First time I ever copped out and wrote fluff. I am so ashamed.
They were in the library again, both inhabiting the chair Egan had decided was her official reading chair. She was still working on the first black hard bound book, the other two in a neat stack on the table next to her. She was biting her thumbnail in concentration, her forehead scrunched down overshadowing her dark eyes.
“Let’s run off to Washington.”
“Better idea. Let’s run off to my mom’s house.”
“How’s that better than running off to Washington?”
“Seriously, you have to ask?” She nodded. “For one, my mom would cook for us. That in and of itself it a very big deal. Her food knocks the fuck out of you every time you try it.”
“Sounds painful” she murmured quietly.
“And if we ran off to my mom’s house, we’d get to see Mikey and Frank again, and you could meet some of my other friends too. We could have a party kind of deal, a get together you know?”
“Wow!” she leaned forward from her position on his lap where she had previously been reclining while reading and half-twisted to look him in the eye. “Aren’t you sociable. Why so anxious to throw a party all of a sudden? You barely spoke to anyone for months.” Gerard had told Egan about the time before her, after the break up. She was filled in on his previously adopted coping habits, including his avoidance of humans.
“I don’t know. I’ve been a lot…’happier’ is the correct sentiment I’m pretty sure—as of late. And I think you’re behind it.”
“Me?” she half squeaked, batting her eyelashes in over-exaggerated flattery. “I feel incredibly special.”
“You are special.”
“Not in the don’t-eat-the-paste kind of way, I hope.”
“No, in the I-want-to-tell-everyone-I-see-that-you-belong-to-me kind of way.”
“Watch it buster. I belong to no man.” She said, turning back around and settling against his chest. “Not even beautiful, musical, black and white half Italian half Scottish half bat men.”
“Whatever you say little feminist. Think I can belong to you at least?”
“Oh yes,” she said, flipping a page, marking it with her finger and leaning her head all the way back to press her lips lightly against his. “You are most definitely mine.”
“I can live with that. Got any shackles? Handcuffs maybe? I like it kinda kinky.”
“You haven’t seen kinky, baby. Kinky is having a needle pierce your skin repeatedly, branding you forever with a symbol of devotion and dedication to your lover. That is kinky. Think you’re up to it?”
“Forget it. I’m not getting a tattoo.”
“If you get a tattoo I’ll get impregnated.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Egan danced around the kitchen, opening the refrigerator, closing the refrigerator, rifling through the pantry, searching all the cupboards, heading back to the refrigerator and so on. They were going to Gerard’s mother’s house to eat dinner with “the rest of the guys from the band” and Egan was already panicking. Gerard sat with a slightly dazed expression on his face. It was six in the morning and he was trying to work up the courage to get up from his seat and make a pot of coffee. How Egan had dragged him down here at this God forsaken hour in the first place eluded him. She was a miracle worker to say the least.
“Should we bring anything? Like, a casserole maybe? Or, um…mixed fruit?” Gerard dropped his head onto the marble top with a light thunk. “Gerard!” she squealed in frustration. Through the fog, he registered the humor of the situation and snickered into the cold surface. “This is not funny! Now pay attention to me when I’m speaking to you please.” He grunted in her direction and lolled his head around a little, leaving teeny drool smudges on the shiny surface. Egan sighed, then walked quietly to his side and whacked him smartly on the side of the head. It didn’t have much effect. She turned sharply and began the treacherous ascent to the coffee cupboard via the sink as she had previously attempted some weeks ago. Gerard winked one eye open in time to catch her stumble as she stepped from the cushion of the stool she had dragged over (That was what that God-awful racket was) onto the sink ledge. He groaned quietly into the countertop and heaved himself to his feet.
“No you don’t. Come here now, get down from the sink.” He held his arms out and made come-hither motions with his hands. “Come on, I haven’t got all day, let’s not wait for the grass to grow. Down you come.”
“No. I have to plan for your mother’s and you’re being no help at all and I really need your help as you know her better—“
“Well, she is my mother.”
“—And the only way you’ll be any help is if I get you properly caffeinated. So just let me make the damn coffee and zip it!” She stamped her foot in frustration and almost toppled backwards.
