[A/N] Thank you IKindaDigCrazyGuys, EnvisionVerse, euginevereh, RKO-flavored-Skittles, Bluestar711, waldron82, Arazei, MelancholicBaby, BBreakdown, takers dark lover, Averayy4life and guests for reviewing the previous chapter.
Was passion in Brock's eyes directed at Randy? : Sadly, no. It was for the girl. Everyone can't fall in love with Randy, now can they?
Dedication: waldron82 (For her perfect review! Y'all should check out her Coming To Terms, more Shandy plus Centon in it!)
Song of the Chapter: We Are-Hollywood Undead
(11)
It was close to midnight, but still, Stephen hasn't come home. I vaguely remember that he left before the clock hit ten in the morning but since then,there has been no phone call made, no Stephen. I blinked to realize I have wandered into his bedroom. The sight of Stephen's large, soft, comfy bed made my eyes droop close but I blinked again, to snap out of the sleepiness that was trying to invade my whole body. But I couldn't help myself, as my feet feet carried themselves towards the bed.
I sat down in the plush mattress, running my palm over the velvety material of silk sheets and my fingers curling a handful of the fabric. Screwing my eyes shut as memories flooded into my brain, I leaned back, resting my back against the headboard and drawing my legs up the bed, folding them sideways. My eyes ran around the room, taking in the black and red fabrics and dark maroon mahogany furniture, adding a beautiful contrast to the room. Stephen's room was as close to a hotel suite.
Tilting my head to the side and resting it against the wooden board that was behind me. The only thing that was running through my mind was the face of that girl I caught a glance in Brock's phone. It was obvious that Brock loves her, though he or no one else talks about her. I made a mental note to myself to remember to ask about her from John or Evan, since there might be a chance that they may know about it.
But... Why was I worrying about what happened to them? It wasn't like I was going to stay here forever.
My eyes lids opened partially, as a set of knuckles brushed against my cheek. Seeing Stephen's retreating back, I yawned, stretching my legs out and rubbing my eyes. I heard him chuckle and mumbling something about me being a kitten.
Hmph.
These people has to stop calling me a kitten.
I realized that I had fallen asleep some time ago and now it was almost half past one in the morning. Did Stephen arrive just now? Noticing that he was in his casual clothes, a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, I frowned. He was sitting at his work table, a pile of files placed on the side of the table. He was searching through one file, wearing a pair of glasses. I didn't know that he wore glasses. Sauntering over to him, I peeked over his shoulder. Scrunching up my nose at the things that I didn't quite understand, I huffed.
And suddenly I was jerked forward, the next second finding myself sitting on Stephen's lap. I was glad that the room was dimly lit, or else he would've seen how furiously I blushed. Alright, I admit, I'm clumsy as hell. But that didn't mean-
"Stephen!" I exclaimed, startled. I buried my face against his neck, inhaling deeply. Then I pulled back, my wide eyes scanning his face. "You didn't drink!"
"Of course not," he mumbled, bumping his nose against mine. "I promised you I wouldn't," he sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. My fingers trailed his jaw, still amazed that Stephen would really keep a promise like that. But there was something wrong. Something bad, that he was not telling me. I cupped his face and tilted his head down, making him open his eyes. They held a jaded green, their usual spark lost. There was definitely something wrong with him.
"Stephen..." I called, my voice barely a whisper as I watched his eyes drift off again. Taking off his glasses I placed them on the table, turning my attention back to him again. Heat was radiating off his body, and he felt like a human heater against my skin. Was he sick? "You are hot..."
"Don't I know that?" He teased, attempting a joke to which I glared. Then he cleared his throat, wincing as he did so. "Damn," he said in a hoarse voice, "I don't feel good." My eyes slid down to his chest, stopping at his pecs. They didn't pop like they did whenever I touched him. Yup. He was sick.
"Let's get you to the bed," I mumbled, trying to stand up to help him walk. I was yanked down onto him again, and a grunt reached my ears. "Stephen, come on," I said, as he buried his face against my neck and shaking his head, refusing to let go. I rubbed his scalp soothingly, running my fingers through his hair.
