Okay, I was inspired to write this by one of my friend Brittany's stories:) I kinda of put this together while thinking of Steven and Caroline from "My Generation". Sadly it was canceled :( The song is called "Better Love", and it's by Eisley. How can I unwind you,
slipping in my own blood,
When I can't unwind myself?
And oh, God, why can't I stop
licking on my own wounds
when I've found my place with you?
Make me a better love.
Make me better, love.
Make me a better love.
Because I've finally found out
you're on my side
with a bullet for the bad guys.
Hallelujah.
Oh, I've finally found out
you're on my side,
and if you're my guide, I'm your guide.
Hallelujah.
Fear finds weakness in numbers.
That's why we stick close.
We're gallant, we're strong, we're safe.
You chose me, you're the first born, and an angel.
You're so brave.
Now I can brave myself.
Make me a better love.
Make me better, love.
Make me a better love.
'Cause I've finally found out
you're on my side
with a bullet for the bad guys.
Hallelujah.
Oh, I've finally found out
you're on my side,
and if you're my guide, I'm your guide.
Hallelujah.
Make me a better love.
Make me better, love.
Make me a better love.
Make me a better love.
Make me better, love.
Make me a better love.
'Cause I've finally found out
you're on my side
with a bullet for the bad guys.
Now hallelujah.
Oh, and I've finally found out
you're on my side,
and if you're my guide, I'm your guide.
Now hallelujah.
It usually started on impulse, though alcohol was commonly a factor in its start... From there, everything happened quickly. The snap decision. The quick escape from the rest of their peers; the chaperones; few staff members. King and Queen had just been announced, so most of the eyes in the room were settled upon the "lucky couple." The opening music sounded, and few groans were heard from around the room. The ridiculously annoying pop song would be stuck in all of the attendees' heads for several days...
Weaving through the dance floor was a little hard because everyone had already looked at the two people in the center of the room for long enough, and now seemed to be looking any place else but at them...
The two of you slip out of the large room, into the hallway; away from civilization. A quick walk to the lobby. Was that really all it would take to change anything that had happened these past four years at that damn place? You had already been known as the nerd who was socially-awkward. That first memory of you always stuck with them, and nothing you did could change it. Not that you ever did anything that could change it, anyway...
Your feet were hurting from standing the entire night. Thankfully you had no one to dance with, or your feet would have blisters. But standing by the food table was just as miserable... You take your shoes off as he hurriedly slips out his credit card and asks for a room for the night. It takes a moment for the man to process the sight in front of him: two unlikely people wanting to get a room in a hotel. A nice hotel. This hotel. It was clear that this was a one-time-only sort of thing, so why would he waste that type of money on someone like you?
Before you could further question yourself, he tucks the spare room key into the pocket of his suit, the other one tightly grasped in his hand. You look back at the man at the check-in desk. The look on his face as he knows what will occur within the next twenty minutes or so makes your stomach flip. You consider turning back, walking to the entrance, and getting a cab home. But it's too late now; he is already towing you off towards the elevators. He presses the arrow pointing up, and the two of you wait for the elevator to come. As the doors open, you hear him sigh in exasperation that no one is in the elevator. You step in and turn around, your back facing the wall of the elevator; its glass is pressed against your back and its cold texture sends chills up and down your spine.
You would expect for him to just grab you and start making out with you, but you could see that he was a little nervous as well... Neither of you had imagined this happening, so it was just as much of a shock to him as it was to you. When the elevator reached the seventh floor, the sound almost made you jump, and you could see that he was also a little antsy. He glanced at you, gesturing for you to step out of the elevator.
You decide that it's time to be brave, so you reach for his hand and pull him down the hall, while you look out for room number 713. You lean up a little and press your lips forcefully against his. He seems taken aback, but responds with just as much enthusiasm. When you find the room, you take the key card from his hand, quickly shoving it into the slot. You snatch it back before the card is even read, which signals a red light to blink. You sigh, frustrated, and he moves his lips to your neck as you re-insert the card. As soon as a green light appears, you open the door and toss the key onto the table by the door. You continue to kiss until you have reached the bedroom. The already uncomfortable situation becomes awkward and neither of you know what should happen next, so he steps away from you and sits at the bottom of the bed. He takes his shoes and socks off very slowly, along with his tie and his jacket. He assumes that you might need a moment to freshen up, and you realize this when he doesn't speak to you for a little over a minute. You walk into the bathroom, and take the opportunity to look at yourself. Staring back is the same person who had arrived at prom a few hours ago, but somehow that person is also completely different. Opposite, almost. Your hair is still in curls and your make-up remains the same, except for a few smudges around your lips. You could use a quick refresher, so you turn the fancy knobs of the sink, waiting for cool water to pour out. As your hands fill up you breathe deeply, before splashing the water onto your face. After you shut the water off, you consider what it would look like on the other side of the door... Would he already be lying down, stretched out for you? Would he have taken his shirt or pants off? Would he even still be out there?
You take another deep breath, and decide to be mature about this. You untie the back of your dress, and slip out of it. It falls to the ground, and you pick it up and place it on the small counter. You open the door, surprised to see him in the same place he'd been when you left the room.
He stares straight ahead, barely acknowledging that you have come into the room. He doesn't turn, even when you sit down on the bed. He seems as if he is waiting for you to make a move, so you press yourself against him. When he realizes that you are no longer in your dress, he becomes rigid. He clears his throat, the first noise in a while. He begins to turn, but you get up and walk around to stand in front of him. You unbutton his shirt, and it drops to the floor as you make your way to the button of his pants. He seems shocked that you were controlling the entire thing. He quickly glances over your body, then back up at your face. You both finally realize that maybe this isn't as bad as it seems.
Things get serious as both of you start kissing again, and he asks you the entire time if you want to continue. Your answer is always the same : yes, of course. Although you realize that a lot of guys only ask to make girls feel guilty into saying yes, you know that he means it; it's clear on his face.
Everything starts happening slowly, yet it feels as if it has all flashed before your eyes. Before you know it, he is asking if he should drive you home. You whisper, "No", and then pull the blanket over the both of you, snuggling up next to him. He tries to persuade you to at least call your parents, but you cut him off by placing your lips on his yet again.
When you wake up, he is still asleep. All of the memories flood back, and they bring a smile to your face. But you have to realize that you guys weren't protected, and that staying here any longer would be bad for the both of you. You quietly get out of bed and retrieve your clothes, before you get dressed. With your heels in one hand and your purse in the other, you slip out of the room. You consider writing him a letter, but that would be too messy. You wouldn't see him again, so why make this any harder than it has to be, right?