Who doesn't love one-shots?

Hollywood by Michael Bublé


"How can you not like Michael Bublé?" Clare scoffed as she switched the radio station back. Eli rolled his eyes.

"I have heard this song three times since we have been in the car." He retorted, about to switch the radio again. Clare slapped his hand away.

"I think you should let your girlfriend be able to listen to her favorite song by her favorite singer."

Eli raised an eyebrow. "Is he your newest celebrity crush?" He asked with a teasing gesture behind his curiosity.

Clare crossed her arms, a smiling threatening her face. "Are you jealous?"

Eli frowned automatically, looking for the right words. Clare laughed.

"Told you." She stated, smiling while looking out the window.

"I'm not jealous." Eli responded with a childish tone; he had never been jealous in his life.

She rolled her eyes. "I know the truth, Elijah; you are jealous that I like someone else."

"I don't mean to be mean Clare, but you'll never meet Michael Bublé. You're stuck with me." Eli said proudly, stopping at a red light.

Clare brought her hand up to Eli's cheek, caressing it ever so slightly.

"Not even in concert?" She asked as seductively as she could, and she could've sworn that she saw Eli's barrier slightly breaking down.

"Nope." Eli said, gripping the steering wheel tight. Clare smiled and started to lean closer to him.

"Not even in concert?" Clare repeated but her tone was so unhappy, so sad, that Eli turned to look at her. Clare was a better actress that he would've thought as he was about to give in.

But then the song passed through his mind again. "No," he squeaked, speeding off once the light turned green.

By this time Clare had started to kiss his neck. She knew all of his weak spots, which was very bad. Clare could easily hypnotize Eli with the snap of her fingers if she wanted to.

"What could I do to make you change your mind?" She murmured in his ear before breathing down his neck. Eli swallowed hard.

"I think you know." He smirked, and Clare felt somewhat hurt. He wasn't going to get away like that.

She brought a hand down to his thigh, something that she had never done before. Eli's eyes widened, sending Clare into a mischievous grin.

"Uh," was all that he managed to get out. Saint Clare Edwards was actually making a move on goth-boy Eli Goldsworthy. Was the world coming to an end?

"People say that I'm Saint Clare," she murmured, pressing her hand lightly against his jeans. Eli's breathing wavered. "But I don't think I am."

Eli was ready to buy her concert tickets to Michael Bublé if she surprised him like this often, but couldn't get the words out to say it.

"Please?" She asked, her voice sounding extremely desperate. All he could do was nod.

Clare laughed lightly, leaning back into the passenger's seat of Morty, singing to the song.

"Put it in your head, baby chivalry is dead; you can find it in yourself." She sang, and Eli looked at her in confusion as she sang her own words.