Katie POV

Last night was hilarious. I could barely remember it, the body-shots and various, ‘friendly’ dancing that occurred was... hilarious.

                My speakers still had some soft music playing, and I couldn’t quite make out the lyrics in my early morning grogginess. I rolled over onto my front and pulled at the t-shirt I was wearing, feeling my belt dig into my stomach as I curled up against the body that was lying next to me.

I yawned and looked at him. He smiled and I couldn't help but return it, simply because he was just so... damn happy to be sat there, saying nothing and doing nothing, but just listening and... being.

“You...” I stopped and shut my eyes for a second. If anyone dared to tell me I looked tired right now, I think I’d go out of my way to find a machete and cut them to pieces... at least if I didn’t fall asleep at some point during the process. “You know you’ve got something on your face, don’t you?”

“Hmm?” He looked back at me and I could only assume we were mirror images of each other right now, though his hair was dishevelled and mine... No, mine was as well, I didn’t have any illusions about that. He laughed as he ran his hand down his cheek and realised the makeup was still on his face – where one of us had painted it yesterday night. My stupidly loud giggles joined his and we looked at each other as we calmed – only to have a moment of silence and then another fit of laughter.

“You make a very, very pretty girl; you know that, don’t you?” He laughed again and shook his head.

“This is why I don’t drink with you, Katie, m’dear.” He said in an awful accent, jabbing playfully at my chest.

“You don’t drink with me because I can hold my liquor and you can’t.” I retorted, still grinning, “Though we were both utterly trollied last night.” He laughed at that as well. “Jesus, boy, get a grip!”

“Never!” He rolled over and refused to look at me, though the pair of us were practically shaking with laughter. I pulled irritatedly at my jumper, then realised that someone had been kind enough to give me a blanket to sleep under, but he... he appeared to be quite cold.

“Er...” I paused and looked at him again, “Hey... erm...” He glanced at me over his shoulder, still grinning, “Are you cold, in any way?”

“Kinda, yeah. Why?” I reached out from the blanket and pulled him toward me, simultaneously throwing the cover over the both of us, meaning we were far closer together than we had been five minutes ago. “Oh, right...” He grinned even though we were practically nose-to-nose, and I naturally felt my breath catch as he smirked at me and ran his hand down my side. “Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Hangover?” I barely tried to raise my voice, I felt fine, but if he was hung-over; today was going to be dull. I needed to shower and I needed to actually put some decent clothes on. Mum had decided that as last night was my eighteenth, I was permitted to go out with my other eighteen year old friends, and as such I was blatantly bunking today.

                We’d just meet the others later at the cinema.


                I liked that thought, mainly because I was comfortable as referring to the pair of us as a single unit. Jason, who was currently staring up at the ceiling and making a face as though he had a badger in his mouth, had been part of my life since I was six, and he had moved into the house next door to mine with his two sisters – both ten and eleven years older than us, and his parents, who were mentals of the highest degree.

                I was allowed to say that. I knew them.

                He had shoved me into the mud the first time he met me, then I soaked him with custard at his seventh birthday. Jason’s mother, Helen, had decided we were ‘supposed to be’... and I took it to heart. He was both my first and fourth crush, and one I doubt I’ll ever get over, but, strictly platonic, as we were destined to be, I was used to him coming into the house at all hours, getting into my bed and terrifying me in the middle of the night, and giving me lifts to school.

                He was like the best-friend’s-hot-older-brother... except I was his best friend, and I think he thought I was his little sister.

                It infuriated me when I was fifteen. I wasn’t really sure if I was over it now, but I’d settle for where I was. Nathan, of course, had been taking up my time in the past few months. He was interesting, caring and funny, and I didn’t know what to think when it came to him.

                I stopped and a sudden breeze made me squidge closer to Jason’s inert form, and his welcome warmth. He sighed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders as I curled up against him and defied everything my brain was telling me – mainly to get up and get in the shower.

                I, obviously, flatly refused. Lying in bed was far too comfortable.

                Jesus, I was screwed at uni. I was never going to get to lectures on time.

                Eventually, I relented, and forced myself to get out of bed and clamber out of the warmth and into the relative cold of the bathroom. I locked the door and climbed into the shower, turning the hot water on, then the cold, and switching them back and forth as I cleaned and washed away the grime of the night before.

                I remembered tequila shots and... Erm, maybe drinking a few too many as I shampooed my hair and sighed as I turned off the shower and tried to dry myself off as quickly as possible. I found a pair of pyjamas in the airing cupboard and tugged them on, before daring to cross the hallway back into my room and wake the beast that was Jason-mid-hangover.

“Jase?” He made a noise and shook his head.

“Turn down the curtains and shut your voice.” He groaned, “Then maybe I’ll get up.”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Jason. Get the fuck up and I’ll get you something to get rid of the headache, alright?”

“Fnuuurgh.” He grunted again, an estimation of assent, and finally rolled out of bed and stood up. “Shower?” He half-begged, and I nodded and jerked my thumb at the bathroom. He sighed and shuffled towards it, before turning back, crossing the room in three strides and hugging me tight.

“Hey!” I could barely breathe; he was squeezing me so tight. “What...what is it?”

“Happy Birthday, Katie.”

“Go shower. You stink.” I laughed and he did too, then he clutched his head and wrapped his arms around himself, ducking into the hallway and noisily crashing into the bathroom.

                I rolled my eyes and sighed. I would never get used to that boy. Not that that was a bad thing, I suppose.

                Ten minutes later, I was roused by a loud shout from the bathroom.

“Jes-Oh fuck!” I was on my feet and sprinting through the hallway before I could blink or think about it. “Oh, bloody hell!” He sounded like he was either in pain, or had just noticed a tattoo that neither of us remembered him getting. I was hoping for the former, because I didn’t want to have to explain the latter to anyone.

“Jason?!” I knocked on the door, “Jase, are you alright?” Slowly, the door opened, and I was surprised not to be met with a burst of steam. It didn’t really register much, though as I looked at him, with a towel around his waist and a serious bite mark on his neck, I found it nearly laughable-wait.

                Bite mark? What?

“Er... Uh, Jase... what the hell is...” I lost the words as I gestured at the bright red mark that was currently residing on his collarbone. “That looks fucking... Ow!” I managed to bluster after a couple of seconds, and he stared back at me, one eyebrow raised and one half of his lips turned up in a smile.

“You bite.”

“Sorry?” I raised an eyebrow and looked at him again. His lips were curved into a full smile now, at my total confusion, “I bite?”

“You bite. Like actual, full-force, vampiric biting.” He smirked again when I went bright pink and flushed. So Embarrassing. “I’m gonna need a jumper or a shirt or something tonight.” He laughed, loud and long, and shook his head.

“I-I-I’m so sorry!” I managed to get out as he laughed and ran his hand through his hair, “I... I mean, obviously, I didn’t know what I was doing-” He grinned again and wrapped his hand around my shoulder, smiling lightly as we made our way back to my room.

                I sat down on my bed and watched him as he went to the third drawer down in my dresser – where I kept clothes he’d come over in and left here. That was probably enough to get me arrested. Within about two minutes, he had a full outfit, and made me turn around as he got dressed, then, as he threw himself down on my bed, he looked over at me and practically yanked me back down so I was lying next to him.

“Katie?” I looked over at him and he grinned at me, “I really, really don’t mind.”


“The biting, you dozy, dozy thing...” He laughed and patted the top of my head lightly. “Though you can explain it to everyone.”

                I hate him. IhatehimIhatehimIhatehim.

                No, My head said, when I closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip, blindly smacking his shoulder, No, you really, really don’t.

The End

65 comments about this story Feed