"I need to finish this work," his voice was barely audible. "Have to send them tomorrow."
"You can do them later," I insisted, my brows furrowing in concern when his breaths started to come out in shallow exhales. What was that party about again? It sure didn't seem like a business one. "All you need now is rest."
"Not even my mom says that, Randy," his lips curled, something like a faint, genuine smile spreading across his face. I coked my head to the side, my eyes roaming over his face. Pale, and I meant paler than he normally was, yet handsome nonetheless. Dark bags has started to color under his eyes, his burning hotter than ever. Slowly, I leaned close.
A look of confusion crossed his face, and a moment later his eyes dropped to my mouth. However, my sight was kept firmly locked on his plump, pink lips, the near vision of them making my head spin. And I didn't want to admit that I could be categorized as one of his victims. He parted his lips just as mine pressed against his, letting my upper lip slide between his pair.
He gave a soft sigh, closing his eyes and applying pressure. My hands went to his throat, resting palms on either side of his neck and pulling him closer to me. Just like hours ago before he left, the space between us vanished. There were only two bodies pressed flush against each other,their lips molding into something beautiful, producing a kiss.
Passion that flowed out of the simple action became practically unbearable. Pulling away to take a breath, I panted. He always managed to leave me breathless. One day, I wouldn't have air to breathe around him. I allowed my tongue to trace the entrance of Stephen's bottom lip, hearing him sweetly giving approval and accepting my tongue. His lips closed around my wriggling flesh, making me feel how overwhelming his touch can be. I waited until he freed me, before opening my eyes.
My vision was slightly blurred, not to mention that I was burning inside and I felt warmer than ever, in a different case than Stephen's at the moment. I felt his straining arousal beckoning me feverishly with need, but I had to hold myself back, like I always did around him. Because I had this fear, this fear which uses to engulf me whenever I'm near him, putting invisible restraints and yanking me back before I physically and mentally lose myself to Stephen. Wincing, I rested my forehead against Stephen.
Neither of us acknowledged the way my lips seek his touch as we gave an end to our kiss, though he and I both noticed it. And I prayed, mentally kneeling and close to break down, that he wouldn't ever try to talk about it. And then my hopes were crushed,like someone stepped on a pile of freshly blossomed roses.
"You want me," he breathed, catching my earlobe between his teeth and one hand sneaking up on my groin are. Letting out a shaky breath I grabbed his hand, before he actually realized that I was craving him.
"Don't," I breathed back, my palms feeling all over his upper body. How did he always ended up arousing me like the fire flames in the depth of hell? "You need rest."
"That's not the real reaso-"
"Baby, please," I pleaded, not even realizing what I had called him by.
Deafening silence filled the atmosphere, thick tension hanging in the air above us. "What are you doing to me?" He asked, stealing a kiss from me again.
I should be the one asking that from him. I could feel the restraints pulling me back, away from him. "We'll talk later. I want you to sleep now."
After much talk of pursuation, he seemed to comply with my wants. I stood up, offering him my hand and helping him get up from the bed. He swayed lightly and then leaned against me. I could feel him holding his weight back from me, as if he thought it would crush me. Sighing, I lead him to the bed gestured for him to sit down. He did, groaning as he let his body fall to the bed. I lifted his legs up and placed them in the bed, going over to the door.
"Where are you going?" I heard him ask weakly. I paused, my hand touching the door knob.
"To the kitchen," I said, frowning when he propped himself up on his elbows. "You need some food in your stomach before you go to sleep."
"But I don't want to eat," he whined, twisting his face to a cute grimace. My lips twitched to curve into a smile, as I watched him groan softly and lay back down in the bed.
"You should," I said in an accusable voice, stern and loud. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."