“No. You’ll end up inadvertently killing yourself and it will make me feel sad because you died trying to get me coffee. Dying in the line of duty is an honorable way to go, but I don’t think I can handle the guilt. Now come here.” Egan glared down at him. “You heard me little girl. Here. Come here.” She didn’t move. He stepped forward so that his face almost touched her knee caps and looked straight up to her face. Or, he tried, but…
“I can see up your shirt from here. I didn’t think you slept in a bra, but now I can see for myself.” She promptly sat down on the divider between the sink—a most uncomfortable perch—and scrunched her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her calves for maximum protection.
“See through that, creep.” She said and stuck out her tongue while grimacing a very unladylike face at him. And with that, he scooped her up into her arms and carried her over to the island where he deposited her, still scrunched, where his head had previously lain. She flipped him off.
“Aw, now don’t be like that.”
“Don’t tell me how to be.”
“Don’t be petulant and I won’t tell you how to be.”
“I see we’re returning to obscenity.”
“If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
“Come on now. I just didn’t want you to fall.”
“Shoulda left well enough alone. I was trying to do a nice thing.”
“So was I.” She turned her head, refusing to look at him. “Egan?”
“What d’you want motherfucker?”
“I’m sorry. I wanted you to be safe. Forgive me?” He looked at her with sleepy eyes and bed head and his face was so open and sincere that she just couldn’t help it. She unclenched her body and lowered her legs so they dangled off the edge of the large table. He stepped forward to stand between them.
It was. Dead. Sexy. She felt her heart catch a beat. It was just so hard for it to keep up a steady rhythm while she was looking in his eyes. The way his eyes smiled, even when his mouth didn’t, always got to her. He gave her adrenaline rushes in her stomach.
It felt good.
He leaned forward and nuzzled his face against the side of her neck. She felt goose bumps stand to attention all along her shoulder blades. “Thanks” he whispered right under her ear in a husky morning voice. She had to work to control a shiver starting at the base of her spine that wanted to rock through her body. Unbidden, a hand drifted up to his hair, wrapping loosely in the curly mess at the nape of his neck. He snaked an arm under hers and wrapped it around so his hand was gripping her shoulder blade, fingers pointing towards him. He used this as leverage to lean forward and graze his teeth at her most sensitive spot, right under the curve of her jaw where her pulse beat. The shiver won out this time and darted through her spine, tensing all the muscles of her back. She pointed her toes and locked her abdomen—God this felt good—taking a deep breath in, hold, exhaling. Those teeth knew—mmm—just where to go—oh! “Sure you won’t marry me?” he growled. The vibrations from his vocal cords thrummed to her own, almost making her hum. Right now she’d do anything as long as he’d get back to work on her neck.
“Don’t stop.” She sighed, leaning forward to rest her head on his shoulder, neck bare and accentuated towards his mouth.
“You don’t play fair though.” she mumbled into his jaw.
“I never said I would.”
“Maybe later” he replied nonchalantly as he released her, stepping back from his position between her knees. He watched her small mouth fall open in shock and disbelief. Heading back to bed, he called over his shoulder “You won’t need anything, mom’s got the food covered. Just look purdy. You’re meeting new people today.”
Author’s Note: I vowed never, never, never, never, NEVER to write filler chapters. Ever. Like, EVER. But I did. This was actually written, two, three, maybe four days ago but I intended to add more on to it. And I tried, I really did, but the words refused to come. I apologize, acknowledge that this is unadulterated fluff and realize the error of my ways. I just haven’t been able to make the writing thing happen all way. I am in the middle of Gateway/examing. It sucks. So read, rate and review if you think it’s worth the effort.
P.S. Anyone ever heard of the band Tokio Hotel? Because I just discovered them, and at first I didn’t like them, but I got their entire 16 track album on iTunes for cheap, and I went on YouTube and researched and listened to their songs some more, and now I’m kind of into them. And the fact that I find the lead singer and the guitarist to be smoking fucking hot doesn’t hurt their case in the least. Go check ‘em out. Or at least Google their name. You’ll see what I mean (I hope). And also, three guesses what book she's reading. Hint: It's a trilogy (So far). Hint again: She says she wants to run off to Washington. That state is important.