that hugged his legs with delight, down to his boots as they crossed at the ankles. Stoic as always, he takes a graceful sip of his drink, whiskey I'm assuming, while he stares me down.

I fully intend on losing myself in him. After the probable false alarm on the dance floor, I needed a powerful distraction to keep me sane, out of my head. I needed an icy drink and large hands to consume my mind and grasp onto my wandering head, keeping it in place for a solid moment. And who better than Ashton to keep me occupied from the inscrutable thoughts that are tainting my perspective?

Ashton tilts his head down when I reach him, watching my every move like a hawk. I don't falter under his stare. Instead, I subtly puff out my chest and stand straight. I keep my strides slow and torturous just for him. His jaw ticks again when I'm at his side.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, inhaling the familiar aphrodisiac that is his delicious cologne. It clings to him with allure, urging my senses for more and more. My thighs are already shaking.

"Couldn't find you earlier." Ashton says lowly, keeping his stare straight ahead like he wasn't even speaking to me.  I take a quick glance up, admiring the soft stubble that littered his structured jaw as it clenches.

Part of me wants to break down and tell him everything. Tell him about the creepy encounter and the near heart attack I experienced moments ago. Part of me wanted him to kiss my tears away and pull me in his arms, keep me safe forever in his sanctuary of solace. But the biggest part of me knew I was overreacting, allowing my mind to play tricks on me out of a fearful ambiguity.

"Didn't know you were looking." I mumble to him with the same energy, keeping my tone low and on the brink of nonchalant. His eyes glimmer, but he restrains from looking down to me. He keeps his eyes on the room ahead of us. I feel his fist fidget at my side.

"Made this for you." He mutters, like he wasn't even talking to me. But a solo cup of my own is revealed from behind him when he hands it to me, maraschino and all. I dumbly smile to myself at this gesture, feeling my cheeks blush. I try to hide the glee by bringing the cup to my mouth.

"Your honorary boyfriend wants a shot." He hums with a larger sip. I see him in my peripheral and sigh, his lips glistening with the sticky whiskey once the cup is back down to his side. I fight the urge to grab his neck and lick his mouth clean. Control. 

He's not one for public affection, not when it's already difficult for him in private. I don't want to push him. I want to respect his boundaries and let him take charge at a pace that's comfortable to him.

But it feels fucking impossible with the burning in his eyes and slight curve in his sinful lips.

"Which one?" I ask bravely, subtly knocking my hip into his to add fuel to the fire. His eyes flutter shut with irritation at my comment, but it's all I wanted. I wanted to get him riled up. I wanted him to get mad.  In a split second, my hip is squirming under his relentless grip and I fight the harsh gasp that catches in my throat. His hand splayed over the tiger stripes on my skin, a dominant yet intimate action that had my heart thumping in my ears. Especially when he keeps it there and refuses to move.