"Randy," his suddenly panicked voice caught my attention, and I hurried to him before he accidentally fell out of the bed. "Stay here," his eyes were wide, gripping my hands tightly. "Don't go out there. I don't need anything. Please just stay he-"
"Hush now," I said, my heart racing in my chest as I remembered the last time he had acted like this. I could still feel the other one's fingers squeezing down my throat, blocking out my windpipe. I closed my ers, nuzzling my face against his fiery hair. Inhaling the scent of his vanilla shampoo, I let both him and myself calm down. It was like we were living in a horror movie. Everything we seemed to do or think felt like being watched over by someone, unfortunately, that we perfectly well knew. "I won't take that long. I'll be back before you know it."
"Don't go," his hold on me tightened. "Please." Stephen Farrelly never begged.
"I'll be careful, I promise," I vowed, petting a kiss on his head. After a dreadful moment, he slowly gave a stiff nod.
"If you're not here by fifteen minutes, I'm coming down," even though he was sick and looked like weak, he had one of the strongest voices I've ever heard in my life. He basically growled out those words. Giving him an assuring pat, I quickly walked out of the room, before he changed his mind.
Stopping at my room for a few minutes till I changed into a comfortable pair of loose boxer shorts and a long t-shirt, I hastened down the staircase, my feet padding on the floor creating a soft thudding sound. The hanging chandelier was burning candles instead of bulbs at night, giving the whole area ghostly look. Ignoring the chills that threatened to run down my spine, I made my way to the kitchen. Soft clinks reached my ears and I stopped dead in my tracks, wondering who'd be awake at this time of the night.
Except me. And Stephen.
I tip toed to the open entrance of the kitchen, poking my head out. A small frame was working in the kitchen, a plain white t-shirt and a pair of childish pajama bottoms cladding the figure. Grinning wildly, I walked on my toes to him, raising my hands and slowly wriggling my fingers at his sides.
"FUCKIN-" He started, and I clasped a hand over his mouth. He was louder than a freaking container horn.
"Jeez, no need to scream," I let what I said sink into his mind. When he stopped struggling, I allowed him to move away. I couldn't help the shit eating grin I had in my face. "It wasn't like I was gonna murder you."
"Well you definitely acted like it," Evan grumbled, looking me up and down. "What are you doing here at this time of night anyway?"
"Well, I can ask you the same, bunny," I teased, flicking his ear. Then, remembering I had only ten more minutes, I made a serious face. "Evan, are you gonna go to sleep now?"
"Why?" his voice was wary, as he watched I place my butt on the kitchen counter.
"I, uh... I was gonna make some noodle soup for Stephen," I murmured, scratching the back of my head as he gave me a knowing look.
"Playing the 'wife' role I see," he grinned, earning a glare from me. "If you want I'll make the soup and bring it to you. By the way I would have to make a chicken soup. He was never a fan of noodles."
"Really?" I asked, a tightening feeling in my chest nagging me to believe that I was jealous of Evan. I didn't know that much about Stephen. "But... Aren't you going to sleep?"
"Insomnia is taking its toll. I can't sleep," he sighed, running around the kitchen taking things off of shelves. "I was gonna make some tea for me. You want some?"
I made a face. I was not a big fan of tea. Gah. "No, thanks. Weren't you suppose to take two days off? What are you doing here?"
"Apparently, my family has decided that they were leaving to England for a month. They haven't informed me because I didn't tell them that I was coming over. My parents has birthdays on the same day, which will be today. So I wanted to give them a surprise. Sadly, though."
"Oh," was all I could say. Another tired yawn escaped my lips, as I leaned back against the tiled wall.
"You know..." Evan paused for a second, one of his hands holding a carrot and the other holding a knife. "You look like shit."
"You're not the only one to say that," I grimaced, adjusting my back. "I only have a few minutes more, Evvy. I have to go back to him."
"He put you in a time limit?" He asked, raising one of his eyebrows at me.
"I don't really need to say the answer for that now, do I?"
Evan chuckled, shaking his head and going back to his work. "You can go. I'll bring the soup when its ready. Just try to keep him awake until he drinks this. I'll leave a message to Mr. Michaels."I could seriously hug the life out of Evan.
"Thank you," I squeezed his shoulder once, before leaving the kitchen. I was so tired, although I did nothing today, I could barely keep my eyes open. I just hoped that I wouldn't fall asleep before Stephen. Halting at the base of the staircase I took a hold of the wooden railing, one of my hands rubbing my temples. A slight headache was pounding in my head, making it impossible for me to look straight. I waited until the headache subsided a bit, before moving again. This is what happens when you don't sleep for more than twenty-four hours.
That's when I felt someone staring at me. My whole body paralyzed, the intensity of the stare locking me on my spot on the stairs. My heart boomed so loud in my chest, that it was like the organ has jumped into my ears. I gulped, feeling daggers piercing through my back. Maybe it was Evan, trying to scare me out as revenge for what I did to him moments ago.
But hell, was he good at it.
"Evan... Evvy, it's not funny..."
I slightly turned to my side, my eyes wildly scanning through the living room, over the opposite staircase, over the kitchen, and the clearing that lead to the front door. There was no one in the sight. But I still felt those heated eyes on me, like it was trying to melt a glacier. My skin crawled, as a gush of cold wind brushed past my body. Without a second glance, I raced the rest of the way to Stephen's room. I panted hard, collecting myself before entering his room. Otherwise, I'd scare Stephen for no reason at all.
I quietly slipped into the room, remembering to shut the door as quiet as I can.
"Are you angry or something?" I froze.
"What?"
"You slammed the door shut..." Stephen whined, peeking at me with a single opened eye. "And you're screaming." Almost immediately, my mood was lightened.
"That's your head messing with you," I said, chuckling as he hugged the large pillow to himself, making a face and grunting.
"Now what?"
He glanced at me, and then at the pillow, and then at me again. He nodded me to come closer, as he worked on making something like a pillow seat against the headboard. I crossed my arms and watched him do whatever it is he was doing, as it didn't seem like he wanted my help doing it.
"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to the head of the bed, where he had made the seat. Obeying, I sat down. He grabbed my hips, pulling me down the bed until I was half lying and half sitting against the headboard, with a big, soft pillow to make myself comfortable. Then he spread my legs, which I was unwilling at first but did anyway, as what could a sick Stephen do to me anyway?
Slithering between my legs, he rested his body on top of me, his head on my chest and his arms snaking around my waist and locking. "Comfy," he mumbled, nuzzling his face against my chest. So... I was more comfortable than a pillow?Shaking my head, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer and massaging his scalp through his hair. He hummed happily, his eyes closing down.
"Don't fall asleep," I warned, glancing at his peaceful face.
"How can I, when your baby is poking the life out of me," I blushed furiously, attempting to close my legs but then I realized, if I did that I would be locking them around his thighs. There was no way out of this hell. The clock on his night stand passed as we laid there. Me rubbing his head while he kept humming a tune I didn't quite recognize. The time seem to pass, and I could feel that it was getting warmer, because of Stephen. He has to have a cold shower tomorrow, no shit ice packs on his head, before he catch up a virus.
For a fact I knew Stephen wouldn't like it at all. Shrugging to myself, I asked the person to enter, knowing that it was Evan as a fading sound of knock was heard. For the second time of the night I found myself thanking the dim light of the room, as I was the next thing closest to a ripened tomato. If I knew Evan better, he'd be giving me hell tomorrow, teamed up with John. Oh, no. John was not a saint at all.
It took me nearly an hour to make Stephen drink all of the soup. He finally gave up when I grumbled about not having sleep last night because of him and having to spend tonight awake as well. He pouted, causing my anger to disappear but I kept my face stern, not letting him know that he had affected my feelings. Ten minutes later he was sound asleep, soft snores emanating from him.
I already felt like today was going to be a long day, but somehow, something deep inside me didn't settle down. A long sigh dragged out of my lips, as I rested my head back on the pillow. Closing my eyes, I finally permitted myself to fall asleep, feeling that chilling feeling crawl into my senses again.
